UNSPOKEN TRUTHS
1072 Words
"The photographers are stationed by the balcony," Andre said, his voice.He didn't look at her; his attention was fixed on adjusting his cufflinks.
It still felt unreal…He couldn't understand how his life had moved with such speed, getting engaged and married all in a space of one month and his choice didn't matter. He didn't have a say even in his own marital life and his father made sure of it.
Well he would comply, but on his own terms.
He wasn't going to dote on a wife he didn't choose or love.
Wouldn’t pretend affection beyond what the cameras demanded. Whatever this was, it would remain a performance.
“My father wants you radiant. Don’t disappoint.”
Elara’s lips curved into a tight smile. “Radiant or not, you could try pretending you enjoy this too.”
They stepped onto the terrace. Flashbulbs popped. Elara forced a smile, linking her arm through his as instructed. To the cameras, they were the perfect couple.
Andre leaned close, his voice low. “Your hand’s shaking.”
“Adrenaline, you're my husband to be after all” she said, trying to sound confident. “And the fact that you’re holding me like I’m fragile china.”
“I’m holding a billion-dollar asset,” he countered, hand brushing her waist.
The touch sent an involuntary shiver through her spine. She couldn't help the feeling and she hated that her body betrayed her reacting faster than her pride could stop it.
They moved among the crowd, posing for every shot; everyone admiring the perfect couple, glasses raised in synchronized toast, a protective hand on the small of her back, a whispered correction to a stray strand of hair, fingers lingering.
“You’re doing well,” Elara whispered when a brief gap in the crowd gave them privacy. “Even the skeptics will buy it.”
Andre's gaze softened momentarily, then hardened. “This is all a performance. Don’t mistake it for… anything real.”
“I know,” she replied. “But can you at least pretend you’re not disgusted by my presence?”
“I don’t find you repulsive,” he said quietly. “I find this situation suffocating, big difference.”
A photographer shouted for the final shot. He cupped her cheek, tilting her face toward the camera. “Look like you’re in love,” he said softly.
Elara didn't need to try, she was.
ELENA'S_____POV
ONE MONTH LATER
Alex had kept his word.
He hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t asked invasive questions. Hadn’t demanded explanations or gratitude. He’d helped her get temporary accommodation, lent her clothes without making it feel like charity, and somehow without prying helped her secure small freelance work she could do remotely.
He never asked why she flinched at raised voices. Never asked who she was running from or why she sometimes stared into space like she was bracing for something that never came.
But she knew the truth.
Whatever stability and peace she had now was temporary, She had stopped lying to herself two weeks ago.
The missed period.
The dizziness.
The way certain smells made her stomach revolt.
The truth had been sitting quietly in her chest, waiting for her to acknowledge it.
I know what this means.
She just wasn’t ready to say it out loud.
Someone knocked her door softly, and she knew who it was.
Alex would stop by in the morning on weekends to check on her and have a chat or they could hangout if she felt like it.
As always, he came in and moved around the space like someone who didn’t want to intrude, even though he paid for it.
“ Hey Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “You okay? ” he proceeded to ask, seeing her dull countenance.
Elena nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Just… slow mornings.”
Alex studied her for a second longer than usual. Not her body…just her face. The faint shadows under her eyes. The way she avoided meeting his gaze when she reached for the chair.
‘Could he see it already and was waiting for her to come clean.’ Maybe she was overthinking things.
“You didn’t eat much yesterday,” he said casually, pouring tea into two cups. “I made your favourite toast.”
He was always so cheerful.
Her stomach twisted again, violently this time.
She turned away quickly. “I’ll eat later.”
Alex didn’t push. He never did.
“Alright,” he said after a pause. “I have to step out for a bit, I wanted to say hi before going. I’ll be back before noon.”
She exhaled in relief she hated herself for feeling.
When the door closed behind him, Elena sank into the chair, her fingers trembling as she reached into the drawer she kept hidden beneath folded clothes.
The small white box stared back at her.
She hadn’t thrown it away.
Hadn’t opened it again either, maybe if it remained that way she might not have to face the reality about to hit her.
Some truths changed everything once spoken.
Her phone buzzed on the table. A reminder from the clinic she’d visited three days ago under a false name.
Follow-up appointment available.
________
Footsteps echoed faintly in the hallway outside.
Alex was back earlier than expected.
She slid the box deeper into the drawer, her hand lingering there as if she could physically push the truth away.
When he opened the door, their eyes met.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, softer this time.
Elena smiled.
It was the same lie she’d been practicing for weeks.
“I’m fine.”
And for the first time since she arrived in this country, she wondered how long she could keep saying it before the truth demanded to be seen.
“We need to talk,” she said suddenly.
Alex straightened, concerned replacing his easy smile. “Okay.”
Elena stood, turning away from him.
Her voice shook. “There’s something I should’ve told you sooner.”
Alex took a step forward but stopped himself.
“Elena”
Her phone buzzed loudly on the table.
Both of them froze.
She stared at the screen.
Clinic Reminder: Today, 2:00 PM
Alex followed her gaze.
The room went still.
“What’s that?” he asked quietly.
Elena closed her eyes.
And in that moment, she knew
nothing would ever be the same.
- Writer
