Chapter 134

Elena's POV

I saw and heard everything that happened downstairs just now.

Why are they so familiar with each other? The question burned in my mind.

The way Richard spoke to her—there was exasperation, yes, but also an understanding that came from years of connection. He even knew intimate details about her finances.

During those six years when I was gone, what kind of relationship did they develop?

The jealousy that surged through me was different from what I felt toward Victoria.

I was jealous. Painfully, unmistakably jealous.

The realization hit me hard. My feelings for Richard had changed, evolved into something I wasn't ready to name.

When I heard the car engine growing distant, I went downstairs.

"Anna, what's the schedule for today?" I asked, trying to sound casual as I entered the kitchen.

"Mr. Blackwood asked you to take care of the children while he returns from treatment," Anna replied.

I nodded, pretending this was normal, that I wasn't burning with questions about him and Emma.

From morning until afternoon, I waited. The children played, had lunch, napped—and still Richard didn't return. With each passing hour, my unease grew.

Finally, as evening approached, I made a decision. I couldn't wait any longer.

"Anna, I need to go out for a while," I announced, grabbing my jacket. "Please watch the children."

---

When I arrived at Emma's place, I discovered Richard's car in the parking lot. My heart raced. He had been here all day.

"Excuse me," I said to the receptionist, trying to keep my voice steady. "Is Dr. Wells available?"

The young woman glanced up. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, I'm here to pick up my husband, Richard Blackwood," I explained. "Dr. Wells has been treating him all day, and he hasn't returned home."

The assistant's expression changed dramatically, her eyes widening. "You're... Mrs. Blackwood?"

Her reaction sent a chill down my spine. Something wasn't right.

"What's going on down there?" a voice called from upstairs.

The assistant's head snapped up. "Dr. Wells! There's someone here to see Mr. Blackwood."

"Who is it?" Emma's voice carried a note of curiosity.

The assistant glanced at me before hurrying up the stairs. I listened to their hushed conversation that I couldn't quite make out. A few minutes later, the assistant returned with a noticeably different demeanor.

"Dr. Wells will see you now," she said, her voice tight as she gestured toward the stairs.

Emma was wearing a robe, her hair slightly disheveled as if she'd just woken up. She looked effortlessly beautiful in a way that made my stomach twist with insecurity.

"Elena," she said, her voice smooth as honey. "What a surprise."

She gestured to a pristine white couch. "Please, sit. Would you like some coffee?"

Before I could answer, she was already walking to the kitchen, returning moments later with two steaming mugs. She placed one in front of me.

"Honestly," Emma continued, settling into an armchair across from me, "I didn't expect you to come pick him up personally."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why would you be surprised that I came to pick up my husband? Isn't that normal?"

Emma's laugh was light but devoid of warmth. "Normal? Let's not play games, Elena. First of all, you two aren't exactly a real married couple. Second, I could have easily sent him back myself."

The casual way she revealed her knowledge about my relationship with Richard felt like a slap across my face. My cheeks burned with humiliation.

"How do you..." I began, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"Your relationship with Richard is hardly a secret to those who know where to look," she said, sipping her coffee. "The question is, why are you really here? It's not just to pick him up, is it?"

I felt suddenly exposed, as if she'd peeled back my skin to reveal everything underneath. "Are you reading my thoughts?" I demanded, my voice sharper than intended.

Emma's eyebrow arched. "Reading your thoughts? Don't be ridiculous. Why would I need to do that? You wear your emotions all over your face."

She set down her coffee mug and leaned forward. "You came here tonight not just to get Richard, but to see me. You wanted to know who I am, what role I play in his life. And most importantly..." her eyes glinted, "you want to know what Richard and I mean to each other. Isn't that right?"

A chill ran down my spine. How could she know exactly what I was thinking? It was as if she'd reached into my mind and plucked out my thoughts.

"Relax," Emma said, her tone softening slightly. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

She settled back in her chair. "My relationship with Richard did indeed begin as therapist and patient. But as our sessions progressed and we spent more time together, he became... attached to me."

My heart constricted painfully as she continued.

"Eventually, they wanted to arrange our union," she said so casually, as if discussing the weather. "And Richard... well, he didn't object."

The room seemed to tilt around me. Richard and Emma? The two families wanted them together? And Richard had been willing?

"You're shocked," Emma observed. "I understand. But don't worry—I turned it down. I wasn't interested in that kind of arrangement, so I left."

I stood frozen, unable to process what I was hearing. If Emma hadn't left... she would have been Richard's chosen mate. Not me. Never me.

"I've always wondered," Emma mused, "why Gerald made that decision. He knew his son's condition better than anyone. Why would he arrange a marriage between you two when Richard was at his most unstable?"

"What... what do you mean?" I managed to ask, my voice barely audible.

Emma's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "After I left, Richard's mental state deteriorated significantly. What he needed most was stability, not surprises. So why would they force a marriage with you?"

She tilted her head, studying me. "Perhaps Gerald just wanted to keep you, a knowledgeable outsider, under his surveillance."

Something clicked in Emma's eyes, as if she'd just solved a puzzle. "Or maybe... there was something else entirely."

Her words hit me like a physical blow. She was right, that's exactly what Gerald had been thinking, and it created a rift between us. Our relationship could never return to what it was before.

I don't remember leaving Emma's apartment. My body moved on autopilot, guided by instinct rather than conscious thought. The next thing I knew, I was wandering aimlessly through the streets.