Chapter 103
Elara
I pressed myself against the far door. Put as much distance between us as possible.
Julian pulled off his sunglasses. Tossed them on the dashboard. He looked exhausted. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair was slightly disheveled, which was unusual for him.
He loosened his tie. Unbuttoned his cuffs. The silence stretched.
"What were you trying to prove?" he finally asked.
"That I can take care of myself."
He turned to look at me. "By selling sketches on a street corner."
"By working. By using my skills to earn money. Like a normal person."
"You're not a normal person."
"Why? Because you say so?"
He exhaled slowly. His jaw worked. "You have money. Grandfather gave you two checks. I transferred you your father's insurance payout. You have more than enough to live on. So why the hell are you out there on the street, drawing pictures for tourists?"
His voice had risen. The control was slipping.
I understood then.
"You're not worried about me," I said. My voice came out steady. Calm. "You're worried about what people will think. About what it looks like when the Vane family's foster daughter is selling art on street corners."
"That's not—"
"You're afraid I'm making the family look bad. Even though I'm nothing to you. Even though I have no blood relation. Even though you've all been trying to push me out from the beginning." I leaned forward. Met his eyes. "But you can't let people see that, can you? You can't let them know the truth about how the Vane family really treats people. It would ruin that perfect reputation you've all worked so hard to build."
His hands curled into fists on his lap. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" I kept my voice level. "The real weakness isn't mine, Julian. It's yours. It's your family's. I can put aside my pride. I can do what I need to do to survive. But you? All of you? You're willing to sacrifice everything for an image. For a reputation that's built on lies."
He was staring at me. His face had gone blank. That mask he wore when he didn't want anyone to see what he was feeling.
I wasn't done.
"You came to find me today. You dragged me away from my work, from the first real money I've earned in my life. So tell me, Julian." I paused. Made sure he was listening. "Did you do it for the Vane family reputation? Or did you do it for yourself?"
The question hung in the air.
Julian didn't answer. His breathing had changed. Faster. Shallower.
"You know the answer," I said quietly. "Even if you won't admit it."
For a long moment, we just stared at each other. The car hummed around us. Traffic sounds filtered through the windows.
Then his phone rang.
The sound shattered the moment. Julian glanced at the screen. His whole face changed.
Sloane.
He answered. "Hey."
Even through the speaker, her voice sounded weak. Fragile. "Julian... I don't feel good. The baby's been kicking all day and I can't stop throwing up. Everything hurts. Can you come home?"
The exhaustion disappeared from his face. He sat up straighter. "I'm coming right now. Just lie down, okay? Don't move. I'll have someone bring you soup—"
"Where are you?" A pause. A change in her tone. "Are you with her? With Elara?"
I watched Julian's jaw work. Watched him choose his words.
"I'm handling something. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
"I need you now!" Her voice broke. Tears. "Julian, I'm scared. The baby—what if something's wrong? I need you here. The baby needs you here."
His hand tightened on the phone. "Nothing's wrong. You're fine. The baby's fine. I'm coming. Just hold on."
"Promise me. Promise you're coming right now."
"I promise. I'm on my way."
He hung up. Gave Atlas an address without looking at me.
The car turned around.
For several blocks, neither of us spoke. Julian stared out the window. His jaw was set. His shoulders were tense.
I knew that tension. I'd seen it before, in my past life. It was the tension of a man trying to be in two places at once. Trying to manage two parts of his life that didn't fit together.
In my past life, I'd always been the part he sacrificed. The part he put aside when Sloane called.
Nothing had changed.
"I'll drop you off," he said quietly.
"Don't bother." I reached for the door handle even though the car was moving. "Let me out here."
"Elara—"
"You made your choice." I looked at him. Really looked. "You always do."
Something crossed his face. Pain, maybe. Or frustration. It was hard to tell.
"It's not that simple."
"Yes, it is. She calls. You go. That's how it works."
"She's pregnant with my child—"
"I know. You don't have to explain." My throat felt tight. "Just let me out."
"I can't just leave you on a random street corner—"
"Yes, you can. You're good at leaving."
He flinched. Actually flinched.
The car slowed. Julian stared at me. His eyes were dark. Unreadable.
"Fine," he said. "Atlas, pull over."
The car stopped at the next corner. Somewhere in Brooklyn. I didn't even know where.
I opened the door. Got out.
Julian leaned forward. "Elara—"
His phone rang again. Sloane. Again.
He looked at the phone. Looked at me.
I knew what he was going to do before he did it.
He answered the call. "I'm five minutes away. I promise. Just breathe."
I closed the door. Stepped back onto the sidewalk.
Through the tinted window, I saw Julian's mouth moving. Saw him talking to Sloane, reassuring her, telling her everything she needed to hear.
The Maserati pulled away from the curb. Disappeared into traffic.
I stood there on the corner. People walked past me. The city moved around me.
My phone buzzed. Raven.
"Where are you? Are you okay?"
I looked around. Found a street sign. Texted her my location.
"Stay there. I'm coming."
Twenty minutes later, she showed up. She was dragging the easel and the folding table. Her face was red from running.
"I grabbed everything," she panted. "Took two subway trains. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"No." I took the easel from her. "I'm fine."
"What happened?"
"The same thing that always happens." I started walking. Raven followed. "He got a call from Sloane. She needed him. He left."
Raven was quiet for a moment. Then: "He's an asshole."
I almost smiled. "Yeah."
We walked to the subway station together. The evening rush was starting. The platform was crowded. We stood there with all our supplies, looking like exactly what we were—two broke art students trying to survive.
But my pocket was full of cash. Cash I'd earned. Cash that was mine.
I thought about Emily and her friends showing up to support me. About the couple with the pink-haired girl. About the old man with his dying dog. About the teenage girl who'd smiled when she saw herself as pretty.
I thought about Raven, who'd run across Brooklyn to find me when I disappeared.
Then I thought about Julian's face when Sloane's call came through. The way everything else stopped mattering. The way I stopped mattering.
In my past life, I'd waited for years for him to choose me. I'd believed that if I was patient enough, good enough, useful enough, he'd eventually see me as more than a convenience.
I'd been so stupid.
"You know what?" I said to Raven.
"What?"
"We're doing this again next weekend. I want to make two thousand dollars this time."
She grinned. "Hell yes."