Amelia Blackwood stood by the window, peeking out to see who was arriving. She heaved a sigh as she caught sight of Elijah. It still felt unreal that she was living with him. Even more unbearable was the fact that she was sinfully in love with him. It had only been a year since she lost her husband.
She remembered how Nathan used to speak about the man stepping out of the car with so much disgust. But she'd never been bold enough to ask why they weren't on talking terms. And even if she had, Nathan wouldn't have answered. He would have shut her down the way he always did.
Nathan had been cheating on her before he died. She had complained several times, but he always dismissed her with the same cruel line, "I'm a man and very wealthy, so I can get any woman I want, as long as you're taken care of and my daughter is well-fed." She hated how that sounded every time he spewed such nonsense. She couldn't complain to his parents either. They never liked her. Both her father-in-law and mother-in-law made that clear. And she had no one else to talk to—no family, no friends. She was an orphan and alone in the world.
The only friend she ever had was Clara, but Nathan had cut her off from seeing or speaking to her. Or so he thought. She had secretly stayed in touch. She remembered marrying Nathan only because she needed an escape from the extreme poverty she'd known all her life. She had worked non-stop after leaving the orphanage, moving from street to street until her guardian angel, Clara Hawthorne, saved her. Clara had taken her in, and they started living together. She even helped her get a job as a bartender.
Two years into the job, she got entangled with Nathan. What started as a fairy tale ended in tragedy. Deep down, she was relieved Nathan was gone. Not only had he been a chronic cheat, but he was also abusive and violently aggressive when drunk. She had suffered countless miscarriages before finally giving birth to her precious daughter, all due to his abuse.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Aurora coming down the stairs, shouting with excitement.
"Uncle Eli, welcome! How was work? Did you get the ice cream you promised?"
"Yes, I did. And work was fine," he replied while cupping her cute chubby cheeks. He handed her a designer-wrapped bag and headed upstairs without sparing Amelia a glance.
Last night had been chaotic, and God, she didn't want to remember what happened.
Amelia checked the time—it was past six. Elijah was back earlier than usual. And as always, he was cold. Not surprising.
"Come, Aurora, let's go get you ready. You'll be spending the weekend at Aunt Clara's," Amelia said, picking up her daughter and heading upstairs.
"Look, Mummy, Uncle Eli bought me ice cream and candy!" Aurora squealed while licking her ice cream.
"Did you tell him thank you?" Amelia asked.
"Yes, I did," Aurora responded, grinning.
"That's my baby," Amelia said, smiling and playfully touching her cheeks.
Clara was sitting on Aurora's bed, waiting for Amelia to finish dressing her so she could take her home. After Nathan's death, Amelia had been kicked out of the Blackwood mansion by Celeste Blackwood, Nathan's mother. With nowhere else to go, she ran back to Clara, crying and pleading for a place to stay. She had no savings, as Nathan had stopped her from working. She'd been a stay-at-home wife and mom with no independence.
Clara welcomed her with open arms and took her and Aurora in. Aurora was only two at the time. Life wasn't easy until Elijah—Nathan's younger brother—stepped in, forcefully.
"So, are you seeing anyone or are you still mourning that asshole?" Clara asked, giving Amelia a side-eye.
"Jesus, Clara. That asshole was my husband and Aurora's father. Can you stop insulting the dead?" Amelia snapped.
"Umm, nope. And babe, just because he's dead doesn't mean he wasn't an asshole. Get a grip. And if you don't want to get some outside the family, his younger brother is right here," Clara said with a mischievous smirk.
Amelia's face flushed, remembering what had happened the night before.
"Oh Christ. Thank God Aurora's downstairs. You would've corrupted my little princess. Get out of my house. And please don't curse around her, you bitch," Amelia replied with a grin. They both burst out laughing as they walked out of Aurora's room.
Aurora was seated at the dining table, looking adorable in her pink shirt and black pants. She ate happily, without a care in the world. At three years old, Aurora was a chubby, bright-eyed baby with beautiful blue eyes—the only thing she inherited from her father. Everything else was a carbon copy of her mother. She had almond-shaped eyes, soft afro-textured hair styled in a ponytail, a caramel skin tone, full lips that were always pouty, and utterly adorable.
Twenty minutes later, Clara walked out with Aurora, who was waving goodbye with excitement. Amelia stood at the giant door and waved back as they got into Clara's car and drove away.
She walked back in and sat at the table to finish her food, but Elijah soon joined her. After what happened last night, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Especially knowing she had been the one to initiate everything.
"I didn't see you in the office today," Elijah said, his voice deep and smooth.
Amelia raised her head and their eyes locked. For a moment, she stopped breathing. The soft blue dining room light cast shadows over his face, blurring the edges just enough to make her chest tighten. Every time she looked at him, something between her legs screamed hallelujah.
She remembered the first time she saw him at Clara's doorstep. She had fainted, thinking it was Nathan. They looked alike, but Elijah was a definite upgrade. She was foolish to have ever compared them.
A small cough brought her out of her trance.
"If it's because of yesterday that you didn't come to the office, I'm sorry. I still expect to see you tomorrow," he said coldly and stood to leave. Before walking away, he added,
"What happened yesterday was a mistake. It shouldn't happen again. You're my brother's widow."
He walked off, leaving Amelia frozen in place, heartbroken and stunned.
When he kissed her last night in his car and touched her like a man starved, it hadn't felt like a mistake to her. Or maybe she was just blinded by the delusion of love she thought she had for him.
Amelia dropped her spoon. The food had lost all taste. Bitter. What an incredible way to ruin a good meal, she thought, swallowing the lump in her throat.