11 A Resigned Heart at Dinner
Elara took a deep breath before stepping back into the dining room. The conversation she’d overheard earlier between Damien and Vivienne’s father kept replaying in her
mind.
*Please take good care of her,” Alistair had said about Vivienne.
The stark contrast between his paternal concern for her half–sister and his complete disregard for her own well–being over the years stung. She had never once heard those words directed toward her.
Eleanor beamed when Elara returned to the table. “There you are, dear. Come sit.
We’re discussing the charity gala next month.”
Victoria Sterling, Damien’s mother, glanced up with cold eyes. “Will you be attending, Elara? I assumed you’d be too busy with your… new job.”
The emphasis on “new job” dripped with disdain. Victoria had never approved of Elara working outside the family business, viewing it as somehow beneath the Thorne family image.
“I haven’t decided yet,” Elara replied calmly, reclaiming her seat.
Sabrina, Damien’s sister, smirked. “Father would be disappointed to see his precious company losing its most dedicated secretary.”
Elara maintained her composure. “I’ve already submitted my resignation from Thorne Industries, actually. My replacement starts training next week.”
A hush fell over the table. Eleanor’s fork paused halfway to her mouth. Victoria’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.
“You resigned?” Eleanor asked, concern evident in her voice. “But you’ve worked there for years.”
“Seven years,” Elara confirmed. “It was time for a change.”
Damien, who had just returned to the dining room, frowned. “You never mentioned
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resigning.”
“I left the letter on your desk yesterday,” Elara replied without looking at him. “Along with the quarterly reports you requested.”
Before Damien could respond, the door swung open as Ethan Thorne, his younger brother, sauntered in with his usual carefree air.
“Sorry I’m late. Traffic was murder.” He kissed Eleanor’s cheek and nodded to Damien. When he spotted Elara, his face lit up. “Elara! Haven’t seen you in ages. You look… different.”
“She’s lost too much weight,” Eleanor commented, eyeing Elara with grandmotherly concern. “You’re practically disappearing, dear.”
“I’ve been busy,” Elara said softly.
Cora tugged at Elara’s sleeve. “Mommy, look what Great–Grandma got me!” She proudly displayed a delicate bracelet with small diamond charms.
“It’s beautiful, sweetheart.” Elara smiled genuinely for the first time that evening.
“I got matching ones for you and Aunt Vivi too!” Cora continued excitedly. “Great–Grandma says it’s a symbol of family.”
Elara’s smile froze. She caught Damien watching her, his expression unreadable.
“How thoughtful,” she managed to say, though the words felt like glass in her throat.
Eleanor, oblivious to the tension, patted Cora’s hand. “Family is everything, little one.
Remember that.”
The staff began serving the main course, momentarily distracting everyone. Elara used the opportunity to compose herself, focusing on cutting her food into small, precise pieces she had no appetite for.
“So, what’s this new job that’s stolen you away from Thorne Industries?” Sabrina asked, her tone deceptively light.
“I’m returning to AI development,” Elara replied. “My original field before I joined
Thorne Industries.”
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“With that… friend of yours? The eccentric one?” Victoria asked with thinly veiled disapproval.
“Julian Croft,” Elara supplied. “Yes, I’m rejoining YodaVision as Chief Innovation Officer.”
Ethan whistled. “Impressive title.”
“Julian always did have a soft spot for you,” Victoria commented, the implication clear
in her tone.
“He values my expertise,” Elara replied evenly. “We founded the company together in college.”
“And you abandoned it for marriage,” Sabrina added with false sympathy.
Elara met her gaze directly. “A decision I’m now rectifying.”
The loaded statement hung in the air. Eleanor glanced between Elara and Damien with sudden concern, while Victoria’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“What exactly does that mean?” Victoria demanded.
Before Elara could respond, Damien cut in smoothly. “It means Elara is exploring her professional options. Something we should all support.”
His unexpected defense surprised Elara, though she knew it was merely to avoid a scene at his grandmother’s dinner table.
“Mommy’s really smart,” Cora declared proudly. “That’s what Daddy says.”
This simple statement caught Elara off guard. She glanced at Damien, who was suddenly very interested in his wine glass.
“Your father is right,” Eleanor agreed warmly. “Your mother has always been brilliant.”
The conversation shifted to safer topics as the meal progressed. Elara participated minimally, offering polite smiles and brief responses when required. Inside, she felt hollowed out, going through the motions of a family dinner that no longer held meaning for her.
When dessert was served, Eleanor announced, “We should rearrange the seating. Damien, why don’t you sit beside Elara? You’ve barely spoken to your wife all evening.”
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The familiar matchmaking attempt–one that would have once given Elara hope–now felt like a particularly cruel joke.
“It’s alright, Grandma,” Elara said with a gentle smile, though her eyes remained distant. “This seating arrangement is fine.”
Eleanor looked surprised by the refusal. In the past, Elara would have eagerly accepted any opportunity to be closer to Damien. Her quiet resistance signaled a shift that wasn’t lost on the sharp–eyed matriarch. .
“Nonsense,” Eleanor insisted. “Damien, move next to your wife.”
With obvious reluctance, Damien complied, taking the seat beside Elara. She could feel the heat from his body, smell his familiar cologne. Once, his proximity would have made her heart race with hope. Now, it simply reminded her of everything she was losing—had already lost.
“When will Aunt Vivi be back from her trip?” Cora asked Damien, oblivious to the tension between her parents.
“Sunday evening,” Damien replied. “After her race.”
“Can I stay up late to watch it on TV?” Cora pleaded.
“We’ll see,” Damien said, his expression softening as it always did with their daughter.
Elara felt a familiar pang watching them. Damien had never looked at her with such genuine affection.
“Perhaps Elara could watch it with you,” Eleanor suggested, still trying to create family moments where none existed.
“Mommy doesn’t like racing,” Cora stated matter–of–factly. “She gets that sad face
when Aunt Vivi races.”
The innocent observation silenced the table again. Elara felt Damien shift
uncomfortably beside her.
“I’m just nervous about the dangers,” Elara said carefully, protecting her daughter from the complicated truth. “But if you want to watch, of course you can.”
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“With Daddy,” Cora clarified, as if correcting a misunderstanding.
“Yes,” Elara agreed softly. “With Daddy.”
*52
The remainder of dinner passed in a blur of forced conversation and awkward silences. When Eleanor finally suggested they move to the drawing room for coffee, Elara seized the opportunity.
“I should actually be going” she said, rising from her seat. “Early meeting tomorrow.”
“But you just got here,” Eleanor protested. “Surely you can stay a bit longer.”
“I’m afraid not.” Elara bent to kiss Cora’s cheek. “Be good for Daddy, sweetheart. I’ll see you this weekend.”
Cora hugged her briefly before turning her attention back to her dessert. The casual dismissal hurt, but Elara maintained her composure.
“I’ll walk you out,” Damien offered unexpectedly.
In the grand foyer, away from prying eyes, Elara finally allowed herself to exhale.
“You didn’t have to resign,” Damien said quietly.
“Yes, I did.” Elara met his gaze steadily. “Being your secretary while you divorce me
would be… untenable.”
“You were never just my secretary.”
“No,” she agreed. “I was your wife too. But soon I’ll be neither.”
Something flickered across Damien’s face–discomfort, perhaps, or maybe just impatience to end the conversation.
“About what Cora said, regarding Vivienne’s racing-”
Elara held up a hand to stop him. “It doesn’t matter, Damien. Our daughter is observant, that’s all.”
“She shouldn’t be keeping secrets from you.”
“There will be many things about our lives that Cora won’t understand,” Elara said
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wearily. “We’ll both need to shield her from certain truths while she’s young.”
Damien studied her face. “You’ve changed.”
“I’ve accepted reality.” Elara reached for the door handle. “Goodnight, Damien.”
As she walked to her car, Elara felt the weight of the evening pressing down on her shoulders. Each step took her further from the family dream she’d cherished for seven years–the dream that Damien had never shared.
For the first time, she didn’t look back to see if he was watching her leave.
