Chapter 155
Elena's POV
By the time we made it downstairs, the domesticity of it all felt surreal. I drifted toward the kitchen while Caleb gathered papers at the island, and it struck me how natural this felt—like we'd done this routine a thousand times before.
"Coffee?" I asked, already reaching for the grounds.
"Thanks." He didn't look up from the documents he was reviewing.
I busied myself with the coffee maker, watching him from the corner of my eye. He was already dressed for the office. All cold precision and controlled power.
"I'm going to start looking for jobs today," I said, keeping my tone light. "Need to make some money."
That got his attention. He glanced up, expression unreadable. "Jobs."
"Yeah." I poured coffee into two mugs, focused on keeping my hands steady. "I want to contribute, you know? To our future." I set his mug in front of him. "I can't just keep spending your money."
He was quiet for a long moment, studying me with that intensity that always made me feel like he could see straight through every defense I had. "You know I have that black card set up for you. Daily expenses aren't an issue."
"I know, but—" I wrapped my hands around my own mug, grateful for something to hold onto. "I want to prove I'm useful. That I can pull my weight."
"Useful." His voice went flat. He wasn't angry, exactly, but there was something carefully controlled in his expression. "You want to save money?"
"Yeah. I mean, that's the goal, right? We're getting married after I graduate, so—"
"Elena." He set down his papers, giving me his full attention. "That's five months away. You're not going to accumulate much in that time, no matter what job you take."
Heat flooded my face. "So what, you think I can't earn enough to matter? That I'm—"
"That's not what I meant." He cut me off, voice firm but not harsh. "Listen to me. Your first job out of university is important. It sets the trajectory for your entire career. I don't want you taking something you hate just because you feel pressure to contribute financially right now."
I stared at him, thrown by the shift in conversation.
He leaned forward slightly, holding my gaze. "I can support us both. That's not arrogance, it's fact. What I want is for you to find work you actually care about. Something that makes you want to get up in the morning, not something you're settling for because you think you owe me proof."
His words hit harder than I expected, sinking into some tender place I hadn't realized was there. I swallowed hard. "I just—I don't want to be a burden."
"You're not." The certainty in his voice left no room for argument. "You never have been."
I felt something loosen in my chest, some knot I'd been carrying without realizing it. Before I could talk myself out of it, I crossed the space between us and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest. "Meeting you was the best thing that ever happened to me."
He went rigid for exactly one second—then his hand came up to cradle the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, soft and reverent, and I felt him exhale slowly.
"I have to go," he murmured against my hair, but he didn't move.
"I know."
"I'll be home late tonight. Meetings."
"Okay."
His arms tightened around me briefly, then he pulled back, his expression carefully neutral again. "Lock the door after me. And text me if you need anything."
I nodded, following him to the foyer. He paused at the door, looking back at me with something unreadable in his eyes, then left without another word.
The house felt too quiet without him in it.
---
I forced myself back to the kitchen, drained my coffee, and opened my laptop with renewed determination. Caleb's words echoed in my head as I scrolled through job listings: Find work you actually care about.
I pulled up translation job boards and started filtering. Not generic corporate work—something literary. Publishing houses, maybe. Cultural organizations. Places where language mattered, where the nuance and beauty of words were valued.
By the time I finished, I'd sent out exactly four applications. Four carefully chosen positions that made my chest feel tight with something like hope.
It felt terrifying. And right.
I closed the laptop and checked my phone. Still nothing from Caleb, but I hadn't really expected anything. He was probably already in back-to-back meetings.
Instead there was a text from Lila: you around? could use some company
I frowned at the screen. Lila never asked for company—she was usually the one dragging me places. I typed back quickly: What's wrong? Want me to come over?
Her response came fast: please
---
When Lila let me in, her apartment was a mess—empty wine bottles on the coffee table, tissues scattered across the couch, her hair tangled like she'd been pulling at it. She looked exhausted, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed.
"Jesus, Lila." I kicked off my shoes and immediately went to her, pulling her into a hug. "You drank more after getting home last night?"
She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Wasn't completely drunk at the bar last night. So I kept going when I got back."
"Don't torture yourself like this." I sighed.
"Wasn't planning to drink so much." She pulled back, wiping at her eyes. "It's just—thinking about Ethan with that woman. Laughing. I realized I've wasted two years on someone who'll never like me back."
I sat down next to her, taking her hand. "Stop. You're funny and loyal and you care about people. The right person will see that."
"Yeah, well. Clearly Ethan isn't the right person." She grabbed a tissue, blowing her nose inelegantly. "Sorry. Shouldn't have asked you to come listen to me complain."
"That's exactly why I came here."
She managed a watery smile, then seemed to remember something. "Oh. Damon called me last night."
I went very still. "What?"
"Damon." She said his name like it tasted bad. "He was asking about you and Caleb. Wanted to know what your relationship was really like."
My stomach dropped. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth." Lila shrugged. "That you two have been close. That if it wasn't for your family's arrangement, you never would've agreed to that engagement." She paused. "He didn't sound happy about it."
"What did he say?"