Chapter 4
952 Words
The penthouse apartment overlooks the seine, framing the city's glittering veins like a cage of light. Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of Julian's aftershave and the faint bitter edge of red wine which lays unfinished on the marble counter.
Eleanor stands in the kitchen still wearing her work clothes. She just finished having a dinner with Julian and his client. Julian's laugh echoed with stories she doesn't remember, followed by the clink of glasses masking the silence between them.
Julian enters the kitchen,his tie loosened, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his broad frame filling the doorway. His blue eyes, usually sharp in boardrooms, are glassy from the Bordeaux.
"Eleanor," he says with a low voice. He wasn't calling, he was summoning her.
She turns, forcing a smile on her face . It was polite, distant and never reached her eyes. She had already perfected the look over five years of this marriage. "Long day?" she asks as she rinse a cup in the sink.
He steps closer placing his hands on her hips from behind. He pulled her close to him. His breath fanning her neck uncomfortably.
"Not long enough. Come to bed",it was not a request but an order and he expects her to obey without making a fuss.
Her body tenses but she doesn't pull away. His touch turned sharper and his words turned colder. "Julian, I am tired. The Asia files—"
His grip tightens around her hips, fingers digging into her waist. "The files can wait. We haven't done something in days",his words came out laced with accusation, as if her exhaustion is a personal slight.
He turns her to face him, kisses her neck roughly and ignoring the way she stiffens.
She closes her eyes and lets him lead her to the bedroom. The king-sized bed looms like an obligation. He undresses her, letting her blouse slip to the floor, skirt following. there was no real intimacy between them. He only takes her whenever he feels like it.
"Please," she whispers to him to stop, but he mistakes it for encouragement His weight pins her down, hands roaming with possession. She lies still beneath him praying for it to be over soon. There was no real emotions attached.
Her hands rest limp at her sides with her eyes fixed on the celing, counting the shadows until he finishes with a grunt, collapsing beside her.
He rolls off after a moment, satisfied, muttering "Good girl" before turning away and snoring within minutes. The bed shifts with his absence, leaving her cold and exposed. She pulls the sheet up and curls onto her side. the faint feeling between her legs reminds her of her the mistake she made by marrying a man like Julian.
Another night in this loveless union, where intimacy is currency and not connection.
Eleanor tries to get some sleep but it seems sleep is far from her. She lies awake staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. How did it come to this? She traces the path in her mind like a scar she can't stop picking at.
It all started six years ago, in a Voss boardroom in London. She had just graduated and landed a job at Vosstech. She was ambitious and her MBA gleaming like a weapon.
Julian was the heir of the company. He was charming then, in his tailored suits and easy smiles. He courted her with promises of partnership and not just marriage. "We'll build an empire together," he said. His eyes locked on hers during that first gala, with his warm hands placed on the small of her back. She believed it.
She had believed the whirlwind romance. the engagement in Monaco, the wedding in the Voss chateau under Provençal sun. she had thought this relationship was gonna last.
But the cracks appeared early. It all started when the late nights with business partners became endless. The affection curdled into obligations. At dinners, he would always be on his phone either attending to a call or checking emails under the table. On vacations, he took calls from lovers she pretended not to notice.
He changed after being appointed as the new CEO. And she?, She stayed for the empire, for the title of Madame Voss that opened doors and besides that Julian won't let her get a divorce because it will ruin his reputation.
Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of times she and Julian spent together.She blinks them away, staring into the dark. The apartment feels empty, it feels like a large cage holding her down.
Julian snores on, oblivious to what his wife was feeling. his arm thrown across the pillows as if claiming territory even in sleep.
Her mind wanders, seeking escape. Tomorrow's work is about pivot project, followed by the Tokyo numbers that won't align.
And then,a face flickers: the new consultant from the corridor yesterday. Rhys Calder. The one she had bumped into at the hall. He had held her on time if not she would have lost her balance and fell. his hand steadying her arm were warm and gentle. His eyes were dark yet attentive, holding hers without demand or expectations.
"Monsieur Calder," she murmurs to the empty room, testing the name. He remembered the project details, poured coffee with quiet efficiency. He even noticed her flush and asked if she was alright. No one does that anymore, not even her husband.
The memory lingers, followed by a small warmth in the chill. She pushes the thought away, trying to maintain professional boundary but she can't.
By midnight, she was exhausted and sleep claims her but in dreams, the hand on her arm doesn't let go.
- Writer
