86 An Evening with the Matriarch
When dessert arrived, Eleanor turned her focus back to Elara. “Are you sleeping properly? You look exhausted.”
“There’s my girl!” she exclaimed, embracing Elara warmly. “Let me look at you.”
After breakfast and the school run, Elara arrived at YodaVision’s headquarters. Julian was already in their shared office, surrounded by digital diagrams.
“My grandmother arrived unexpectedly,” Damien said without preamble. “She’s asking
for
you. I told her you’re working, but you know how she is.”
“She’s lost more weight,” Damien interrupted, his eyes scanning Elara’s frame with a scrutiny that made her cheeks warm.
Eleanor nodded in agreement. “You’ve lost weight again. You really don’t know how to take care of yourself.”
Elara startled at Damien’s voice. He stood in the doorway, already dressed in a charcoal suit that highlighted his broad shoulders.
Elara squeezed his arm reassuringly. “It’s just dinner. I’ll be back tomorrow to finish
this.”
They spent hours refining the code, barely noticing as morning turned to afternoon. This was what Elara loved–being valued for her mind, her contributions recognized and appreciated. Here, she wasn’t just Damien Thorne’s wife.
“Eleanor,” Elara protested gently, “I feed myself just fine.”
“Well,” Eleanor said with a satisfied smile, “I’m glad to see you supporting her endeavors, Damien.”
“You’re up early.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Elara replied, stroking her daughter’s hair. “But you need to sleep now. School comes early.”
“I hear you’re doing remarkable things with artificial intelligence,” Eleanor said to Elara as the first course was served. “Arthur always said you had the sharpest mind of anyone at Thorne Industries.”
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“Long night,” Elara replied, pulling up her project files. “But productive. I think I’ve solved our adaptive learning algorithm issue.”
“Mom, can we have pancakes tomorrow?” Cora asked, her small face illuminated by the fairy lights strung across her bedroom ceiling.
“Fine.” Damien took his coffee and left without another word.
“I promised Cora pancakes,” she explained, avoiding his gaze.
“Will you still be here when I wake up?” There was uncertainty in Cora’s voice that tugged at Elara’s heart.
Eleanor linked her arm through Elara’s. “Now tell me everything you’ve been doing. Damien says you’re back at that tech company of yours.”
“Hello?”
Her phone rang just as they were celebrating a breakthrough. Seeing Damien’s name on the screen made her stomach tighten.
“I’m fine,” Elara assured her. “Just busy with work and-”
“Thank you,” Elara said, genuinely grateful despite her discomfort. The silence between them stretched until she cleared her throat. “I’ll take Cora to school, then head to
work.”
“Good. She’s already planned dinner for all of us.”
“Mrs. Gable announces dinner is ready,” the housekeeper announced from the doorway.
“Balance,” she repeated softly, holding his eyes. “Yes, that’s something I’m still working
on.”
“Perhaps,” Eleanor continued, setting down her dessert spoon, “what my grandson should do is ensure you’re not working yourself to death. Balance is important, dear.”
“That’s kind of him,” Elara replied, touched by the mention of Damien’s late grandfather. “Our current project could revolutionize predictive analytics in
healthcare.”
“Grandma brought me a music box from Vienna,” Cora announced, drawing attention
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to the intricate silver piece on the coffee table.
Eleanor held Elara at arm’s length, her sharp eyes assessing. Despite being in her seventies, Eleanor Thorne retained the commanding presence that had made her formidable in business circles decades ago.
Damien nodded, approaching the coffee maker. “I’ve made the call about the property. Oliver Dubois will receive an offer this afternoon.”
Elara met Damien’s gaze across the table. For once, his expression wasn’t closed off- there was something there, a question perhaps, or a realization. Whatever it was, it
made her heart beat faster.
“Yes, I promise. Now close your eyes.”
Elara glanced at him in surprise. Damien had never shown interest in her work before, let alone praised it publicly.
“She’s being modest,” Damien interjected unexpectedly. “The algorithms she’s developing could save thousands of lives.”
Dinner continued with Eleanor dominating the conversation, sharing stories from her travels and asking Cora about school. Elara observed the dynamics, noticing how Damien seemed more attentive than usual–refilling her water glass, passing dishes her way before she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” Elara remarked, grateful for the distraction.
The comment hung in the air. Elara felt herself being assessed, not just by Eleanor but by Damien as well. In their eyes, was she failing at self–care? Or was this concern genuine?
“You’re working too hard,” she declared. “Damien, don’t you feed this girl?”
Morning arrived too quickly. Elara woke before Cora’s alarm and slipped out to prepare breakfast. The kitchen was empty–no sign of Damien or the staff. She worked quietly, making pancake batter from scratch.
When Elara arrived at the villa, she found Eleanor, Damien, and Cora in the living room. Eleanor rose immediately, arms outstretched.
“Eleanor’s in town,” Elara explained, gathering her things. “I need to go play the dutiful granddaughter–in–law.”
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They moved to the dining room, where Eleanor directed the seating arrangements. “Damien, sit beside your wife. I want Cora next to me.”
As Elara explained her current projects, she noticed Damien watching her with an unreadable expression. His attention felt different somehow–less dismissive, more… present.
Elara decided to spend the night in Cora’s room rather than deal with the
complications of returning to her own apartment. Cora was thrilled, insisting they have a “sleepover” complete with whispered secrets and giggles long past bedtime.
Typically, Damien would find a reason to sit elsewhere, but tonight he took the chair beside Elara without comment. The proximity was unsettling–she could smell his cologne, feel the slight shift in the air when he moved.
Julian raised an eyebrow as she ended the call. “Duty calls?”
Julian’s eyes lit up. “Show me.”
“You look tired,” he commented as she set down her bag.
Elara sighed. Eleanor Thorne was a force of nature–loving but demanding. “I’ll wrap up here and come home.”
“Don’t let them pull you back in,” Julian warned, his concern evident. “You’ve made so much progress.”
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