Chapter 59
As I arrived back at the house, I noticed Aurora's car parked in the open garage. I sighed, turned off the ignition, unbuckled my seatbelt, and stepped out of the car.
Inside, a few of our housekeepers greeted me. "Is Aurora here?" I asked, glancing down the hallway.
"Yes, Madame. Ms. Aurora has been locked in her study ever since she arrived," one of them replied.
I raised a brow and checked my wristwatch. "She hasn't had dinner yet?"
"No, Ma'am."
A quiet sigh escaped me as I rubbed the corner of my brow. "Alright, please prepare our dinner," I said, before heading toward the bedroom hallway.
In our room, I set my bag on the rack and changed into a fresh set of clothes. Then I made my way to the dining hall.
Pulling out a chair, I sank down and stared at the food laid out on the table.
I sighed, serving myself a small portion.
I was in the middle of dishing up when Aurora appeared.
She stopped at the edge of the dining hallway, our eyes meeting in silent tension—then she looked away and headed straight for the kitchen.
"Is she seriously ignoring me right now?" I muttered under my breath, stabbing an asparagus with my fork and slicing it in half.
A few minutes later, Aurora returned, holding a bottle of water. She didn't so much as glance at me as she walked past the dining area.
"Dine with me, Aurora," I called out, glaring at her back. The hell is her problem? Should I really keep second-guessing what I did wrong? If she's jealous, she can just say it.
Aurora stopped but didn't turn around. "Bring my dinner to the study," she ordered a nearby housekeeper.
"Yes, Ms. Aurora—"
"She's not eating in her study," I cut in sharply, pushing my chair back as I stood and crossed my arms. My glare followed her every move.
She finally turned to face me. "I already told them. I'll eat in the study."
My jaw tightened. She's definitely doing this on purpose.
"No," I shot back, pointing at the floor. "Here. Not the study. Here."
Aurora held my gaze, her expression unreadable.
"Do you need me to spell it out, Aurora?" I pressed.
For a moment, I thought she'd stand her ground—and if she had, I wouldn't have hesitated to drag her to the table myself. But instead, she let out a soft sigh and walked toward me. She pulled out a chair across from mine and sat down.
We sat down, and I'd expected her to stop acting like this, but she was really pissing me off. It was as if my entire existence was a joke to her.
"Move all my things from the master bedroom to the guest room," she said flatly. "The one in the far corner."
"Yes, Ma'am," the housekeeper replied with a small bow and turned to leave.
"You're not moving any of Aurora's things out of the master bedroom," I interjected, taking a deliberate bite of asparagus.
Aurora scoffed, but I focused on slicing my meat. "What's wrong with me moving to another room? The things are mine, not yours," she said, her voice calm but cutting. She looked toward the housekeeper again. "Please proceed with moving my things."
My patience snapped. I slammed my hand on the table, the sound echoing across the room and making the housekeeper flinch. "Didn't you hear me the first time? Not a single thing leaves the master bedroom. Am I clear?"
Aurora didn't flinch. She turned to the staff instead. "Leave us," she ordered, waving her hand dismissively. Once they were gone, she simply continued eating, ignoring me entirely.
"What's wrong with you?" I demanded. I couldn't recall any argument between us, and I didn't understand why she was acting like this.
She didn't answer. Just shrugged, finished her meal, twisted open her bottle of water, and took a sip. Then, without a word, she stood, gathered her utensils, and walked out—leaving me sitting there alone.
Fine, Aurora, I thought bitterly. You're really pressing my limits tonight.
When I finished eating, I cleaned up with the help of a few housekeepers, thanked them, and excused myself. Heading back to the master bedroom, I stopped short when I found it empty.
"Is she in her study room? Or is she really going to sleep in that guest room?" I muttered under my breath, shutting the door.
My gaze fell on my phone. I picked it up and typed out a message: Come to the master bedroom. Now.
I set the phone on the nightstand and went about my nightly routine. By the time I stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a silk nightgown and robe, Aurora was already inside the bedroom.
Our eyes met briefly before she looked away.
"What the hell is your problem, Aurora?
You've been acting strange all evening," I said, stepping closer.
I cupped her cheeks gently, forcing her to meet my gaze.
"And why didn't you tell me you were coming back?
You should've let me pick you up. When did you even arrive? "
I thought maybe if I softened a little—showed her warmth—it would ease whatever was eating at her. But instead, she swatted my hand away, her touch sharp and dismissive.
I blinked at my hand, lowering it slowly as I scoffed. "What's with this attitude?" I asked, trying to rein in my temper.
Her voice came cold and steady. "Why did you do it?"
My brows furrowed.
"Do what?" I asked, genuinely confused. Was this about Mr. Silva?
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to avoid another fight.
When I opened my eyes again, I looked at her.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Mr. Silva, alright?
I even messaged you—asked if you could join the meeting online, and you said you couldn't. I was planning to—"
Before I could finish, she suddenly yanked my arm, hard enough to make me stumble. My eyes widened. What the hell?
Her grip was tight, her eyes cold and accusing. "Why, Sol? Why would you do it—right here, in this room?"
I stared at her, completely lost. "What the hell are you talking about?"
She wouldn't just say it, forcing me to guess, and my patience was wearing thin.
"Who is it, Sol?" she pressed, shaking me. Her voice broke, her eyes rimmed red with unshed tears. Her face was flushed, trembling with anger. "Who fucked you last night? Who was it? Was it Mr. Silva himself?" she shouted.
I blinked, stunned. What? Heat crawled up my neck as the realization hit me. Did she hear me last night? I hadn't been with anyone—I'd been alone. I'd been thinking of her. My throat tightened, and humiliation rooted me to the spot.
"Why would you bed someone else—to fuck you in our home, in our bed?
This is my room too. So why?" Her words cut deep, sharp with accusation.
"Why would you let another man touch you when I'm here?
When I could—" Her voice broke into something raw and feral, and something in me snapped.
I tore my arms from her grip and, before I could stop myself, I slapped her hard across the cheek.
The sound cracked through the room, sharp and heavy beneath the steady hum of the air conditioner.
My chest rose and fell fast. I struck her again with the back of my hand—harder this time.
A thin line of blood appeared where my wedding ring caught her skin.
Even I couldn't believe what I'd just done. Did she really think I would betray her like that? Was that how low she thought of me?
"Is that how low you think of me now?
" I rasped, my throat raw. I wanted to scream, to keep hitting her until she understood, but the sight of her blood froze me in place.
Guilt crawled in, cold and merciless. "What is this, Aurora?
I bring you investors, and you treat me like garbage?
After everything, you reduce me to that? " I shoved her back, and she stumbled.
"You—" I jabbed a finger at her chest. "You come back from Switzerland, and the first thing you give me is accusations?"
"That wasn't an accusation!" she shouted back, her voice cracking. "I was here last night. The door was open. Do you know what I heard when I came to surprise you? You—moaning, begging someone to fuck you harder."
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. I wanted to tell her the truth—that it was her I had been thinking of—but no words would form. I wasn't with someone else. I was alone.
My hand trembled. The sting on my palm felt like punishment. She looked at me, betrayal and disbelief tangled in her eyes, and for a second, I didn't recognize the person standing there. Neither of us spoke. The silence between us was heavier than the slap itself.
She grabbed my arms again, dragging me closer until I could feel her breath against my skin. "Am I not enough, Sol? Is my body not enough? I have what any man does—I can give you the same, more, if you'd let me! So what else do you need?!"
I hitched my breath when tears began to fall from her eyes.
I bit the inside of my cheek, unable to look away.
Aurora's grip on me started to falter. "Do you know what it feels like to hear you getting railed by someone else?
" she said, her voice trembling. "You're my wife.
We're married. And I understand..." Her words cracked, her hands dropping to her sides as she lowered her head.
"I understand that maybe all you ever wanted from me was revenge for what I did twelve years ago.
And fine, I get it. But was cheating part of that revenge, Sol? "
My lips parted, but no words came out. I didn't cheat. I wasn't cheating.
Aurora lifted her gaze to me, tears mingling with the thin line of blood on her cheek, though she didn't seem to care. And I just stood there—stunned—watching the woman I loved bleed, cry, and crumble because she thought I was with someone else.
"Who is he, Sol?" she continued, her voice breaking. "Someone you know? Someone I know?" Her chest heaved. "Wasn't it enough that I agreed to all your terms? That I signed everything without question? So why—why would your revenge include this?"
It felt like a blade driving straight through my chest, again and again.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Aurora pressed a trembling hand against her chest. "It hurts here, Sol.
Because even knowing you wanted to punish me, I was still hoping.
.. still hoping we could try again. That I could fix what I broke. So why?"
?·???°???°???·?
My body went rigid at the sight of Aurora crying in front of me. I wanted to tell her I wasn't with someone else, but the words refused to come out. The sight of her—shaking, breaking—left me paralyzed. I couldn't process anything.
"I didn't," I finally managed, stepping closer to her.
"Why are you acting like I'm the one who hurt you, when it was you, Ro?
You used me for four years. You're the one who walked away in the rain.
You're the one who—" I swallowed a lump, realizing the weight of every word that escaped my lips.
A bitter laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
"Wasn't it enough that you left me twelve years ago? Wasn't it enough that you ruined me back then? And now you want to ruin me again with your words?" My voice broke. "Are you really this heartless?"
She could've just asked me if I was cheating. She didn't need to throw every word that could make me hate myself more.
"That was twelve years ago!" she shouted back, her voice cracking.
"You're right!" I yelled. "It was twelve years ago—but the pain you carved into me? It's still here!" I pointed at my chest, tears spilling freely.
It was the first time I let her see the pain I'd carried since the day she left me—out in the rain, broken, and pregnant with the heir she never knew about.
"You're hurt? Good!" I shouted through my sobs.
"Feel it! Feel the same pain I've been living with since you walked away after wasting four years of my life!
" I pounded her chest with my fists, the blows weak and uneven as my body trembled from crying.
I couldn't believe her.
I was her wife—whether she loved me or not, she had no right to tear me apart like this, accusing me of being with someone else.
"You ruined me when I gave up everything for you.
You abandoned me when I was ready to stay—ready to grow old with you!
" My fists fell limp against her chest. "And now you dare to stand here acting like you're the victim? "
"I'm not acting like a victim!" she shouted back, her voice raw. "Sol, do you even hear yourself? You cheated! You're my wife, and you let another man—" She stopped when I froze mid-swing, staring at her through blurred tears.
"Tell me," Aurora hissed, yanking me closer by the hair. I winced at her grip. "How good was he? Did he make you cum? How long has it been going on?"
My tears stopped instantly. The words cut deeper than any slap could. I didn't know what hurt more—the way she'd left me all those years ago, or hearing her now, certain that I'd betrayed her.
A hollow smile spread across my lips, followed by a broken laugh. "Is that all I am to you? Just a body to compare against another man's? My worth as your wife reduced to this?" I shoved her away with what little strength I had left.
"If you wanted the truth, Ro, you could've asked me directly. But no—you humiliated me in front of the board. You cut me down before strangers. And now you stand here demanding answers you don't even want to hear."
"What for?" she spat, glaring at me. "So you could spin excuses? Twist the story?" She turned her back on me, walking toward the console table. I just stared at her back.
Before, we had never had this kind of fight. She always took good care of me, always treated me right. Always looked at me with those loving eyes. But now... was that it, Ro? Was it because she had never truly loved me throughout our relationship before?
I swallowed a lump, keeping my emotions intact.
When she came back in front of me, she shoved a gift bag against my chest. "Here," she said.
I couldn't help but clutch it, looking at her.
"I was going to give this to you last night.
But thank you, Sol, for giving me your own surprise instead. "
My hands tightened around the gift bag as I looked down at it, chuckling bitterly.
"Ro, was this your idea of love? Cutting me open again and again while I kept taking it?
Is this all I was to you?" I glanced up at her, stepping closer.
"Do you think I didn't know the weight of your words?
Do you think I didn't feel every knife you twisted in me? "
I gave her a faint smile. "You still saw me as that same girl, didn't you? The Sloane you could use whenever you wanted. The girl beneath you in status, in worth—who should just be grateful you touched her at all."
Turning my back to her, I walked to the nightstand and placed the gift there before turning back again.
Aurora didn't utter a single word, probably realizing the implications of everything she had just spat out in front of me.
My hand reached out, brushing away the tears from her cheeks.
But instead of stopping, she broke into a sob, her lips pressing against my palm, breaking my heart in return. I had never let her shed unhappy tears before. When I saw her cry, it was always from happiness. Had twelve years apart really torn us this much?
I kept wiping her tears away, my hands trembling as I gave her a faint, broken smile. "Don't cry over me, Ro. Not for me. Save your tears for someone you truly loved... not for the girl you only ever used for sex."
"Sol..." she whispered, her tears still falling. She pulled me closer, leaning in and kissing me desperately. I shut my eyes, tasting her tears between the kiss, but before it could go any further, I pulled away.
Taking a step back, I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and laughed bitterly.
"Don't," I whispered. "Don't you ever dare touch me again—especially if you see me as someone unfaithful to you.
Don't you ever dare touch me again, Ro. Because you're only tearing me to pieces. .. and it hurts."
Aurora looked at me for quite a while, our breathing ragged from crying. We both stood there—so close, yet so painfully far from each other. She hitched a deep breath before slowly nodding.
"I..." Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and wiped her face with trembling hands. "I should go. Get some rest," she murmured, turning her back and walking out of our bedroom.
The moment the door shut, I sank down on the edge of the bed. Reaching for the gift bag, I hesitated before opening it. I swallowed hard as I lifted the box inside and found a folded note resting on top—Aurora's handwriting.
To my Sol,
It's not much, but I was thinking of you when I requested this handcrafted music box from Reuge. I hope you like it.
A.D.
My hands trembled as I lifted the music box from its casing and twisted the lever a few times before letting it go.
My breath hitched when the melody began to play—an old, familiar tune from our Oxford days.
The one she used to hum whenever she sketched.
Ne me quitte pas. Don't leave me.
I pressed a hand over my mouth as tears spilled down my cheeks. The melody played on, and the memories came rushing back—every laugh, every promise, every night we thought would last forever.