The Billionaire and His Heiress Wife

Chapter 3

AVELYN

I excused myself quietly, pushing my chair back with a soft scrape that no one acknowledged. Not Jeremy. Not his parents. Not even Scarlett, who was too busy showing Selene the little bracelet she’d made in school.

I slipped out of the dining room like a shadow.

The moment I stepped into the hallway, the air felt different — cooler, heavier, as if the house itself knew I didn’t belong in the room I’d just left.

I walked toward the downstairs bathroom, closing the door behind me with a soft click. The lock slid into place, and only then did I let myself breathe.

My reflection stared back at me in the mirror.

The navy dress.

The simple makeup.

The soft curls I’d tried so hard to perfect.

I didn’t look like a billionaire’s wife.

Or like a woman anyone admired.

I looked like someone trying too hard to be enough.

My eyes stung.

I pressed my palms to the sink, bowing my head as a quiet sob escaped — small, strangled, the kind of sound you make when you’re trying not to fall apart.

I didn’t cry loudly.

I never did.

Growing up, crying only made my mother sigh in disappointment.

Crying made the Beaumonts look at me like I was weak.

Crying made Jeremy frown and say I was being “too emotional.”

So I learned to cry like this — silently, privately, invisibly.

A soft knock startled me.

“Avelyn?” Jeremy’s voice. Low. Irritated. “Are you alright?”

I wiped my face quickly, forcing my voice steady. “I’m fine.”

The doorknob rattled. “Can you come out? You’re making things awkward.”

Awkward.

I closed my eyes.

I unlocked the door and stepped out. Jeremy stood there, arms crossed, jaw tight. He didn’t look concerned. He looked inconvenienced.

“What was that?” he asked quietly. “Walking out in the middle of dinner?”

“I just needed a moment,” I whispered.

“You made my mother uncomfortable.”

I blinked. “Your mother insulted me.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Avelyn, she didn’t mean it like that.”

“She said Selene would be a better mother.”

“She didn’t say that.”

“She implied it.”

He didn’t deny it.

He didn’t defend me either.

He just looked tired. “Can you please not make tonight harder than it needs to be?”

Harder for who?

For him?

For his parents?

For Selene?

Because it certainly wasn’t hard for them to sit there and watch me shrink.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I wasn’t trying to make anything hard.”

“Then come back to the table,” he said, already turning away. “And try to be… presentable.”

Presentable.

The word hit harder than it should have.

I followed him back to the dining room, my steps slow, my chest tight. When we entered, the conversation didn’t pause. No one looked up. No one asked if I was okay.

I slipped into my seat.

Scarlett didn’t even glance at me. She was leaning against Selene, showing her a drawing she’d made on her napkin — a woman in a beautiful dress, long hair, perfect smile.

Selene.

Not me.

Selene brushed Scarlett’s hair back gently. “You’re so talented, sweetheart.”

Scarlett beamed.

I folded my hands in my lap, staring at the untouched food on my plate. My appetite was gone. My voice was gone. My place in this family — if I’d ever had one — felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

Violeta lifted her wine glass. “Selene, dear, you must join us more often. You bring such… elegance to the table.”

Selene smiled modestly. “I’d love to.”

Jeremy didn’t object.

Scarlett clapped her hands. “Yes! Selene should come every day!”

My heart clenched.

I looked at Jeremy.

He just kept eating.

As if nothing was wrong.

As if nothing had been said.

As if I wasn’t sitting right there, breaking quietly beside him.

I lowered my gaze to my lap, blinking back the sting in my eyes.

And in that moment — that small, devastating moment — something inside me shifted.

Just a quiet click, like a lock turning.

A realization settling into place.

I wasn’t wanted here.

Not truly.

Not by them.

Not by him.

And for the first time in seven years, I felt the faintest whisper of something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Distance.

A soft, cold distance curling around my heart.

Protecting it.

Because if no one else would protect me…

I would have to learn to protect myself.

**

The house was quiet the next morning, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel peaceful — it felt heavy, like a silence that had settled into the walls overnight.

I stood at the kitchen counter, pouring Scarlett’s cereal, my movements automatic. She sat at the table swinging her legs, humming a tune Selene had taught her. Something about princesses and perfect hair.

I used to be her princess.

Now I was… background noise.

“Mommy, can you braid my hair?” she asked suddenly.

My heart lifted — just a little. “Of course.”

She hesitated. “But… can you do it like Selene?”

The lift vanished.

“I can try,” I said softly.

She sighed, disappointed before I even touched her hair. “Never mind. I’ll just wait for her later.”

I froze.

“Selene is coming later?”

Scarlett nodded, spoon clinking against her bowl. “Daddy said she might stop by to help him with something.”

Of course she was.

I turned back to the sink, rinsing a cup that didn’t need rinsing. My hands shook just enough for me to notice. Not enough for anyone else to care.

Jeremy walked in a moment later, adjusting his tie. He didn’t look at me — not really. He glanced, the way someone glances at a clock or a chair. Something functional. Something expected to be there.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

He poured coffee, took a sip, frowned. “It’s too strong.”

“I made it the same as always.”

“Well, it tastes different.”

I didn’t respond. I didn’t apologize. I didn’t rush to fix it.

Something in me was too tired.

He checked his watch. “I’ll drop Scarlett off today.”

I nodded.

Scarlett jumped up, grabbing her backpack. “Daddy, can Selene pick me up again?”

Jeremy hesitated — just for a second — then said, “We’ll see.”

Scarlett grinned.

I felt something inside me fold in on itself.

Jeremy finally looked at me. “Are you alright? You seem… off.”