After The Betrayal, His Uncle Claimed Me

Enjoy My Hand-Me-Down

Chapter Two

ELISE

I arrived at my doorstop at three in the morning. I literally couldn’t tell how I had driven myself home after losing count of the number of drinks I had taken at the bar.

I leaned against the door, trying to fish the keys out of my bag but the key dropped from my hands just as I tried to insert it into the keyhole. I tried again, twice but the same thing happened.

A frustrated angry growl escaped my lips and I decided to try one last time before giving up and deciding to sleep on the porch. But I guess the universe was on my side as I succeeded and finally made my way inside.

The house was dark and empty when I entered and my heart dipped.

What was I expecting? That he would be home?

I let out a dry chuckle at my wishful thinking. The dining table was still a mess. The tablecloth and plates were half on the floor. I looked at it for a second and looked away because I couldn’t, not right now, not with my head still in the clouds.

I made my way to the living room and plopped down on the floor, with my back against the couch, still in my dress and one heel. I let out a tired sigh, trying to keep my eyes from shutting close but darkness enveloped me before I knew it.

I don’t know how much time passed before the sound of the door clicking open woke me from my slumber. I wiped the drool off my lips groggily, staring straight at the door.

The door swung open and Damien stepped in, still in his suit, bow tie loosened at the collar. He stopped the moment he saw me on the floor.

"Baby?" His voice dropped. "What are you doing down there?"

I blinked, still half in sleep, and watched him crouch in front of me. He smelled like an expensive female cologne and champagne.

"Come on." He slid an arm around me and helped me up, and I let him because my legs weren't fully cooperating. He walked me to the bedroom, sat me on the edge of the bed, and crouched again to pull off my remaining heel.

"Happy anniversary," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about tonight. The gala ran over and then there were people I couldn't get away from."

He set my shoes aside. "You know how it is."

I said nothing, only staring at him blankly.

He looked up at me, his eyes roaming my face as if searching for something. “Don’t be too hard on me El. You know I do this for us. You especially.”

I remained quiet. With a sigh, he straightened and was about to place a kiss on my lips but I turned away, causing his lips to press against the corner of my jaw instead. Then he moved to his side of the room.

He plopped down onto the bed, removed his shoes and jacket only, and then fell flat on the bed, his loud groans echoing across the room.

"Get some sleep," he murmured. "We'll do dinner tomorrow. Somewhere nice."

And within minutes his low snores filled the room.

Disgust washed through me as I stared at his sleeping figure. The thought of strangling him while he slept crossed my mind.

I shook my head, trying to rid the negative thoughts. Then slowly, I slipped to the floor, placing my head in my hands, lost in thought.

I knew I wanted a divorce, so I could get as far away as possible from him but divorcing him required financial independence that I don’t quite have. I was not worried about myself but my younger sister who was lying in the hospital.

Damien covered her chemo bills monthly which ran into eighty thousand per month. His money was what was keeping her alive on a daily basis. I couldn't walk out. Not yet. Not like this, with nothing in my name.

I picked up my phone, but as my eyes caught sight of the time I dropped it back. I couldn’t call him now, it was still quite early.

I sat in the same position with my head buried in my lap until the morning sun began peeking in through the curtain blinds.

When Damien’s alarm went off at seven, I was already in the kitchen.

He came downstairs a few minutes later, freshly showered, with his suit on, looking like the man I had fallen in love with at first sight.

“I have back to back meetings today. About to be a stressful day,” he said, smiling warmly. “Don’t wait on me for dinner, okay?”

He averted his gaze and glanced at his watch. “Oh, grandmother’s birthday dinner is tonight. Eight o’clock at the estate. Make sure to be ready by seven.”

I almost rolled my eyes at him. “I’m not feeling fine.”

He closed the distance between us, pressing his palm against my forehead. “You seem fine to me. Is this about last night?”

I remained quiet and he took my hand in his. “This isn’t about us El, it’s about grandma. The whole family will be there. I need you there too.”

“Fine,” I said gruffly.

A satisfied smile coated his face. “Wear something nice,” he said before shutting the door behind him.

I immediately picked up my phone and placed a call to the man I couldn’t earlier— Mr Harlow.

He answered on the third ring and the warmth in his voice when he heard it was me was so genuine and so unexpected that I had to press my lips together for a moment before I could speak.

"Elise Vale. I wondered when you'd find your way back to us."

"Is there still a place for me at the company?" My voice came out steadier than I felt. "I know it's been three years and I know it's sudden but—"

“Elise. You were and still are one of the most talented designers I have ever come across in my life. Of course, there’s a place for you here. When can you start?"

Relief flooded through me at his words. "Monday. If that works."

"Come in on Friday. We'll sort everything then." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"I will be," I said. "Thank you, Mr. Harlow."

I hung up with the biggest smile on my face. Now, I could take care of my sister. I then made my way into the bathroom and began carefully packing only things that were mine before he ever came into the picture. My portfolio, my mother’s jewelry, my certificate. I placed them into a bag and pushed them to the back of the wardrobe, behind the winter coats.

Just as I moved to get more items, my phone buzzed with a notification. I picked it up and opened the email from Meridian Health Center.

Dear Ms. Vale, your test results from your recent visit are now available. Please contact us to receive your report.

I'd gone in three weeks ago for a routine check. Nothing serious, just something I'd been putting off. I'd forgotten about it completely.

I called immediately and requested the electronic copy. It came through within minutes and I sat on the edge of the bed, opened it, started reading, and beads of sweat formed on my forehead.

Reproductive health assessment: All indicators within normal range. No abnormalities detected.

Normal.

I read it again. Three times. Four.

But it was the same. Normal.

Three years ago, Damien had sat beside me in a private consultation room, a specialist he had recommended. He held my hand while the doctor had told me I had primary ovarian insufficiency and that my chances of giving birth was less than three percent.

He had told me in fancy words that I was barren and doomed to a life of never being able to carry my own child.

I had been devastated. Damien held me together, stroking my hair and telling me how it didn’t matter, that his love for me would never change. He told me he married me because he loved me and not for children.

I had felt extremely grateful to him, for loving me despite my inadequacies. And I swore to always love him and stand by him no matter what.

He had chosen the hospital.

He had recommended the doctor and I had gone along with all that he suggested.

I sat on the bed, my chest heaving in pain.

He had not only cheated, but he had also deliberately lied to me. All for what?

I didn’t cry, not a single tear dropped. I was done hurting, feeling pity for myself. I closed the report, ignored all of Ivy’s messages and calls, put the phone in my back pocket, and finished packing.

At exactly six, he came home. I was in the kitchen when he walked in with a white box in his hand and a bright smile on his face.

“You look stunning baby," he said, placing the box on the counter. "Happy anniversary, El. Properly this time." He slid it toward me. "Open it."

Disgust filled me as he hurriedly placed a kiss on my neck. I shut my eyes briefly, trying to rein in the nausea that was rising in my throat.

With a tight smile, I opened my eyes and slowly opened the box. Inside was a ring, cushion cut, emerald green with a platinum band, the kind of ring that made a statement. My current ring was simple, one I had chosen myself but this… this looked like it cost more than most people’s cars.

He dropped down to one knee, took hold of my fingers, and gently slid the old one out.

“I had it commissioned four months ago," he said, watching my face. "Your old one never felt like enough for you."

“Thank you for loving me even on my worst days baby. I love you so much and will never do anything to hurt you,” he finished, gently placing a kiss on my bare finger.

With a tight smile, I nodded. “It’s beautiful.”

He smiled and then slowly slid the ring onto my finger. He rose to his feet and pulled me into a hug. Then made his way upstairs to freshen up.

In a few minutes, he was downstairs, all dressed. We headed to the car and began to make our way to the Ashford Estate with his favorite music blasting out loud.

Twenty minutes into the ride, my phone lit up with a text message from an unknown number.

My stomach turned over immediately.

I opened it and what I saw made the air leave my lungs in one silent rush.

A video. Five seconds. A woman's hand, fingers spread wide, showing off a ring to the camera. The exact same ring. Identical in every way to the one currently sitting on my finger.

Then she curled her fingers slowly and pulled it off. Held it up. And the message underneath read:

“Recognize it? I wore it for three months. He asked for it back last week, said he needed to "save costs" on your anniversary gift. Consider it a gift from me to you, Mrs Ashford. Enjoy the hand-me-down.”