Elena's POV
I stared at the empty space on the couch.
The blanket was still wrapped around me. The pillow still cradled the spot beneath my head. The television was off, but I remembered it had been on before I dozed off waiting. Waiting for a text. A knock. Anything.
But all I had was silence.I sat up slowly, the stiffness in my back reminding me I'd fallen asleep curled like a question mark.
My first instinct was to check my phone. I did immediately an there was No messages.Not even a missed call.
I scrolled through the old texts we'd exchanged few and mostly about logistics and him giving me orders but rereading them didn't help. I thought about sending something new.
"Hey… are you okay ? "I typed it.
Stared at it.Then erased it.It felt too soft. Too desperate and I didn't want to.
I tried again.
" I know you're busy. Just wanted to say thanks for Paris."Backspaced. Every word.I wasn't going to beg. I never did
I wasn't going to chase him.But my heart felt like it was chasing shadows I couldn't outrun.
I stood and padded toward the kitchen. My slippers made no sound on the floor, and the house felt heavier than usual like it was holding its breath.
I passed by the mirror in the hallway and stopped.My reflection stared back eyes tired, cheeks flushed with sleep, hair slightly tangled. I looked like I needed more sleep
This wasn't how I imagined my marriage to be but this was better than what I expected when I was marrying this cruel man named Justin
This wasn't the fairytale.This was waiting on a man who left the room without saying goodbye.
I moved away from the mirror.
When I reached the stairs, I heard faint footsteps quick, purposeful, but fading fast. I rushed down only to find the butler already standing by the door.
"Did someone just leave?" I asked, trying not to sound too eager.
The butler gave me a polite nod. "Mr. Shawn came in briefly this morning, ma'am. He said he was just here to change and pick up some documents."
I blinked. "What time?"
"About Five-thirty. You were still asleep on the couch."
"Did he… did he say anything?"
"He asked me not to wake you."That was it and that touched my heart.
I turned away before the butler could see my expression. My chest ached with something deeper than disappointment. It was like being invisible in plain sight.
I climbed back upstairs and closed the door behind me.
Inside the bedroom, the sheets were still made, untouched.
So he hadn't even slept here.
The scent of his cologne still lingered in the air though. I hated how I noticed it. Hated how much it made me want to breathe it in.
I moved to the window, pulling back the curtain. The sun was climbing, casting soft light over the neighborhood. Birds chirped outside like the world wasn't crumbling.
Like my heart wasn't unraveling slowly.
I had tried.I had smiled.I had played my part.
But he… he kept slipping away. I wanted this to work .Maybe Paris had been an illusion. A momentary spell.
Because back here, in his world of boardrooms and betrayal and business deals, I was just another pawn.
And I was tired of pretending not to notice.
Still, I couldn't bring myself to hate him.
Because for a second… under the Eiffel Tower… I saw something real in his eyes. A flicker. A crack in the cold mask.
I sighed and walked over to the vanity.
I needed to get ready.
For what, I wasn't sure.
But if I was going to survive this marriage, I had to protect what was left of me.
I wouldn't cry.I wouldn't beg.
But I would remember who I was before I became a Mrs.
And maybe… find my way back to her.
*************
Later that day, I left the mansion for the first time in days.
I needed fresh air.
I needed to feel like myself again.
I met up with Rachel and Naomi my two best friends from college. I hadn't told them much, just enough to meet up without suspicion. We went to a café in the city, the kind with velvet booths and soft jazz playing in the background.
"You look… different," Rachel said, sipping her latte. "In a good way. Paris must have done something to you."
I gave her a soft smile. "Maybe. Or maybe it's just life reminding me to keep going."
Naomi studied me carefully. "You're not happy, are you?"
"I'm adjusting," I admitted. "Some days are easier than others."
We didn't talk about Justin.
Not really.
But I knew they knew. And I was grateful they didn't press too hard.
After lunch, I returned to the mansion, hoping foolishly that maybe he would have reached out.
Still nothing.
The silence between us stretched so wide, it felt like an ocean.
That night, I couldn't bear to stay in our bedroom.
So I went to one of the guest rooms on the far end of the house the one with the white marble tiles and silver curtains. It was cold and unfamiliar, but at least it wasn't filled with the scent of him.
I refused dinner.Told the butler I wasn't hungry.
He looked at me with kind eyes, like he understood. But he didn't say a word.
I curled up on the couch in the visitor's room, knees drawn to my chest, trying to convince myself that I didn't care.
That his distance didn't hurt.But I was lying.I had taken a step toward him in Paris.And he had taken five back.It was a game of tug-of-war with no winner.Eventually, my eyes grew heavy.And sleep came not peaceful, but necessary.
Because I didn't know what tomorrow would bring.Only that I'd face it like I faced today.With silence.And strength.Even if I had to fake both.