CHAPTER FOUR: CRACK THE SHELL
1884 Words
That night after dinner, I lay in the guest room, staring at the ceiling.
My heart was heavy with everything that had happened at the table.
Damien’s cold words still rang in my ears, but so did Isabel’s firm voice telling him to respect me.
For the first time since I stepped into this house, I didn’t feel completely alone. Isabel’s presence gave me a small spark of comfort, a light in this cage I had been forced into.
The next morning, I decided to make breakfast again. It was quiet in the kitchen as I laid out the plates.
When Damien came down, he didn’t even look at me at first. He grabbed his coffee like usual, scrolling on his phone.
“Good morning,” I said softly, hoping he might answer.
“Morning,” he replied shortly, his eyes still glued to the screen.
I gathered my courage. “About last night… I’m sorry if I caused trouble with your father.”
Damien finally looked at me, his expression sharp. A bitter smirk tugged at his lips. “Sorry? You think saying sorry fixes everything?”
My throat tightened, but I stayed calm. “I just didn’t want to make things harder for you.”
He let out a short, humorless laugh. “Trust me, Elena, nothing you do could make things easier. You’re just another problem I didn’t ask for.”
The words cut deep, but I forced myself not to cry. I bit my lip, keeping my voice steady. “I only wanted to help.”
“Well,” he said sarcastically, setting down his coffee cup with a loud clink, “next time, try helping by staying quiet. My life was peaceful before you came into it.”
He stood, adjusted his tie, and headed for the door. “Don’t wait up for me. I don’t want you sitting around thinking this is some fairy tale marriage.”
I sat frozen, the sting of his words heavy in my chest.
----
Later that afternoon, Isabel dropped by again. She walked into the kitchen, sunglasses perched on her head, holding two bags of takeout.
“You didn’t eat, did you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I smiled weakly. “I had some coffee.”
She sighed and set the bags down. “Coffee isn’t a meal, sweetheart. Sit, we’re eating together.”
We sat in the living room, and slowly, the heaviness I carried began to lift.
Isabel had a way of filling the silence with warmth. She cracked jokes, teased me about being too quiet, and reminded me that I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
But then her tone softened. “Listen, Elena. Damien may act cold, but he’s not as heartless as he wants you to believe. He’s carrying things he doesn’t talk about. Don’t let his walls scare you. You belong here.”
Her words sank deep, but before I could answer, the sound of the front door opening made us both turn.
Damien stepped inside—
and he wasn’t alone.
Selene followed closely behind, her hand brushing his arm, a smug smile on her lips as her eyes met mine.
“Hello, Elena,” she said sweetly, her voice dripping with false kindness. “I hope you don’t mind—I’ll be joining Damien for dinner tonight.”
I froze, anger and hurt knotting in my chest.
But before I could answer, Isabel stood up slowly, crossing her arms with a sharp smile.
“Well, that’s interesting,” she said coolly. “Because last time I checked, this house belongs to my brother and his wife. Not you.”
Selene’s smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. “I’m just here as a friend.”
“Then act like one,” Isabel shot back. “A real friend doesn’t show up uninvited to a married man’s house. Especially when his wife is here.”
Damien frowned, clearly irritated. “Isabel—”
“No, Damien,” Isabel interrupted, her tone firm but calm. “You can keep pretending all you want, but you’re married now. Start acting like it.”
The tension thickened. Selene’s eyes narrowed, Damien’s jaw clenched, and I sat silently, my heart pounding.
Selene walked further into the living room like she owned the place, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. She wore a gentle smile, tilting her head as though she were the one who had been wronged.
“Isabel,” she said sweetly, placing a hand over her heart. “You misunderstand. I’m not here to cause trouble. Damien and I… we’ve always been close. We didn’t choose this, you know. We love each other, but now—” her voice trembled just enough to sound convincing “—he’s trapped in a marriage he never wanted. And I… I’m just trying to be here for him.”
Her eyes glistened like she might cry, and for a moment, I almost believed her. Almost.
I felt Isabel tense beside me before she suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh. “Oh, Selene. That was a lovely performance. You almost had me convinced.”
Selene’s eyes narrowed, her sweet façade slipping for a second. “I’m not performing. I’m telling the truth.”
Isabel arched a brow and crossed her arms, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “The truth? Please. As far as I know, you and Damien never had a relationship. You were just playing each other. Don’t paint yourself as the heartbroken heroine now—it doesn’t suit you.”
Selene’s cheeks flushed, and her eyes flicked toward Damien as though hoping he’d defend her. But Damien stayed silent, his expression unreadable.
Taking advantage of the silence, Isabel leaned closer to her, her voice calm but firm. “Let me give you a little advice, Selene. If you really cared about Damien, you’d stop parading yourself in his house like you belong here. Because whether you like it or not, Elena is his wife now. That’s the reality.”
Selene’s lips pressed into a thin line, her sweet smile gone. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I do,” Isabel shot back smoothly, her gaze sharp. “And deep down, you know I’m right. So unless you want me to personally escort you out, I suggest you remember your place.”
The room was thick with tension. I sat frozen, my hands gripping the edge of the couch.
Selene’s smile faltered for a second, but she quickly straightened. “Believe what you want.” She turned to Damien, her eyes softening as if Isabel’s words didn’t matter. “Shall we go?”
To my dismay, Damien stood without hesitation, grabbing his keys. He didn’t even look at me as he muttered, “I’ll be back later.”
Selene’s devilish smile returned as she looped her arm through his, clearly savoring her little victory.
She gave me one last pointed look before they left the house together.
The sound of the door closing echoed like a punch to my chest.
I sank back into the chair, my throat tight, but Isabel wasn’t having it.
She tossed her sunglasses onto the table and leaned forward, her eyes blazing.
“That woman is poison,” she said firmly. “And if you don’t do something, she’ll steal Damien right out from under you.”
I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “But Isabel… Selene’s right. Damien and I… we don’t love each other. We’re just married because of an arrangement. That’s all.”
Isabel’s expression softened, though determination still lingered in her eyes. “Then make him love you, Elena. Don’t wait for him to realize your worth—show him.”
I frowned, uncertainty swirling in my chest. “How? He barely looks at me, Isabel. He makes it clear every day that he doesn’t want me here.”
She reached across the table and took my hand, her grip surprisingly warm. “Listen, sweetheart. Damien’s stubborn, but he’s not made of stone. You just have to find the cracks. Do the little things that matter to him.”
“Like what?” I asked hesitantly.
“For starters,” Isabel said, tilting her head, “He has a sweet tooth. He pretends he doesn’t, but Damien loves anything with dark chocolate. If you put a plate of brownies on this table, he’ll eat them before pretending he doesn’t want dessert.”
A small laugh slipped from my lips. “Really?”
“Really.” Isabel smirked. “And he hates an empty house. That’s why he spends so much time working or going out. Make this place feel alive. Fill it with the smell of food, music, laughter—even if he acts like it bothers him. Trust me, it won’t.”
I bit my lip, processing her words. “What if he pushes me away again?”
“Then push back—softly,” she advised. “Don’t argue with him; just… be present. Cook his favorite meals, leave little touches around the house, ask about his day even if he brushes you off. Show him you’re not a guest here—you’re his wife. He may not admit it now, but he needs someone steady.”
Her eyes glinted with a teasing warmth. “And if all else fails, make him jealous. Men like Damien hate the idea of someone else seeing what they’ve been too blind to appreciate.”
I blinked at her, startled. “Jealous?”
She grinned. “Let Damien realize you’re not going to sit around waiting for scraps of his attention. Sometimes, losing the illusion of control is what makes a man wake up.”
Her words sank deep into me, stirring something I hadn’t felt since I moved into this house—hope.
I whispered, “Thank you, Isabel.”
She squeezed my hand. “Don’t thank me yet. Just promise me you’ll fight. Don’t let Selene win, and don’t let Damien’s walls scare you off. You’re stronger than you think, Elena. Prove it to him.”
Her confidence wrapped around me like a blanket. For the first time since the wedding, I felt a flicker of courage.
I nodded slowly, my chest tightening. “I’ll try.”
“Don’t just try,” Isabel said with a small smile. “Do it. For yourself—and for this marriage.”
Her words echoed in my mind long after she left me alone in the living room. I stared at the untouched food on the table, Selene’s smug smile still haunting me.
That night, I stood by the window in the guest room, watching the driveway. Minutes later, headlights cut through the dark as Damien’s car pulled in.
I could see Selene in the passenger seat, laughing at something Damien said.
My heart ached, not from love—at least not yet—but from the deep sting of disrespect.
As they disappeared inside, I clenched my fists. Isabel was right. If I didn’t fight, Selene would win.
For the first time, I whispered to myself, “I won’t let her take everything from me.”
But I didn’t know then…
Selene was willing to do anything to make sure she did.
- Writer
