V
69 Elevator Encounters, Daughter’s Welcome
69 Elevator Encounters, Daughter’s Welcome
Julian was the first to recover from the awkward moment. “We can wait for the next one,” he said politely, stepping back to put some distance between their group and the elevator.
Damien’s gaze lingered on Elara before he nodded. “As you wish. His arm remained firmly around Vivienne’s shoulders as the elevator doors slowly closed.
Henry looked between Julian and the closed doors with mild confusion. “That was odd. We could have easily fit
Elara exhaled slowly, grateful for Julian’s quick thinking. Being trapped in that small space with Damien and Vivienne would have been unbearable.
“Sometimes it’s better not to crowd,” Julian replied casually. “Besides, I just remembered I wanted to tell you about our latest recognition algorithm improvement.”
As Julian engaged Henry and Jonathan in technical discussion, Elara composed herself. She smoothed her navy pencil skirt and adjusted her blazer, trying to ignore the tight feeling in her chest.
Within minutes, another elevator arrived. The four of them stepped in, and Jonathan pressed the lobby button.
Just as the doors began to close, Elara’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and felt a rush of warmth seeing “Coco” displayed.
“Excuse me,” she said softly before answering. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Mommy!” Cora’s excited voice came through the speaker. “When are you coming home? My ankle feels much better now!”
Elara couldn’t help but smile. “I’m just leaving work now. I’ll be home very soon.”
“Good! I want to show you my new drawing. Ms. Patricia says it’s the best one in class!”
“I can’t wait to see it,” Elara replied, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Have
you
had your snack yet?”
“Yes! Hannah made those special cookies with the chocolate pieces. I saved one for you!”
21:17 C
1/4
69 Elevator Encounters, Daughter’s Welcome.
That’s very thoughtful of you. I’ll be home in about twenty minutes, okay?”
“Okay! Love you, Mommy!”
“Love you too, Coco. See you soon.”
Elara ended the call and looked up to find Henry and Jonathan watching her with curious expressions.
“I didn’t know you had a child,” Henry remarked, sounding surprised.
Elara slipped her phone back into her purse. “Yes, my daughter Cora. She’s seven.”
“Seven? That’s a wonderful age,” Jonathan commented. “My nephew Just turned eight. What does your husband do?” he asked conversationally.
The question hung in the air for a moment. Julian shot her a quick, concerned glance.
“He’s in business,” Elara answered vaguely, grateful when the elevator doors opened to the lobby, ending the conversation.
As they walked across the marble floors toward the exit, Julian hung back to walk
beside her.
“I almost told them who your husband is,” he admitted quietly. “But with the divorce proceedings and Vivienne’s presence here… I thought it might create complications you don’t need right now.”
Elara nodded gratefully. “Thank you. It’s better this way.”
Julian gave her shoulder a supportive squeeze. “Don’t let today get to you. We secured the contract, and that’s what matters professionally.”
“You’re right,” Elara agreed, though her thoughts were already shifting to home and Cora’s unexpected call.
They parted ways in the parking garage, and Elara drove home with her mind
ping–ponging between thoughts of work and family.
When she arrived at the Thorne estate twenty minutes later, Cora was waiting at the door, bouncing on her heels despite her recently injured ankle.
“Mommy!” she cried, rushing forward to wrap her arms around Elara’s waist.
21:17
2/4
(09 Elevator Encounters, Daughter’s Welcome
Elara knelt down to properly embrace her daughter, breathing in the sweet scent of her strawberry shampoo. “I missed you today. How’s your ankle feeling?”
Cora pulled back, demonstrating a little twirl. “All better! The doctor said I can even go to ballet next week!”
Hannah appeared in the doorway, smiling at their reunion. “Welcome home, Mrs. Thorne. Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes.”
“Where’s Mr. Thorne?” Elara asked, trying to sound casual as she helped Cora back inside.
Hannah’s expression flickered briefly. “He called to say he’s busy with meetings and won’t be home for dinner.”
Busy. The word echoed in Elara’s mind as she remembered Damien’s arm around Vivienne in the elevator. She wondered if his “meeting” involved Vivienne’s penthouse apartment downtown.
“Come see my drawing!” Cora tugged at her hand, pulling her from those dark thoughts.
Elara followed her daughter upstairs to her bedroom, where a colorful drawing was proudly displayed on her art easel. It showed three figures–clearly meant to be Cora, Elara, and Damien–holding hands in front of what appeared to be their house.
“That’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Elara said, genuinely touched by the family portrait.
Cora beamed. “Ms. Patricia said my proportions are very good for my age.”
“She’s absolutely right,” Elara agreed, noticing how much more detailed the mother figure was compared to the father. A small observation that brought a bittersweet
smile to her face.
After admiring the artwork, they went downstairs for dinner. Hannah had prepared Cora’s favorite–chicken parmesan with roasted vegetables.
Unlike previous dinners when Cora would barely speak to her, tonight her daughter chatted animatedly about school, her friends, and the upcoming science fair.
“Will you help me with my project?” Cora asked between bites. “I want to do something with robotics. Dad said it would be too hard, but I told him you know all about computers and robots.”
21:17
3/4
60 Elevator Encounters, Daughter’s Welcome
Elara was surprised. “You told him that?”
Cora nodded enthusiastically. “I said you’re super smart and could help me build anything.”
“Of course I’ll help you, Elara promised, warmed by her daughter’s newfound confidence in her abilities.
As they finished dinner, Cora looked at her thoughtfully. “Mommy, can you give me my bath tonight? And braid my hair the special way you used to?”
The request was so unexpected that Elara felt her eyes sting with tears. For months, Cora had insisted that Hannah help her with baths and bedtime routines, claiming Elara “didn’t do it right.”
“I would love to,” Elara said, reaching across the table to squeeze her daughter’s hand.
Cora smiled–that bright, unguarded smile that had become increasingly rare. “Good. I like when you do my hair. It feels nicer.”
As they cleared their plates together, Elara found herself wondering what had prompted this change in Cora. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for this reconnection with her daughter–a bright spot in a day that had otherwise been filled with painful reminders of everything she was losing.
Comment
View All
