ELARA’S POV“Elara, since this is your first time, I’m going to pair you up with your husband,” Rosa says with a smile.“Nate comes here often, so I hope he’ll be a good teacher in showing you how we harvest the grapes,” she adds, though her eyes are fixed on Nate instead of me.“She already knows I’m the best when it comes to teaching,” Nate says confidently, pulling me just a little too close.He leads us to the section of the vineyard where we’re supposed to work. Things were going well, even with Valentina’s death glare practically burning into my back.“That’s not how you cut it,” I say, pointing at him. “You’re going to ruin the grapes before they even make it to storage.”“I’ve done this for years, it’s not my first time,” Nate grumbles, dropping a bunch of grapes into the basket with more force than necessary.“Oh, give me that,” I mutter, frowning as I snatch the cutter from his hands.He tries to grab it back, but Mrs. Rosa’s voice interrupts us.“Is everything okay over the
ELARA’S POV Even with the stares I’m probably getting, I know better than to stop. Instead, I push myself to run even faster. I can hear Nate’s footsteps closing in behind me, each one growing louder and more determined. One thing I remember clearly from the years we were married is that Nate hates dirt. He absolutely despises getting dirty.and, the amount of sand I poured on him earlier? It wasn’t just regular sand. It was sand mixed with fertilizer. The thought makes me grin a little. But my victory is short-lived. I don’t notice the water pipe in my path until it’s too late. My foot catches it, and I lose my balance. I’m about to hit the hard, soil when I feel a strong hand grab me. It’s Nate. His eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, everything around us feels like it has stopped. The world fades into nothing but the two of us. His dark, intense eyes hold mine in place, and I can’t seem to look away. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my face. His lips are so cl
ELARA’S POV “So, when are you going to tell your husband?” Dr. Rivers asks, her tone laced with concern, but not without the familiarity of someone who knows me well enough to press for answers. “I’ll tell him soon,” I reply with a soft laugh, even though she can’t see the forced smile stretching across my face. Four days ago, I found out I was six weeks pregnant, and it still feels surreal. Nate and I have been trying for almost a year. After every negative test, I tried not to lose hope, but disappointment clung to me like a shadow. When my period was late this time, I didn’t let myself get excited. I went to the clinic for confirmation, too afraid to believe the two faint lines on the home test. And then Dr. Rivers confirmed it. I’m pregnant. A little flutter stirs in my chest just thinking about it. I’ve imagined this moment so many times, telling Nate, seeing his face light up, the overwhelming joy of knowing we finally made it. But my joy comes with an undercurrent
ELARA'S POV "Don’t joke like that," I chuckle, trying to brush it off, giving him a light shove. Nate isn’t usually one for jokes, but every now and then, he surprises me. I wait for that familiar glint of mischief to break the tension, the hint that he's teasing me. But… it isn’t there. He looks at me, his eyes flat and unyielding. "I’m not joking, Elara. I want a divorce." The words are a sucker punch. My chest tightens as I stumble back a step, the brown envelope I’ve been holding slipping from my grasp. I tighten my grip on it instinctively, clinging to it like it’s the last piece of reality keeping me grounded. A divorce? Why? My head spins, trying to process his words, to find sense in them. Yes, we’d been distant lately, but it was nothing serious. We still shared our bed, ate our meals together, and spent time in each other’s arms… he even kissed me on the forehead this morning before he left for work. “If this isn’t a joke, then why, Nate?” I whisper, barely rec
ELARA’S POV Something is wrong. Something is definitely wrong. I still can’t quite process what Nate just did. My mind feels like a spinning wheel, unable to settle. A tear slips down my cheek, but I make no effort to wipe it away. I’m too focused on dragging my small suitcase, which seems to grow heavier with each passing step. I clutch the handle tightly, letting the numbness in my chest dull the sting of my shock. The walk from our house I mean Nate’s house, to the nearest bus stop is only ten minutes, but tonight it feels endless. I tried calling for a cab, but none were available. The city that never sleeps, yet somehow, all the drivers are busy. When I finally reach the bus stop, I sink onto a cold metal bench, exhausted. I wrap my arms around myself and stare at the darkened street, feeling the weight of the situation hit me. For the first time, I realize I have nowhere to go. Sure, I have places—my mom’s and Elliot’s, but neither feels like an option. Not tonight.
ELARA’S POV The sound of my phone buzzing jolts me awake with a groan. With my eyes still closed, I stretch my hand, fishing around for my phone on the floor. Just when my fingers brush against it, I lose my balance and tumble off the couch with a thud. “Shit,” I mutter, opening my eyes. I really should’ve gotten a futon for the office. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t be falling on my face right now. After practically living here for the past three days, a proper couch would’ve come in handy. I spot my phone in the corner and crawl over to grab it. I don’t know how it isn’t dead yet or how it even ended up there. “Hello?” I mumble into the phone, barely awake. “Hello, am I speaking to Mrs. Elara Westwood?” a voice asks, formal but a little rushed. “Yes, this is she,” I reply, sitting up. “Thank God,” the woman murmurs under her breath, footsteps sounding faintly in the background as if she’s hurrying somewhere. “My boss wants to speak with you.” “Hello, darling,” a new
ELARA’S POV “Wonderful! I have dresses in the back you ladies can change into,” Mrs. Chelsea beams.Jenna pulls me aside, whispering, “More connections mean more jobs, and more jobs mean more money. Plus, I bet they’ll serve us some expensive wine and delicious snacks”I chuckle, rolling my eyes. “Fine, whatever.”We walk into the room, where she has an entire rack of elegant evening gowns ready.Jenna doesn’t hesitate. She’s already looking through the dresses, holding up a deep blue one against herself.“Try this,” she says, tossing me a sleek beige gown. I hold it up, admiring the simple yet beautiful design. With a sigh, I change into the dress, touch up my makeup, and glance in the mirror. Jenna gives me a thumbs up, and we rejoin the event, blending into the crowd of socialites all dressed to impress.Mrs. Chelsea finds me quickly, her arm linking with mine as she introduces me to several guests. Making sure to tell them how much of a lifesaver I am. I do my best to keep up,
ELARA’S POVI can feel eyes on me as I stroll toward Nate, fighting the urge to turn back and just leave.“Hello, Nate,” I say with a smile when I reach him.He doesn’t respond. His scowl deepens, and he acts as if I don’t exist.He tries to walk away, but I step in his path.“What the hell do you want, Elara?” His voice cuts sharp and cold.“I need to speak with you,” I say, glancing at the curious eyes watching us, which makes me shift uncomfortably. “In private,” I add, keeping my tone low so only he can hear.He scoffs, loud enough for those nearby to catch. “About what? I thought we said everything that needed to be said when you signed the divorce papers.”The room erupts in whispers.I feel like the biggest fool on the planet.“I don’t want to see or hear from you ever again, and whatever it is you have to say, I’m not interested.”He downs his drink in one gulp, placing the empty glass on a passing server’s tray.“Nate,” I try again, but he’s already walking away.With another
ELARA’S POV Even with the stares I’m probably getting, I know better than to stop. Instead, I push myself to run even faster. I can hear Nate’s footsteps closing in behind me, each one growing louder and more determined. One thing I remember clearly from the years we were married is that Nate hates dirt. He absolutely despises getting dirty.and, the amount of sand I poured on him earlier? It wasn’t just regular sand. It was sand mixed with fertilizer. The thought makes me grin a little. But my victory is short-lived. I don’t notice the water pipe in my path until it’s too late. My foot catches it, and I lose my balance. I’m about to hit the hard, soil when I feel a strong hand grab me. It’s Nate. His eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, everything around us feels like it has stopped. The world fades into nothing but the two of us. His dark, intense eyes hold mine in place, and I can’t seem to look away. I can feel the warmth of his breath against my face. His lips are so cl
ELARA’S POV“Elara, since this is your first time, I’m going to pair you up with your husband,” Rosa says with a smile.“Nate comes here often, so I hope he’ll be a good teacher in showing you how we harvest the grapes,” she adds, though her eyes are fixed on Nate instead of me.“She already knows I’m the best when it comes to teaching,” Nate says confidently, pulling me just a little too close.He leads us to the section of the vineyard where we’re supposed to work. Things were going well, even with Valentina’s death glare practically burning into my back.“That’s not how you cut it,” I say, pointing at him. “You’re going to ruin the grapes before they even make it to storage.”“I’ve done this for years, it’s not my first time,” Nate grumbles, dropping a bunch of grapes into the basket with more force than necessary.“Oh, give me that,” I mutter, frowning as I snatch the cutter from his hands.He tries to grab it back, but Mrs. Rosa’s voice interrupts us.“Is everything okay over the
NATE'S POVAfter breakfast, we all headed out to the gardens for one of the Bellini family’s traditions: harvesting grapes from their vineyard. It’s something they do every year with their workers, and they even plant new vines afterwards. It’s a lovely tradition, really if you’re into that sort of thing.Me? Not so much.I’ve been dragged into this ritual ever since I was a kid visiting the Bellinis with my grandfather. Back then, I tried to get out of it by feigning illness or “accidentally” oversleeping. Of course, none of it worked. And now, as an adult, I’m still here, stuck doing something I’ve never liked.My eyes wander across the fields as everyone gets to work. Each person is decked out in their harvesting gear, carrying baskets as they move between the vines. I can’t help but admire how picturesque it all looks, with the sunlight streaming through the grape leaves.But then, my attention snaps to something or rather, someone i can’t ignore.It’s Elara.And Valentina.Talki
NATE’S POVI can’t believe what I’m hearing right now.Other people’s man? What is that supposed to mean?I don’t recall telling her anything about dating anyone, though to be fair, we haven’t had much time to discuss such things.But I thought she, of all people, would know that I’m not in a relationship.With all the time we’ve spent together in the past, I figured it would be obvious to her.Does she think I have someone else in my life? The urge to clear up this misunderstanding rises, but I suppress it.Instead, I simply lie back in bed beside her.“There can only be one of us on this bed, and it certainly isn’t you, Nate,” she hisses, yanking the covers away and exposing my body to the cool air in the room. “Get off. Go back to wherever it is you slept last night.”I bite back the smile that almost forms on my face. “This is where I slept last night,” I point out, my voice calm and steady.“Liar,” she mutters under her breath, her tone dripping with distrust.“What do I gain by
ELARA'S POV “What’s this, Elara?” Nate asks, his eyes narrowing as he reads the label on the container.Before he can finish, I snatch it away and shove it behind me.“It’s none of your business,” I snap, hoping he hasn’t seen enough to start asking questions.My heart pounds in my chest. Bringing the pills here was a mistake. If Nate sees them, he’ll ask questions I’m not ready to answer. Questions I’ll never be ready to answer.but going a long time without taking them will do more harm to me. I don’t want to explain that I’m sick. That I need to take these pills for a few years, maybe longer until the wounds in my stomach heal. After the miscarriage, the internal damage left me in pain, and my developed anxiety hasn’t loosened its grip since.But telling him now? What would it change? Years ago, when I begged him to listen, to care about me and the child I carried, he turned his back. That child is gone now, and so is any reason to tell him. There’s no good in opening up old woun
ELARA’S POV“You know, old man, if you want her to check out another portrait for you, you need to pay up,” Arturo says, handing me a glass of wine.I take it but don’t drink, just swirling it around in the glass.“I don’t mind doing it for free,” I say with a smile. “I do this kind of thing all the time, and clients don’t pay me for it.”“But here’s the thing, those are clients, and he’s not,” Arturo replies, raising an eyebrow at me.“He doesn’t have to be a client for me to help out,” I say, laughing a little.“Not everyone’s focused on money, Arturo,” Mr. Bellini adds with a smirk, making both of us chuckle.The banter between them is funny to watch. It’s not something you’d expect between most fathers-in-law and sons-in-law. Mr Bellini told me that Flavia and Arturo are engaged, which makes sense now.As we laugh, my gaze drifts. From where I’m sitting in the foyer, I notice two figures standing a little ways off.It’s Nate and, of course, Valentina.His back is to me, so I can’t
ELARA’S POVI glanced at the shopping bags again, my brow furrowing. Maybe the staff mixed my things with someone else’s.I’ll check them later.For now, I grabbed my phone from the dresser. This time, it was fully charged.The flood of texts and missed calls made me hesitate. What else should I expect when I hadn’t touched my phone since yesterday?I skimmed through the messages. There were a few from Mom.MOM: What kind of meeting is on a Friday afternoon? You left all your stuff behind!MOM: This has to be a joke, Elara.I rolled my eyes, smiling at her usual tone.There were more from this morning.MOM: When you’re done in Jersey, come back and get your luggage. It’s crowding my house.That one made me laugh.MOM: Even though you were in a hurry, I hope you didn’t forget your pills.Pills… oh, no.I bolted to my bag and let out a sigh of relief. I had them, but I hadn’t taken a single dose since arriving at the villa. I was supposed to take them twice a day, but my phone reminders
ELARA’S POV“What are you trying to say, Mrs. Bellini?” I asked, chuckling nervously. I hoped she’d clarify what she meant because her words left me uneasy.“Oh, you silly girl,” she said with a warm laugh. “I know everything.”Her words sent another knot twisting in my stomach. Everything? My mind went blank. What exactly did she know?“Martino told me about you and Nate how you had a little separation but are now back together . I know it might feel uncomfortable with Valentina here, but I can assure you, Nate only has eyes for you.”“He does?” I mumbled. That was all I could manage to say. I didn’t understand where this conversation was heading, but I’m not surprised.“You two seem so lovely together,” she continued with a fond smile as we walk further. “I’ve known Nate since he was just a boy. During the time you were apart, he never said much when he stopped by, but I could see it in his eyes, he was a mess.”He didn’t seem like a mess to me in those weekly magazines and blogs he
ELARA’S POVValentina.The name hits me like a ton of bricks.Could she really be the same Valentina they were talking about at the mall?I glance at Nate, who suddenly looks a little tense. His shoulders stiffen ever so slightly as Farrah practically gushes over the new arrival.“Hello, Nate,” Valentina says, her voice smooth and saccharine, a smile dripping with seductive charm plastered across her face.It doesn’t take a genius to figure out her intentions. The way she tilts her head just so, her piercing green eyes lingering on him a moment too long—it’s painfully obvious. She’s up to something.“Valentina,” Nate replies, his voice even and steady, but there’s a chill to it. No warmth, no enthusiasm.I try to read his expression, to find some hint of how he feels about her presence. But his face remains frustratingly neutral, as though this is just another mundane encounter.He ushers me and the others to our seats around the table, his behavior cool and collected.As brunch begin