After dinner, as people started to leave, I approached my professor and took my notebooks out of my bag. “Professor,” I said, my
voice steady, “I want to start again.”
He was surprised. He took my notebooks and spent a long time flipping through them, his expression serious. When he finally
looked up, his face was beaming. “Elara, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you. These notes… your ideas are incredibly prescient. Let me
think on it tonight. I’ll recommend a few good research institutions for you to interview with.”
Just then, Alistair spoke up. “May I see them?” It was the first time he had spoken to me all night.
I nodded and handed him the notebooks.
Alistair adjusted his gold–rimmed glasses, his expression unreadable. After a few minutes, he looked up. “Are you interested in
working for me?”
I blinked, confused.
My professor explained. “Oh, that’s right! Alistair is back to start his own research institute. My memory is terrible! Elara, you should
Just go work with him. I’ll be dropping by from time to time anyway.”
My eyes widened in shock, then I felt a wave of insecurity. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a real lab,” I said. “Am I… am I
qualified?”
Alistair nodded, his voice cool but imbued with a reassuring strength. “I’ve seen your notes. Your logic is sound. You can join us, but
there will be a probationary period.”
A wave of joy, so immense it was almost overwhelming, washed over me. “Don’t worry,” I promised. “I’ll work harder than anyone!”
I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw the corner of Alistair’s mouth twitch into a faint smile.
As we were leaving the private room, I looked up and saw the last person on earth I wanted to see. George and a few of his friends
were coming out of the room next door, clearly heading to another bar. The same young girl from the wedding was at his side.
“Elara?”
It was George’s childhood friend, Chris, who spotted me first. It had been his cousin’s wedding we’d attended. He looked relieved to
see me.
“Elara, perfect timing. George’s had too much to drink. Can you take him home?”
George was flushed, leaning lazily against the young woman, a silent confirmation.
I just raised an eyebrow and refused. “Didn’t George tell you? We broke up.”
George had a strange habit. He loved the thrill, the ambiguity. He would get blackout drunk at every gathering. But there was one
rule: no matter how drunk he was, no matter how beautiful the woman at his side, he would only ever have me come pick him up.
How many nights had I been woken from a dead sleep by his call, only to go to some loud bar and pull him off another woman’s lap? How many times had I peeled off his smoke–and–liquor–soaked clothes and put him to bed? How many times had I faced the mocking stares of strangers while calmly dismissing the women he was with?
Before, it was my duty as his wife.
Now, I just arched an eyebrow and politely asked them to let me pass.
Chris’s expression froze. “Did you and George have a fight?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. I’m just tired of it all.”
I don’t know if it was the word “fight” or “tired” that set him off, but George suddenly shoved the woman supporting him away, his
eyes blazing with fury
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“Elara! Are you done with this tantrum yet?” he roared. “If you’re unhappy about something, just tell me! I’ll change, okay?”
It was the first time George had ever backed down. Chris’s jaw dropped.
But I felt nothing.
I politely asked him to move and tried to leave. George grabbed my arm.
“Elara. Come home with me.”
Before I could answer, a hand reached out from behind me and calmly pried George’s fingers from my arm.
“Sir, I suggest you compose yourself,” a cool voice said.
It was Alistair. He was holding my coat.
“Who the hell are you?” George’s eyes went bloodshot, and he looked ready to swing.
sighed and stepped between them. “Don’t make a scene.”
My quiet words were like a kill switch. George froze, staring at me in disbelief. “Elara, you’re defending him? Who is he?”
I met his bloodshot gaze directly. “Does it matter, George? We’re over.”
His lips moved, as if to say something more, but I didn’t want to hear it. I gave Chris a small, polite smile and pushed past him. As l walked out of the hotel, I could feel George’s furious, frustrated gaze burning into my back.
“Thank you, for that,” I said to Alistair as we walked side–by–side.
He just grunted. “Is that George Cannon?” he asked. “You have terrible taste.”
His bluntness made me laugh out loud. If he knew I used to have a crush on him, I wonder if he’d regret saying that. The thought
slipped out before I could stop it.
“Alistair, if I told you I used to like you, would you still think my taste is so bad?”
“Yes,” he said without missing a beat. “The Alistair of the past wasn’t worthy of your affection.” He stopped walking.
I paused, looking at him curiously, but he had turned his head away.
“The Alistair of the past was too much of a coward,” he said quietly. “And he missed out on a lot because of it.”
I didn’t understand what he meant, and I was about to ask when he changed the subject. “I’ll text you the time and address for the
interview. Make sure you’re prepared.”
My attention was immediately diverted. I thanked him sincerely.
Everything, it seemed, was finally looking up.
The next day, I slept until I woke up naturally. After a simple breakfast, I sat at my desk, organizing my materials for the interview.
A sudden knock on the door interrupted me.
I opened it to find George. And Leo.
‘Mommy,”
Leo’s eyes were red–rimmed when he saw me,
I frowned, not understanding what George was trying to do. “How did you find me here?”
George blocked the hallway, his expression cold. “I came to see what a wonderful life you could possibly have without me.”
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Chapter 2
I rolled my eyes and tried to shut the door, but he was too fast, sticking his foot in the jamb.
“What do you want, George?” I asked, rubbing my temples in irritation.
His face darkened. “If Leo didn’t want to see you, do you think I would ever come to a dump like this? Elara, did I not give you enou-
gh money?”
George was human garbage, but as the son of a powerful family, he was generous. No matter how badly he’d treated me, he had never been stingy with money. Even after we split, I had assets worth millions. Thinking of the money, my expression softened
slightly.
“Come in,” I said.
George looked a little more pleased. My tiny apartment, cluttered with books, seemed even smaller with him in it. He sat down reluctantly on the small sofa, looking deeply uncomfortable. This was probably the most undignified place he’d been in his entire
thirty–something years.
He picked up a
1
book from the table and froze. “I thought… you’d lost interest in all this.”
I took a bottle of milk from the fridge, warmed it, and handed it to Leo. “Alright, you’ve seen me. If there’s nothing else, you should
take Leo home.”
Leo clutched the milk, looking uncertainly at his father.
George pulled Leo onto his lap, his voice softening. “Elara, can’t we really go back to how things were?”
“How things were?” I leaned back against the sofa, my posture languid. “You mean, me continuing to be your wife in name only? No
thanks. I’m bored of that.”
Leo seemed to understand the gravity of our conversation. “Mommy, I’m sorry. Please come home with Daddy.”
Seeing the careful, anxious look on his face, I reached out and stroked his hair. “You did nothing wrong, sweetie. It’s Mommy’s fault. I didn’t know how to fight back before. It’s normal that you’re not close to me, since you grew up with your grandmother. The probl-
ems between adults should never have involved you.”
When I first heard Leo say he didn’t like me, I had been angry. I had even hated him for a moment. But slowly, I came to understand. He was just a five–year–old child. He didn’t know right from wrong. He was only repeating what the adults around him had taught him. If I had raised him, and he still didn’t love me, then I could hate him. But that wasn’t the case. In the end, I was the one who owed him. If I had been braver, if I had fought his grandmother’s decision, Leo could have had a normal childhood, with a mother’s
constant presence and love.
George left with Leo. As he was walking out the door, he said, “You know, Elara… sometimes I feel like you never loved me at all.”
For a long time after that, George didn’t bother me. He would, however, have Leo video call me every few days. And while I was talking to my son, George would inevitably pop into the frame, sharing some random detail about his life. I, of course, had no inter-
est in hearing it.
My interview was a success, and I officially joined Alistair’s research institute. Life in the lab was demanding but fulfilling. With my professor’s occasional visits, I found I was even happier than I had been in college. Sometimes, after a long night of work, Alistair would invite me out for a late dinner. It happened so often that people in our lab started teasing us, saying we made a good couple. Every time they did, I would get embarrassed and change the subject, afraid Alistair would hear. Alistair himself never reacted, as if he found it all boring, or perhaps, as if he tacitly agreed.
Life flowed on like a quiet river.
Three years later, our research yielded a major breakthrough. At the press conference, I stood at the podium, representing our institute, with a more mature, more confident Alistair seated beside me.
Chapter 2
In the audience, George sat with Leo, who was now in elementary school.
The flashing lights of the cameras were blinding. I couldn’t see anything clearly.
The only thing I could see was myself.
At thirty–three years old, Elara Shaw had a brand new life.
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