In Forever

THE WIFE HE NEGLECTED

The first thing Elias noticed about the mansion was the silence.

Not the peaceful kind.

This silence felt expensive. Heavy. Like every wall in the enormous estate had swallowed years of words nobody dared to say aloud.

Elias stood alone in the center of the grand hallway, staring blankly at marble floors that reflected the crystal chandelier above him.

Everything gleamed unnaturally—silver railings, polished black stone, gold-framed paintings staring down with judgmental eyes.

The place looked less like a home and more like a museum dedicated to wealth.

And somehow... he lived here now.

His fingers curled slightly at his sides as he tried grounding himself in reality.

Yesterday, he had died.

He remembered screeching tires. The crushing force of metal tearing through flesh.

The horrified scream on Ivy's face as she tried reaching him.

Then darkness.

Now this.

A billionaire's body. A stranger's life.

Elias still wasn't sure if he had gone insane.

"Sir?"

He nearly jumped at the sudden voice.

An older maid stood several feet away, her posture perfectly straight despite the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Yes?" Elias answered cautiously.

The woman blinked. Confusion flickered across her face for only a second before she quickly lowered her gaze.

"Madam is asking for you."

Madam.

Right. His wife.

A strange knot formed in Elias's chest.

Even after the flood of fragmented memories that occasionally hit him, the idea still felt unreal. He—well, Damien—had a wife.

Serena.

The name itself sounded gentle.

Too gentle for a man like Damien Vale.

The maid hesitated.

"She's waiting in the dining room, sir."

Elias nodded awkwardly. "Thank you."

The maid looked visibly startled.

Perhaps Damien never thanked people.

That realization made discomfort settle deeper into his chest.

As the woman disappeared down the corridor, Elias exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand over his face.

He needed to be careful. These people knew Damien. They knew his habits, his personality.

One wrong move and someone would realize something was terribly wrong.

Unfortunately, Elias barely knew anything himself.

Fragments of Damien's memories drifted through his mind like broken glass—business meetings, luxury parties, cold expressions, whiskey bottles, and one woman.

Celeste.

The emotions attached to her memories were obsessive and destructive.

Damien had loved her with the kind of desperation that consumed reason.

Even Elias could feel the remnants of it lingering faintly in his chest like poison left behind.

But strangely...

Whenever he tried thinking about Serena, there was almost nothing.

No warmth. No affection. No attachment.

Just emptiness.

The thought unsettled him more than anything else.

How could a man marry someone and feel absolutely nothing toward her?

Elias walked slowly toward the dining room, his expensive dress shoes echoing softly against marble floors.

The mansion seemed endless. Every hallway looked untouched, immaculate, lifeless.

Cold.

By the time he reached the dining room doors, his palms had begun sweating.

He wasn't nervous around wealthy people. He had spent years dealing with difficult employers and cruel customers.

But this felt different.

This woman had suffered because of the man whose body he now wore.

And somehow, he was expected to face her.

The doors were already partially open.

Elias stepped inside quietly.

The room was enormous, illuminated by warm golden lighting hanging above an absurdly long dining table.

Yet despite the luxury surrounding her, the woman seated at the far end looked painfully lonely.

Serena Hart Vale.

For a moment, Elias forgot to breathe.

She was beautiful—not in the exaggerated way celebrities often appeared, but in a quieter, heartbreaking way.

Long dark hair framed delicate features softened by exhaustion. Her pale blue dress flowed elegantly around her, though her posture remained tense, guarded.

But it was her eyes that struck him most.

Tired eyes. Eyes belonging to someone who had spent too long waiting for kindness that never came.

When she looked up and saw him standing there, surprise flashed briefly across her face.

Then caution replaced it immediately.

"You're late," she said softly.

Elias froze.

Was he supposed to answer aggressively? Ignore her? Apologize?

He had no idea how Damien normally behaved.

"I..." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry."

Silence.

The atmosphere changed instantly.

Serena stared at him as though he had spoken another language entirely.

Elias realized too late what he had done.

Damien probably never apologized.

He quickly pulled out a chair across from her and sat down, trying to appear calm despite the panic rising inside him.

A servant approached immediately to pour wine into his glass.

Elias instinctively covered the cup lightly with his hand.

"No alcohol."

Another stunned silence.

The servant blinked rapidly.

"Sir?"

"I said no alcohol."

The servant looked genuinely frightened now.

"Yes, sir."

As the servant hurried away, Elias became painfully aware of Serena staring at him again.

Not warmly.

Suspiciously.

"You refused wine," she said carefully.

Elias frowned slightly. "Is that strange?"

"You drink every night."

Ah. Right. Damien had apparently drank himself to death.

The irony nearly made Elias laugh bitterly.

"I don't feel like drinking tonight," he answered quietly.

Serena studied him for several long seconds before looking away.

Something about that tiny movement hurt more than it should have.

Like she had learned not to expect stability from the man sitting before her.

Dinner was served shortly afterward. Several dishes were placed neatly across the table, each more expensive-looking than anything Elias had eaten in his entire life.

Yet Serena barely touched her food.

Elias noticed immediately.

"You're not eating."

The words left his mouth naturally.

Serena paused mid-motion.

"I'm not very hungry."

"You should eat."

The concern in his tone caught her off guard. For a brief second, genuine emotion cracked through her composed expression before disappearing just as quickly.

Elias looked down at his own plate, suddenly uncomfortable.

He wasn't trying to act like a husband.

Taking care of people had simply become instinct to him after raising Ivy alone for twenty years.

Back then, he used to monitor whether she ate properly, slept enough, took medicine when sick.

Love had always looked like responsibility to him.

Perhaps that was why seeing Serena so thin bothered him immediately.

The silence stretched awkwardly again.

Finally, Serena placed her fork down gently.

"What's going on?"

Elias looked up. "What do you mean?"

"You've apologized twice today. You thanked Martha earlier." She folded her hands neatly together. "And now you're pretending to care whether I eat."

Pretending.

The word landed heavily.

Elias swallowed slowly.

"I'm not pretending."

A faint, humorless smile appeared on Serena's lips.

"That's somehow worse."

He frowned slightly. "I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

There was no anger in her voice. That was what made it painful.

Only exhaustion.

Serena leaned back slightly in her chair, her eyes fixed somewhere beyond him.

"For three years, Damien, you barely acknowledged my existence unless it was necessary." Her voice remained calm, practiced. "You missed anniversaries. Birthdays. Family events. Half the time, you slept in another room."

Elias felt guilt crawl painfully through his chest.

Not his guilt. Damien's.

Yet somehow he carried it now.

Serena continued quietly.

"You looked at me like marrying me was a punishment." Her fingers tightened slightly against the table. "So forgive me if I find this sudden personality shift unsettling."

Elias couldn't answer.

Because she was right. Every word felt true.

And the worst part?

He could see from her expression that she had repeated these thoughts silently to herself many times before.

She had suffered alone for so long that even speaking about it sounded emotionless now.

That kind of pain didn't happen overnight.

It accumulated slowly. Quietly. Until it hollowed someone out from the inside.

"I'm sorry," Elias said again before he could stop himself.

Serena let out a soft laugh.

Not amused.

Broken.

"There it is again."

Elias lowered his gaze.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"The truth would be nice."

His chest tightened.

If only she knew.

He wasn't Damien. Not really. The real Damien was dead. And somehow the man sitting across from her was merely a ghost wearing borrowed skin.

But how could he possibly explain that?

She would think he was insane. Hell, even he barely understood it himself.

"I've just been thinking lately," Elias said carefully. "About things."

"What things?"

He hesitated. Then answered honestly.

"How badly I've treated you."

Serena went still.

For the first time since he entered the room, genuine shock crossed her face completely unguarded. It disappeared quickly.

But Elias caught it.

"You've never admitted that before," she whispered.

The sadness in her voice made something twist painfully inside him.

No one should sound so surprised by basic accountability.

Elias looked at her properly then. Really looked.

And suddenly he began noticing things.

The faint shadows beneath her eyes. The careful way she kept her posture straight, as though afraid to appear weak. The subtle tension whenever he moved suddenly.

She was accustomed to disappointment. To emotional distance. To being unwanted.

A memory surfaced abruptly in Damien's mind.

Serena standing alone in a ballroom while Damien walked past her toward Celeste without even acknowledging his wife's existence.

Another memory.

Serena sitting awake in their bedroom at two in the morning while Damien stumbled home drunk.

Another.

A bouquet she had once bought him, discarded carelessly into the trash.

Elias's stomach turned.

How could someone treat another person this way?

Especially someone who clearly loved deeply.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," he murmured.

Serena stared at him quietly.

"No," she admitted softly. "You don't."

Oddly enough, Elias felt relieved hearing it.

Honest. She was honest. Not fearful. Not manipulative.

Just wounded.

And somehow that felt easier to understand.

The servants eventually cleared dinner in uncomfortable silence.

Serena stood first.

"I have an event tomorrow evening," she said formally. "You don't need to attend."

Elias frowned slightly. "Why wouldn't I?"

She looked genuinely confused now.

"Because you never do."

The answer hit harder than expected.

Of course. Damien had abandoned her publicly too.

Elias rose slowly from his chair.

"Then I'll attend tomorrow."

Her eyes narrowed immediately. "Why?"

Because husbands should support their wives. Because no one deserves standing alone while married.

Because Elias remembered too vividly how lonely Ivy used to look waiting for him at school events he couldn't attend due to work.

But he couldn't say any of that.

So instead he answered quietly,

"Because I should have before."

Serena's expression became unreadable.

For a second, Elias thought she might say something else.

Instead, she simply nodded once.

"Goodnight, Damien."

Then she walked away.

Elias watched her disappear through the doorway, feeling strangely hollow inside.

The moment she vanished, he sank back into his chair heavily.

Everything felt complicated. Too complicated.

This wasn't his life. This woman wasn't his wife.

Yet hearing her pain still affected him deeply.

Perhaps because he understood neglect too well.

Not romantic neglect. But emotional abandonment.

He remembered waiting outside factories hoping employers would pay him fairly. Remembered landlords treating him like trash.

Remembered sacrificing everything for someone who eventually erased him from her life anyway.

Maybe that was why Serena's loneliness felt familiar.

They were different people from different worlds.

Yet somehow both had spent years loving people who failed to see their worth.

"You're acting strange."

Elias looked up sharply.

A man leaned casually against the dining room entrance.

Tall. Handsome. Sharp-eyed.

Lucien Vale.

The younger twin.

Even with Damien's face, Elias could immediately tell the difference between them.

Lucien carried warmth artificially, like an actor permanently performing charm for an audience.

Dangerous eyes though. Observant ones.

Elias straightened carefully.

"I could say the same about you lurking around doorways."

Lucien smirked faintly before entering fully.

"You apologized to the staff today."

Damn. Word traveled fast here.

Lucien poured himself wine lazily before continuing.

"You also had dinner with your wife without arguing." He swirled the drink lightly. "Should I call a doctor?"

Elias forced himself calm.

"People change."

"Not overnight."

The tension between them sharpened instantly.

Lucien took a slow sip before studying him carefully.

"You know what's interesting?" he said softly. "For the first time in years, Serena looked confused instead of miserable after talking to you."

Elias said nothing.

Lucien's gaze darkened slightly.

"You spent years obsessed with Celeste. Suddenly you wake up acting like husband of the year." He tilted his head faintly. "Makes me wonder what happened to my brother."

Ice spread slowly through Elias's chest.

Did he know?

Impossible.

Yet something about Lucien's stare felt invasive.

Like he could see through skin.

Fortunately, Lucien suddenly laughed lightly, breaking the tension.

"Relax," he said. "Maybe near-death experiences really do change people."

Near death.

Right. Damien had overdosed before Elias awakened here. The public likely believed he simply survived.

Lucien walked past him toward the doorway before pausing.

"Oh, and Damien?"

Elias looked up cautiously.

"If this is another one of your games..." Lucien's voice lost all humor. "Don't drag Serena through it again."

Then he left.

The room fell silent once more.

Elias remained standing alone beneath golden lights, feeling the weight of a life that didn't belong to him pressing harder against his shoulders.

For the first time since waking up in this body, fear truly settled inside him.

Because this world was beginning to notice that Damien Vale was no longer the same man.

And eventually...

Someone would ask why.