Chapter 3 #2
I blink awake, with the sun on my face. It feels like a whole new day. My mind is an empty canvas. I used to hate that foggy feeling when my memory slipped. Weeks ago, maybe. Or was it months? Years?
I really don’t know. All I know is I hear things.
Voices, getting closer and louder. Outside of my door.
The first thing I hear clearly is Clo’s voice, confident and carrying through the air.
It makes me feel safe, like I’m not an outsider looking in, but someone who belongs here.
In her grand mansion, her expansive estate.
The second voice has to be Kaye’s. It’s lighter, warmer, freer.
It puts a smile on my face. I stir beneath the covers, my body slow to wake, my mind still tangled in the lingering haze of sleep.
The warmth of my bed is tempting, the air outside of it a tad too cool, but Clo’s voice slips through the door, pulling me toward full wakefulness. I’m drawn alert to her presence.
“…it’ll be good for you, darling,” she says, smooth as silk, outside the door, most likely directed at Kaye. “A fresh start. You and my son will have the loveliest time traveling. And you’re sure you don’t want to take the private jet?”
I look at the ceiling, my fingers curling against the sheets before I push myself up. Yesterday was Kaye’s wedding. So today’s…her honeymoon? That’s what Clo meant by a fresh start. Though, the words feel like they’re cutting through me like a warning.
It’s snuffed out when I hear them talk more behind the door, particularly when Clo calmly says, “There’s no rush from us, Kaye. If you two would prefer to have a longer honeymoon, rest assured Kai and I will help your parents sort out Darkhaven. You and Damon deserve to slow down.”
Those two words. Slow down. Clo’s so caring. I feel light as air simply from hearing her talk. Smiling some more, I swing my legs over the side of the bed, sliding on my tights to hide burns I’ve dealt with since…
The breeze from the window hits my face.
I blink from the harshness, then lose my train of thought, my bare feet landing on the cool floor.
I slip on my shoes, moving on with my day.
But my heart beats a little faster for reasons I can’t explain.
Perhaps it’s something to do with the way I’m dressed since I don’t remember putting on this loose shirt, or maybe something about how their voices now seem so expectant, as if they’re waiting… for me?
Carefully, I step toward the door, my fingers wrapping around the knob. I hesitate for only a second before I twist it open. Clo and Kaye turn toward me at the same time.
Kaye’s face brightens instantly. “Elle,” she says, her voice light. “Good morning!”
Beside her, Clo smiles, poised. “Elle, let’s walk Kaye to her ride and wish her a safe trip before she leaves.”
I glance between them, nodding. “Of course.”
Clo reaches for my hand as if we’ve done this a hundred times before. And maybe we have. I just can’t quite recall all the times when.
The hallway is silent as we walk through it, the mansion’s still draped in the hush of early morning. The chandeliers above cast a warm glow. Clo leads us forward, her pace patient.
The cool air greets us as we step outside, the sky turning from dark ink to the deep blue of early morning. The estate is quiet at this transition of dawn.
Kaye walks beside me, easy in her movements, her posture loose despite the early hour. “So Elle, how long have you been working for Clo?”
The question is simple. I should have an answer. I open my mouth, but nothing comes at first. My mind reaches for something solid that should be there. Though, there’s only fog. “Not too long,” I whisper, uncertain.
Clo hums lightly. “It feels longer, doesn’t it?”
Kaye gives me a casual smile. “I figured you two have been working together for ages. You’re so in sync.” Then, she asks, “Where were you before this?”
I tense, my head throbbing as I knit my brows. Before this?
The fog thickens, pressing in from all sides. I reach for something—some memory, some detail—but I can’t find the edges of it. I know there must be something before this, but I can’t pull it forward. The silence stretches for seconds too long.
Clo steps in before it can settle. “Elle has been with me for quite some time now. I knew the moment I saw her that she was the perfect fit. A natural.”
Kaye nods, seemingly satisfied. “Makes sense.”
The driveway comes into view. Kaye’s expression changes.
She’s even brighter and more focused. I follow her gaze, where Damon stands beside a black limousine, his posture composed, his gaze piercing as he watches us approach.
His tie is loose, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.
His eyes, gray like storm clouds, just like the eyes of—
Kaye tears me away from my thoughts and from where my eyes stare when she grabs my hands and stands in front of me. “It was really nice meeting you, Elle.” Her smile shimmers. “Hope we can see each other again soon!”
I part my lips to respond. Still, nothing comes out.
“Of course you will,” Clo answers smoothly. “You two are bound to cross paths again. Now have a wonderful honeymoon, Kaye dear.”
Kaye smiles wider. I don’t say anything, because the moment is already moving past me. Kaye turns toward Damon and runs to him. Her heels click against the stone, her voice lifting in the cool morning air. “Dae,” she calls him, sounding as pleasant as a songbird calling for her lover.
Damon’s gaze softens at the sight of her. Any of that earlier sharpness in his expression has completely melted away.
He reaches for her, catching her around her waist effortlessly while she throws her arms around his neck. She presses onto her toes, kissing him as if no one else exists.
My heart flutters, because I want that. That certainty. That belonging. That quiet, unshakable devotion.
Kaye has somewhere to turn to. Someone to catch her when she runs toward them. While I have…no one.
The realization settles deep, but before I can hold on to it too tightly, Clo’s hand presses lightly against the small of my back, her touch guiding.
“Come now, Elle,” she says. “Let’s get my curls perfectly done, then we can sit for breakfast together before my meeting.”
I follow, looking over my shoulder. My eyes linger on the newlyweds. They look so elated, with their eyes only on each other. Clutching at my heart through my shirt, I realize I terribly yearn for that.
***
The breakfast room is drenched in gentle morning light, spilling in through the wide windows overlooking the estate’s gardens. The polished table is set with delicate china, the faint aroma of fresh bread and fruit filling the air.
Clo sits across from me, stirring a spoon idly in her coffee. The faint clink of silver against porcelain is the only sound between us for a long moment. Then, she glances up, offering an easy smile.
“You should eat, darling.” She gestures gently to the spread between us, of perfectly sliced fruit and fresh pastries. “You barely ate last night.”
She’s right. I should be hungry. But when I glance down, my gaze lands on the teacup in front of me instead.
The tea is still steaming, faint tendrils curling into the air, delicate and floral.
The scent is familiar in a way I can’t explain.
It’s something deeply embedded in me, something I should know.
“Drink before it gets cold,” Clo says, watching me. “You’ve always loved tea in the morning.”
I blink at her. I have?
The thought is small, but it roots itself in my mind, twisting around somewhere I can’t reach. Have I really always loved tea?
Despite my questioning thoughts, I pick up the cup, taking a slow sip. There’s so much bitterness to the tea that doesn’t sit right, but the honey makes it easier to swallow. The warmth spreads through me, but it does nothing to settle the strange feeling creeping up my spine.
I set the cup down carefully. Clo looks at her own coffee, dark and rich.
“You don’t drink tea?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Clo hums, shaking her head. “I’ve always preferred coffee.” She dips her head slightly, offering me a knowing smile. “But you—oh, you’ve always loved tea, Elle.”
Her words settle so easily, as if it’s a fact I should remember.
I force a small smile and take another sip, though my fingers feel a little tighter around the cup this time.
There’s something off about this. Something about the way her words curl into my mind, twisting around like vines, weaving so tightly that it’s hard to shake free.
The room is warm. The tea is warm. Clo’s presence is warm. And yet, I feel cold.
I should ignore it. I should simply let the harmless words settle, let them fade into the parts of my brain that don’t need answers.
But I can’t. Not when the source of answers is possibly sitting right across from me.
Clo knows everything about me. At least, that appears to be the case.
What harm would it be to mention something simple?
So I take a slow breath, choosing my words with delicate precision. “It’s interesting,” I murmur, keeping my voice soft, polite. “I can’t seem to remember always loving tea.”
Silence follows. Clo doesn’t look surprised. She studies me with quiet, patient interest. “Well,” she muses, tapping her spoon against the rim of her untouched coffee cup. “Memory is a funny thing, isn’t it? But some habits are simply part of us, whether we remember them or not.”
She gestures toward my cup, her movements elegant. I glance at the tea. The delicate porcelain, the half-finished liquid inside.
“You didn’t hesitate before drinking, did you, dear thing?” Clo’s voice is indulgent, almost affectionate. “It’s like muscle memory. I’m sure if you think about it too hard, it’ll slip away even more. That’s how it works sometimes. When we chase it, it slips out of our grasp.”
Her voice feels like honey, slipping around me before I even realize I’m tangled in it.