Chapter 7

CEDRIC

I'd been sitting in the silence of my study for the better part of an hour, immobilized by the two-square-inch box in my hand.

My brain demanded I put the box out of mind and out of sight so I could focus on the pile of work ahead of me. My thumb made another lap around the lid of the box instead.

I'd done all the calculations. None of them included Elora deciding to walk away from me.

One can spend their whole life thinking they're the master of their soul, only to find out they're just another debtor paying for the privilege of choice.

I used to have a flawless blueprint for my life: become the next Vandermere patriarch, take the family's legacy to unprecedented heights, and install Vanessa –my high school crush whom I finally got the chance to date after college– as the matriarch. We were supposed to build an empire together.

Grandpa ruined that for me.

Phase one of my future was already guaranteed. I only needed Grandpa to officially instate me as his successor.

Phase two was moving a bit rockily since Vanessa and I had this huge fight. But I was going to make it work.

Then one day, Grandpa called a meeting in his bedroom, where he was propped up in his motorized wheelchair, tubes running from the oxygen machine into his nose.

I'd expected it to be business as usual.

Not for him to place in front of me a choice to either marry his live-in nurse or forfeit my inheritance.

I'd never felt so suddenly crippled in my life.

He was taking my life and placing it in the hands of this woman.

Naturally, I retaliated. I gave Elora absolutely nothing. I made it explicitly clear that she was a contractual obligation and nothing more to me. I was fully prepared to hate her for the duration of the arrangement.

Until that one midnight, when I stumbled into her room drunk and crossed a boundary I'd sworn to never cross.

Touching my wife for the very first time was supposed to be a mistake. But it was as if everything about her got branded into my mind after that night.

When I woke up the next morning with a hangover, I wanted to return to that headspace of hatred but couldn't any longer.

Elora had wedged herself into my head.

I was suddenly looking at my forced bride and seeing something permanent I wasn't prepared to accept.

So, I locked that night away and refused to make a big deal out of it.

And as the universe would have it, I was provided with the perfect distraction. Vanessa arrived at the estate with my five-month-old son, from the night we had before our break-up. Jamie.

The timing was just impeccable. All I had to do was weaponize the situation against the vulnerability Elora had infected me with.

I dedicated everything to taking care of my child and his mother instead. I gave them all my attention, punishing Elora for making me feel exposed and ensuring I never had to address the unresolved tension between us.

A mindless pop of the lid, and I was staring blankly at the piece of jewellery sitting perfectly inside the box.

Four years and six months might have been a long time to get to this point, but I eventually did. I'd decided the standoff was over.

Vanessa and Jamie would move to the new house I got them. Then I'd officially claim Elora on our anniversary.

"I filed for a divorce," she'd suddenly announced like she'd been waiting to say those words her whole life.

Divorce?

I stood still in front of her, but my head was going to explode right there.

You don't endure four years of my ice, wait until Arthur is dead, and then just walk away the moment I decide I want you. It was quite rude of her to carve a space for herself in my heart and then decide to leave it vacant. Not now.

No, Elora. You had four years to make a choice and you didn't.

You had four years to call things off. Grandpa had already given me all my inheritance. You could have left then.

"We're not getting a divorce."

"This is not a joke, Cedric. My lawyer has already filed the copies."

"Grandpa just died, Elora. The grass on his grave hasn't even started sprouting."

"That's exactly why it's time we divorced."

Do something, Cedric. Fast.

"I signed an agreement with Grandpa. Half of my inheritance was put into a trust. I don't get it unless our marriage reaches at least six years. This is just four years and eleven months."

That was a lie. There was no trust between Arthur and me. But I had to do something. I couldn't just let her leave like that.

But my lie didn't even make her stay. She was so done with me that she packed her bags anyway.

Disappointing.

But I bought myself an extra thirteen months. They will be utilized to the best of my capabilities.

I tapped the box shut just as my assistant knocked on the door.

"She relocated to a residential high-rise in the city," Kelvin immediately reported, placing a phone on the desk.

"The apartment belongs to a Miss Chloe Locke. It appears they're close friends."

I picked up the phone, staring at the image of the building, a muscle twitching in my jaw.

She actually traded the luxury of the Vandermere estate for that place, just because she didn't want to look at me anymore.

I handed the phone back to Kelvin. Then I glanced at my watch.

"Is Jamie already off to school?"

"The driver is just bringing the car around for him now, sir."

I stood up, grabbing the box off the desk. I dropped it into the bottom drawer and turned the key.

"I'll drop him off."

---

TWELVE MINUTES LATER

"There's Leo," Jamie suddenly announced as I helped him out of the backseat. He pointed ahead at some other kids and their parents walking into the school.

"And Mateo!" he added with an excited jump that made me smile.

"Wow," I said, exaggerating the word. Then I took hold of his hand. "You've already made two friends. You even remember their names."

"I made three... no..." Jamie slowed his pace, watching his own hand as his fingers popped out one by one.

"Four!" He shot his hand up.

"Impressive. That's very impressive."

"Look! It's Elora!" Jamie jumped again.

My head turned faster than my ears could even finish processing Jamie's announcement. I quickly searched the mass of space ahead of us with my eyes.

Except for the one time she travelled to France for six months, or whenever I was out of the house for several days due to work. This was the first time in years I'd gone three days without seeing Elora around.

I spotted that familiar head of long, curly hair, buried against the shoulder of a child.

It was really Elora.

So much warmth radiated from her you'd almost not believe the kind of coldness she always dished out to me.

But why was she here?

Who was that little girl her arms were fiercely wrapped around?