Chapter 9
1100 Words
Chapter 9: Storms Behind Closed Doors
The memory of Stuart’s kiss lingered on Ela’s lips like morning dew that refused to fade. It felt like a door opening—an unexpected gust of spring air in a long, cold winter. She had gone to sleep that night replaying the moment over and over, letting it lull her into a rare, dreamless slumber.
But even the sweetest moments can be interrupted by thunder.
The next morning brought more than just grey skies—it brought conflict.
Ela had barely finished breakfast when Stuart walked into the dining room, eyes sharp, jaw tight. He threw a newspaper on the table with a thud.
Ela blinked, startled. “What is this?”
“Page three,” he said. His voice was calm. Too calm.
She turned the page, and her heart dropped.
A photo of them at the gallery. But not just any photo. One of them standing too close, faces too soft. And the headline beneath it: From Business to Bed: The Contracted Couple’s Unscripted Romance?
Ela looked up, her cheeks flushing. “Who—how?”
“Apparently someone from the gallery leaked the story. Or sold it. Doesn’t matter.”
“Why are you angry with me?”
“I’m not angry at you,” he said, pacing. “I’m angry that we were careless. That I was careless.”
Ela felt the sting of his words. “You think that kiss was a mistake?”
He stopped. “No. But the world seeing it was.”
“That wasn’t my fault, Stuart. We weren’t even posing.”
“I know. But now the board is asking questions. Investors want clarification. And Olivia’s name is trending again. They're dragging up the past.”
Ela stood slowly. “So this is about her again?”
His silence was her answer.
She walked away without another word, but her heart was a storm of confusion.
---
Victoria found her in the greenhouse two hours later. Ela was sitting among the roses, eyes red, hands trembling around a neglected watering can.
“I assume he showed you the article,” Victoria said, settling beside her.
Ela nodded.
“You care for him more than you admit, don’t you?”
“I didn’t plan to,” she whispered. “But when he kissed me, I felt hope again. Like maybe we weren’t strangers anymore.”
“He’s still grieving,” Victoria said gently. “But grieving doesn’t excuse cruelty. Or cowardice.”
Ela looked down. “I don’t think he knows how to be loved anymore. He pushes away what might hurt him again.”
Victoria placed a hand over hers. “Then maybe you should stop waiting to be chosen. Maybe you need to choose yourself.”
---
That night, Stuart came home late. Ela was already in bed, reading a book, pretending not to wait for him. But her spine stiffened when the door opened.
He paused at the doorway.
“I handled the press,” he said quietly. “There won’t be any more stories.”
She didn’t look at him. “Good.”
He stepped inside. “Ela…”
“I’m tired, Stuart.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like the kiss was a mistake.”
She finally looked at him. “But you didn’t say it wasn’t.”
He exhaled, walking toward her. “I’m scared. I’m not used to this… wanting to let someone in again.”
Ela closed her book. “Then maybe stop standing at the door. Maybe walk through it.”
He nodded. “I’ll try.”
“No. Don’t try,” she said firmly. “Just decide. Because I can’t keep dancing in limbo. I won’t beg you to see me.”
He reached out, brushing his fingers against hers. “You don’t have to beg. I see you, Ela. More than you know.”
---
The days that followed were strangely peaceful. He began texting her during the day. Small things. Updates. Jokes. Photos of the sky from his office. She even visited his company for lunch, and his assistant smiled knowingly.
“You’re different,” the woman said. “He laughs now.”
Ela smiled back, heart warming.
But the storm hadn’t passed yet.
One evening, Stuart received a visitor. Ela saw her through the upstairs window. Blonde. Elegant. Too familiar.
Olivia.
She opened the door herself before Stuart could stop her. Olivia’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Well,” she said. “You must be the new Mrs. Edwards.”
Ela stood tall. “And you must be the ex who left without looking back.”
Olivia’s smile was polite, cold. “Is Stuart in?”
“He is. But I’ll ask if he wants to see you.”
She turned and found him behind her. Frozen.
“I heard the bell,” he said quietly. “Liv…”
Ela stepped aside. “Your past is at the door. I won’t close it for you.”
She walked away, leaving him there. Listening to her own heart break in silence.
---
He didn’t return to their room that night.
Ela stayed awake, staring at the ceiling.
Was this her mistake? Thinking a man shattered by another could ever truly belong to her?
The next morning, she found him on the balcony, still dressed in yesterday’s clothes.
“She came to say goodbye,” he said.
Ela said nothing.
“She’s marrying someone in France. Wanted closure.”
Ela still said nothing.
He turned to her, eyes red. “She didn’t ask about me. Not really. Just wanted to feel like she mattered. And I realized… she doesn’t anymore. Not like you do.”
Ela looked at him, tears threatening.
“I told her I’m married,” he continued. “And for the first time, I wanted that to mean something.”
She stepped closer. “And does it?”
He reached for her hand. “It means everything. But I have to earn it now.”
She didn’t pull away. “Then start with this: stop calling me your wife for the sake of appearance. Call me your wife because I am.”
He nodded slowly. “Ela Edwards.”
And for the first time, the name didn’t feel borrowed. It felt like the truth.
The storm behind their doors had passed—for now. But they both knew more would come.
Yet for the first time, they were ready to face them.
Together.
(End of Chapter 9)
Ready for Chapter 10: “A Faint Blue Line”?
- Writer
