Chapter 7
978 Words
Chapter 7: Unspoken Truths
Ela woke up to the soft hum of the city outside her window and the subtle warmth of another presence beside her. Stuart’s back was to her, steady breathing marking the rhythm of early morning peace. Her first instinct was not to move, not to disturb whatever fragile moment this was.
But the thoughts wouldn’t let her be still.
Last night had changed something. He hadn’t spoken much. He hadn’t touched her. Yet, something invisible had shifted in the air between them. For the first time since they married, he chose to be in the same space without needing to justify it.
When she finally got out of bed, she left quietly. She didn’t want to break whatever tentative thread of progress they’d found.
Downstairs, Victoria Edwards was already having tea in the sunroom. The older woman glanced up at Ela with her usual detached poise, but there was a hint of curiosity today.
“He stayed with you last night,” she said without preamble.
Ela blinked. “I didn’t think his mother would keep tabs on the bedrooms.”
Victoria sipped her tea. “I don’t. But the help talks. And I listen.”
Ela considered ignoring the remark but changed her mind. “I didn’t ask him to.”
“I know.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then Victoria spoke, her tone softer. “He was different before Olivia. Before the miscarriage. You must understand, Stuart has always carried the world on his shoulders, but Olivia... her leaving broke something in him. I feared it might never be repaired.”
Ela nodded slowly. “I’m not here to replace her.”
“I know that too.” Victoria stood up, walked to Ela, and for the first time, placed a hand on her shoulder. “But I do think you’re the only person who has a chance to help him remember who he used to be.”
Ela’s chest tightened.
---
Later that day, Stuart emerged from his office looking more like himself—sharp suit, unreadable face, phone in hand.
“I need you to come with me to an event tonight,” he said. “Corporate benefit for child mental health. Press will be there. Wear something formal.”
“Is this a duty or a favor?” she asked.
He paused. “A little of both.”
That night, Ela wore an emerald green gown. Not because he’d asked—he hadn’t—but because she remembered his mother once saying green brought out the warmth in her eyes. Stuart looked at her for a moment longer than necessary when she came down the stairs. But he didn’t say a word.
The gala was exactly as expected—champagne, handshakes, curated smiles. Ela played her part well. Stuart kept close but spoke very little. Yet every time their eyes met, something silent passed between them. Not warmth. Not yet. But not distance either.
At one point, Ela excused herself to the restroom. On the way, she overheard two board members whispering.
“Surprised he brought the wife tonight.”
“Well, after what happened with Olivia, I suppose he’s learned to move on… contract or not.”
Ela froze.
So, they knew. Or suspected.
She walked away without letting her face betray emotion, but it cut deep. People believed their marriage was a business deal. And they weren’t entirely wrong.
Back in the car on the way home, she finally said, “Do people at your company know it’s a contract marriage?”
Stuart didn’t look at her. “Some suspect. No one has proof.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because perception is reality in our world.”
“Even if it’s a lie?”
“Especially then.”
Ela turned to the window. “I’m not ashamed of what we agreed to. But I’m tired of pretending it’s not affecting me.”
He was silent.
“I didn’t expect love, Stuart. But I expected… something. Dignity. Respect. Maybe even friendship.”
“I never promised love.”
“No,” she whispered, “but you promised not to make me feel invisible.”
When they reached home, he didn’t follow her upstairs. The door closed behind her like a final note in a song she didn’t want to hear.
---
A few days later, Ela’s brother called. His treatments in London were progressing well. He asked if she was happy. She lied and said yes.
That night, she found herself back in the attic, flipping through Victoria’s journal again.
But this time, she noticed a different section. One that wasn’t about Olivia.
“Stuart was never cruel. But he learned to punish himself in silence. The deeper his hurt, the colder he became. It is not his anger that frightens me—it’s his sadness.”
Ela closed the book slowly.
That night, she knocked on Stuart’s study door.
He looked up, surprised. “Something wrong?”
“No. Just… wanted to ask something.”
“Go on.”
“Would you have married me, if Olivia hadn’t left?”
He was quiet.
Then: “No.”
She nodded. She expected it.
“But,” he added, “I think… I would have missed out on something rare.”
Ela looked at him, her eyes softening. “Like what?”
He closed his laptop. Walked over to her. “Someone who sees me. Even when I don't speak.”
She stood there, unsure of what to say.
Then he did something unexpected.
He took her hand. Just for a second. A touch.
Not of desire. Not of ownership.
But of connection.
Unspoken truths, shared in silence.
(End of Chapter 7)
Chapter 7: "Unspoken Truths" is now complete. Shall we continue with Chapter 8: “The Man He Used to Be”?
- Writer
