Chapter Seven

Aaron didn’t stay long.

After a brief, unreadable glance between him and Maya, he gave a short nod to Elara and walked past them without a word.

Typical.

Maya watched him disappear down the hallway before turning slowly back to Elara.

“…I don’t like him.”

Elara sighed softly.

“Maya—”

“No,” Maya cut in, dropping back onto the couch. “I’m serious. That man has the emotional range of a wall.”

Elara couldn’t help it—she laughed.

“Be nice.”

“I am being nice,” Maya replied dryly. “If I weren’t, I’d have said worse.”

Elara shook her head, but the smile lingered.

Maya leaned forward suddenly.

“Get up.”

Elara blinked.

“What?”

“Get. Up.”

“Maya, what are you—”

“We’re going out.”

Elara froze.

“…No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” Elara repeated more firmly. “I already tried that. It didn’t go well.”

Maya waved her off.

“I saw the pictures.”

“Exactly.”

“And?” Maya challenged.

Elara stared at her.

“And it was humiliating.”

Maya leaned back, studying her carefully.

“Was it humiliating,” she asked slowly, “or were people just being loud about their opinions?”

Elara hesitated.

“That’s not the same thing,” Maya continued.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Elara looked down at her hands.

“It doesn’t feel that way.”

Maya softened slightly, but her tone stayed firm.

“That’s because you’ve spent years letting other people define how you should feel about yourself.”

Elara didn’t respond.

Maya stood up again.

“Go change.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“That’s exactly why we’re going.”

Elara shook her head.

“Maya, please…”

But Maya didn’t back down.

“You don’t get to hide in this giant mansion because people on the internet don’t know how to behave.”

Elara swallowed.

“You don’t get to shrink yourself to make other people comfortable.”

The words hit harder than Elara expected.

Maya walked closer.

“Look at me.”

Elara slowly lifted her gaze.

“You are not the problem,” Maya said firmly.

“Your body is not the problem.”

Elara’s chest tightened slightly.

“People are going to stare whether you hide or not,” Maya continued.

“So you might as well live your life while they do.”

Silence filled the space between them.

Then Maya’s tone softened just a little.

“Come on,” she said. “One hour. If it’s terrible, we leave.”

Elara hesitated.

Everything in her wanted to say no.

But another part of her…

A quieter part……was tired of feeling small.

“…One hour,” she said finally.

Maya grinned.

“Perfect.”

⸻

An hour later, they stepped out of the car.

Not into a luxury boutique this time.

But into a lively café district.

Music played softly from nearby speakers, people laughed over drinks, and the atmosphere felt… normal.

Less suffocating.

Maya chose the place intentionally.

“See?” she said casually. “Not everything has to be dramatic and expensive.”

Elara looked around.

It felt easier to breathe here.

They found a table outside.

Ordered drinks.

For a few minutes, everything was fine.

Normal.

Then it started.

A group at the next table whispered.

A glance.

A second look.

Recognition.

“That’s her.”

Elara felt it immediately.

Her shoulders tensed.

Maya noticed.

“Don’t,” she said quietly.

Elara blinked.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t shrink.”

Elara hadn’t even realized she was doing it.

Pulling her arms closer.

Lowering her head slightly.

Trying to take up less space.

Maya leaned forward.

“Sit up.”

Elara hesitated.

“Maya—”

“Sit. Up.”

Slowly, Elara straightened.

It felt… unnatural.

But also strangely powerful.

The whispers continued.

“Isn’t that the Blackwood wife?”

“She looks different from the photos.”

“Not really.”

A quiet laugh.

Elara’s fingers tightened slightly around her glass.

Maya turned her head.

And looked directly at the group.

Not aggressively.

Just… directly.

Confidently.

The whispers stopped almost instantly.

One of them looked away.

Another pretended to check their phone.

Maya turned back calmly.

“See?”

Elara blinked.

“They’re not gods,” Maya said. “They’re just people with opinions.”

Elara let out a slow breath.

For the first time…

She didn’t immediately look away.

⸻

Across the street, a black car had been idling for several minutes.

Inside, Aaron sat in the back seat, reviewing documents on his tablet.

His driver spoke suddenly.

“Sir… isn’t that Mrs. Blackwood?”

Aaron glanced up.

His gaze followed the direction the driver indicated.

And there she was.

Elara.

Sitting outside a café.

With someone.

Laughing lightly.

Relaxed.

Aaron frowned slightly.

It was… different.

This is the version of her.

Not quiet and withdrawn.

Not shrinking into herself.

He watched as she straightened her posture.

As she met someone’s gaze instead of avoiding it.

As she stayed.

Didn’t leave.

Interesting.

His phone buzzed.

Another business call.

Aaron looked at the screen.

Then back at Elara.

For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed his expression.

Then he looked away.

“Drive,” he said.

The car pulled off.

And just like that—

Aaron Blackwood left.

Still untouched.

Still unmoved.

But for the first time…

He had noticed something.

⸻

Back at the café, Elara didn’t realize she had been seen.

She just sat there.

Talking.

Breathing.

Existing.

Without apologizing for it.

And for the first time since the wedding…

She didn’t feel completely out of place in the world.