Chapter 13
1506 Words
Chapter 13: The Past Never Sleeps
The warmth of a fresh start still clung to the air in the Edwards home. With their second wedding now a memory woven with grace and healing, Ela and Stuart moved like a couple who had battled through fire and emerged stronger—but the past has its own way of lingering, even in silence.
It started subtly.
A phone call in the middle of the night that went unanswered. A text that Stuart stared at for a few seconds too long before locking his phone. And a strange restlessness in his eyes that returned after he’d seemed so at peace.
Ela noticed.
She always noticed.
But she didn’t ask right away. She waited, hoping he would come to her first. Hoping this new foundation they had laid wouldn’t be so fragile.
They were having dinner on the patio—grilled salmon, roasted potatoes, and Ela’s new pregnancy craving: mango salad. The wind rustled the leaves in the garden as they ate in silence.
Finally, Ela set her fork down.
“Is something going on?”
Stuart looked up. “What do you mean?”
“You’re distracted. You’ve been getting these late-night calls. And you always clear your notifications now.”
He frowned. “I’m just trying not to be glued to my phone all the time. You asked for that.”
“I didn’t ask for secrecy.”
He set his fork down. “It’s not what you think.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
Stuart hesitated. “It’s someone from my past. Business-related. Someone I wish had stayed buried.”
Ela tilted her head. “Who?”
“Clara Vincent.”
Ela froze.
The name came with weight. History. Stuart’s ex-fiancée. The woman who had left him at the altar five years ago.
“She reached out to me two weeks ago,” Stuart said slowly. “Said she was in trouble. She’s being sued, her company’s collapsing, and she wants me to help her navigate the legal mess.”
Ela’s voice dropped. “You didn’t tell me because?”
“I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to upset you.”
“So you chose to lie instead.”
“I didn’t lie. I just... withheld.”
Ela stood up, the chair scraping softly against the stone tiles. “That’s a lie with softer packaging.”
“Ela—”
“Do you still have feelings for her?”
“No!” His voice rose sharply. “That ship sank a long time ago. But I owe her. Not emotionally—professionally. She helped me secure funding for the first tech company I launched. Without her, I wouldn’t have my first ten million.”
“And she didn’t return the favor when she left you.”
“That was personal. This is business.”
Ela crossed her arms. “There’s no such thing as just business when the past is involved.”
Silence fell again.
She looked at him with clear, calm eyes. “If you want to help her, I won’t stop you. But I want transparency. Full honesty. No more hidden messages. No more late-night calls you don’t mention.”
Stuart nodded. “You have my word.”
Ela turned and walked back into the house. He stayed outside, staring into the darkening sky.
But the past had already slipped into their lives—and it wouldn’t leave so easily.
---
The next day, Ela attended her first prenatal yoga class. It was a serene environment—soft music, calming voices, and women at various stages of pregnancy sharing stories and gentle stretches.
But her mind was elsewhere.
As she bent into a warrior pose, she thought of Clara. What did she look like now? What did she want from Stuart? And why had she really come back?
Later, over tea with Victoria, Ela finally shared the news.
“You let him help her?” Victoria asked, almost spitting her tea.
Ela nodded. “I can’t control who needs help. I can only control how honest we are about it.”
Victoria leaned back. “You’re either the most mature woman I know or the craziest.”
“Maybe both.”
“But you don’t trust her.”
“No,” Ela admitted. “I don’t. And I’m watching.”
---
Clara met Stuart in a sleek, high-rise café downtown. She was dressed in a tailored navy suit, her platinum hair tied back in a tight bun, and she wore her desperation like a fragrance—subtle but noticeable.
“I didn’t think you’d actually come,” she said.
“I’m not here to rekindle anything,” Stuart said plainly. “This is strictly business.”
She gave him a tired smile. “Of course. You were always the one who drew lines.”
“And you were always the one who crossed them.”
They discussed her company’s crisis. Lawsuits. Investor betrayals. A crumbling reputation.
“You want me to vouch for you publicly?” Stuart asked.
Clara nodded. “Just a short statement. You’ve got credibility. If you say I’m worth trusting, I’ll get a few more weeks to breathe.”
“I need to think about it.”
“Do you still hate me?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t think about you enough to hate you anymore.”
She flinched. “That’s worse.”
He stood. “I’ll have my legal team review everything. But don’t expect favors.”
“I’m not expecting a favor,” Clara said. “I’m hoping you remember who you were before you married your little charity case.”
Stuart froze.
“What did you say?”
She smiled coldly. “I’ve read about your wife. Ela Parkar, right? Sweet. Innocent. Pregnant. Almost poetic, really. How convenient that she arrived just as your reputation needed a makeover.”
Stuart leaned forward, voice sharp. “Don’t you ever speak about her again.”
Clara’s eyes narrowed. “So she’s the line now?”
“She’s everything you’re not.”
He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with her ruined company and venomous words.
---
That night, Stuart told Ela everything.
Even Clara’s insult.
Ela listened without flinching. “So she hates me.”
“She doesn’t even know you.”
“She knows I have your heart.”
“You always had it.”
Ela smiled. “Even when you didn’t know?”
He nodded. “Especially then.”
She reached for his hand. “I trust you. But I won’t be blind. If she keeps crossing lines—”
“She won’t,” Stuart said firmly.
But he was wrong.
The next morning, a scandal broke on social media.
A tabloid posted a blurry photo of Stuart and Clara at the café. The headline read: CEO Caught Reconnecting With Ex as Pregnant Wife Stays Home.
Ela saw it before he did.
Victoria sent it with a single caption: Want me to call a hitman?
Ela’s hands trembled. Not with anger. But with exhaustion.
She called Stuart immediately. “You need to fix this. Now.”
“I didn’t leak it. I swear—”
“I know. But this isn’t just gossip anymore. This is my name. My face. Our child’s future.”
“I’ll handle it.”
“You’d better. Because the next person who calls me ‘your charity case’ might not live to see tomorrow.”
---
Stuart issued a public statement that same day.
In it, he declared his full commitment to Ela and condemned the media’s invasion of privacy. He confirmed his involvement with Clara’s legal troubles but made it clear that no personal relationship existed or would ever exist between them again.
Still, the story went viral. Comment sections exploded. Old pictures of Stuart and Clara resurfaced. People speculated.
Ela shut off her social media accounts.
She spent the evening in bed, one hand on her belly, the other holding her wedding ring.
When Stuart returned that night, she didn’t yell.
She didn’t cry.
She simply said, “We need boundaries. Not just with Clara. With the world.”
He nodded, sitting beside her. “I’ll hire a full-time PR rep. We’ll do an exclusive with a trusted publication. Tell the real story. No contracts. No drama. Just us.”
“Promise me one thing,” Ela said.
“Anything.”
“If Clara contacts you again, I want to be the first to know.”
“You will.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “The past never sleeps, Stuart. But we can’t let it crawl into our bed.”
“I won’t let it,” he whispered.
Outside, the wind picked up, carrying the last of the autumn leaves away.
But inside their home, they clung to the one thing that had weathered the storm:
Each other.
(End of Chapter 13)
Chapter 13: "The Past Never Sleeps" Would you like me to begin Chapter 14: "The Distance Between Hearts" next?
- Writer
