Behind Closed Vows

Hope

Chapter Five

“I’m going to be straightforward with you, Miss Elena,” the secretary said without even glancing properly at my resume. “We don’t have any suitable position for you here.”

She slid the document back across the desk toward me with barely concealed disdain.

“You might have better luck with blue-collar roles—janitorial work, kitchen assistant, retail sales, something along those lines.”

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the edges of the paper until it creased.

“To be honest,” she continued in an icy tone, “we prioritize trust and integrity. Given the scandal you were involved in, we simply don’t believe you’re a good match for our company.”

The interview—if it could even be called that—ended before I could respond. I left the building carrying the familiar, suffocating weight of rejection.

This wasn’t the first time. I knew it wouldn’t be the last.

I had tried. God, how desperately I had tried.

I moved from one office to the next, resume in hand, forcing a bright smile, mentally rehearsing answers to questions I rarely got the chance to deliver. I kept hoping someone would look beyond my name, beyond the rumors. But the moment they saw my documents, the verdict was already written: poor grades, the inevitable result of years spent deliberately dimming my own light so someone else could shine brighter.

And even if my academic record hadn’t disqualified me, there was always the other barrier—the invisible one.

The scandal.

No matter where I went, my name remained chained to Sophia and Marcus’s story. Every door slammed shut before I could even knock properly.

Why are you so cruel, New York City?

The question slipped out with a faint, bitter smile as night fell. I sat on the grass near the lagoon, letting the cool breeze wrap around me, pretending for a moment that the city could be gentle.

Laughter floated nearby—couples leaning into each other, children running through the last traces of daylight, carefree and noisy.

And then there was me: sore feet, exhausted from hours of walking past buildings that had already decided I wasn’t welcome.

I needed a job. Anything. Something.

But New York seemed determined to keep every door locked against me.

Do I really have no place here? I asked the darkening sky, as though the stars might spell out an answer.

I drew a long, trembling breath as the truth settled in.

New York isn’t meant for you, Elena.

The words escaped in a whisper. My gaze drifted across the glittering, indifferent scene before me.

Beautiful.

Unforgiving.

Completely indifferent.

Marcus was right, I thought with a hollow laugh. You really are pathetic.

The word burned on my tongue, but it felt true.

All my life I’d been starving for belonging—shrinking myself, twisting into shapes I barely recognized, chasing my father’s approval, Aunt Caroline’s acceptance, Sophia’s affection, Marcus’s love.

And I had been painfully blind.

To them, I was never a daughter, never a sister, never a niece, never a friend.

I was simply evidence.

Living proof of my father’s infidelity.

A mistake that refused to vanish.

If I hadn’t spent my youth trapped in Sophia’s shadow, I might have excelled in school. Companies might have fought to hire me. If I hadn’t poured every ounce of my intelligence into work that carried only her name, I wouldn’t be here—broke, jobless, talking to a city that didn’t care whether I lived or died.

Was it wrong to want to know what belonging felt like?

I bit my lip until it stung, fighting back the tears.

Was it truly impossible for someone like me?

As a little girl, I had once dreamed of becoming like Aunt Caroline.

She was formidable—poised, impeccable, commanding. She stood beside my father as his equal, never his shadow. When she spoke, rooms fell silent. When she entered, the air itself seemed to shift in deference.

I used to think that was real power.

In my childish fantasies, I saw myself in perfectly tailored suits, heels clicking authoritatively across marble, designer bags dangling from my arm, jewelry catching every light—my very presence announcing that I mattered.

I even told her about the dream once.

Aunt Caroline had only given a cold, dismissive smile and said it was impossible for someone like me.

So I learned to disappear.

I completed Sophia’s assignments, projects, research—pouring my mind into work that would never bear my name. She received praise and perfect scores while I was granted just enough to scrape by.

I told myself it was necessary. Survival demanded obedience.

Now I was paying the price for every dream I’d buried, every line I’d refused to cross, every piece of myself I’d erased just to earn a corner in a family that never wanted me.

By the time I finally stood to leave, the lagoon had emptied. I didn’t want to abandon the small comfort of the open space, but my stomach growled sharply, reminding me I’d eaten nothing all day except a sliver of cake at one of the interviews.

My legs trembled as I rose. The world tilted. Dizziness crashed over me.

I squeezed my eyes shut, breathing slowly, forcing myself upright.

Why are you so weak these days, Elena? You have no right to fall apart—not now, not when there’s no one left to catch you.

After a few agonizing minutes, the spinning eased. I couldn’t afford to collapse here.

Just get home, I muttered to myself, taking slow, deliberate steps.

I hadn’t gone far when I passed a pharmacy.

Before reason could stop me, my feet carried me inside.

I walked straight to the counter, grabbed what I needed, paid with my head down—avoiding the cashier’s gaze—and left as quickly as I’d entered.

I used the very last of my strength to reach my apartment.

Inside, I went directly to the tiny bathroom. My hands shook as I read the instructions on the box, following each step with slow, mechanical precision.

There was nothing left to do but wait.

My heart hammered so loudly it drowned out everything else.

I glanced at my watch.

When the time was up, I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

Then, slowly, hesitantly, I looked down at the small stick resting on the edge of the toilet tank.

My hand flew to my mouth.

A soft, stunned gasp escaped me.

Disbelief flooded through every inch of my body.

Oh my God.