Chapter 124 up
“I need to talk to you.”
Clark’s voice sounded unfamiliar—thin, strained, as if it had traveled a long distance just to reach her. Elara stood by the window of the small apartment she had chosen for safety, her back to him, watching the late afternoon light stretch across the floor.
She didn’t turn around.
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” she replied. “Say it anyway.”
Clark swallowed. He had rehearsed this moment in his head countless times, yet now that it was here, the words felt like broken glass in his mouth.
“I wasn’t honest with you,” he began.
Elara let out a soft breath, almost a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “That’s not a confession, Clark. That’s a summary.”
He flinched.
“There is… another child,” he said. “From before we met.”
The words landed exactly where they were meant to—but not with the effect he had imagined.
Elara closed her eyes.
Not because she was shocked.
But because she was tired.
“I know,” she said quietly.
Clark froze. “You—what?”
“I said I know.” She turned slowly now, her face pale, eyes hollow but steady. “Do you think I left you because of stress alone?”
He stared at her, stunned. “Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I wanted to hear what you would say,” she answered. “Without being cornered. Without excuses.”
Clark stepped closer, desperation creeping into his posture. “Elara, listen. It wasn’t like that. I didn’t abandon them the way you think.”
She crossed her arms, instinctively protective of her body, of the life growing inside her. “Then tell me how it was.”
He hesitated—just a fraction of a second too long.
“It was complicated,” he said. “The woman… she didn’t want me involved. She disappeared. I was young, under pressure from my family. I did what I could.”
Elara’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“You did what you could,” she repeated.
“Yes,” Clark said, grasping onto the word like a lifeline. “I provided support. Financially. Quietly. I made sure the child was taken care of.”
“Taken care of,” Elara echoed, her voice flat.
He nodded. “I wasn’t ready to be a father then. But I wasn’t heartless.”
Something in her gaze shifted—not anger, not sadness.
Disbelief.
“Do you hear yourself?” she asked softly. “You talk about a child like a liability you managed, not a life you were responsible for.”
“That’s not fair—”
“No,” she interrupted. “What’s not fair is calling abandonment a logistical decision.”
Clark’s hands curled into fists. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“You always had a choice,” Elara said. “You just chose what was easiest.”
The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive.
Clark tried again. “I wanted to protect you from this. From the mess.”
“You wanted to protect your image,” Elara replied. “And now you’re protecting it again.”
He shook his head. “I’m telling you the truth now.”
She met his eyes. “No. You’re telling me a version of the truth that makes you survivable.”
The words struck deep.
Clark’s face drained of color. “What do you mean?”
“You’re leaving out the parts where you used your family’s power,” she said. “The parts where a woman was erased so your future wouldn’t be inconvenient. The parts where you decided who mattered and who didn’t.”
He opened his mouth—but nothing came out.
Because somewhere, in a quiet corner of the city, Selena smiled without joy.
She stood at the edge of a crowded café, her phone lowered, the echo of Clark’s voice still ringing in her memory from a recording she had no intention of sharing—yet.
Still lying, she thought. Even now.
Selena didn’t need to interfere anymore. The damage was unfolding perfectly on its own.
Back in the apartment, Elara felt something crack—not loudly, not violently—but completely.
“So this is it,” she said. “This is the man I married.”
Clark took another step forward. “We can fix this. I’ll be honest from now on. I swear.”
She laughed then—a brittle, broken sound.
“You’re too late,” she said.
“Elara—”
She raised a hand, stopping him.
“You confessed because I left,” she continued. “Because I stopped being convenient. Not because you suddenly respected me.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” she said calmly. “And that’s what hurts the most.”
Her phone buzzed on the table. She ignored it.
Clark’s voice dropped. “What about our child?”
Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach.
“Our child,” she repeated. “You mean the one you couldn’t even promise a future to?”
He winced.
“I was scared,” he admitted.
“So was I,” Elara said. “And I still am. The difference is—I didn’t lie about it.”
The room felt too small now, the walls pressing in with every unspoken truth.
Clark’s shoulders sagged. “I love you.”
She studied him for a long moment, searching for something—anything—that might make those words land.
They didn’t.
“Love without honesty is just control dressed as care,” she said.
Tears filled his eyes. “Please. Don’t do this.”
Elara walked past him, stopping only when she stood directly in front of him.
Her voice was steady. Cold. Final.
“I did not marry this man.”
Clark froze.
“I married someone I believed in,” she continued. “Someone who would stand beside me, not above me. Someone who wouldn’t erase women and children when they became inconvenient.”