Bound by lies, Trapped by Desire - Chapter 22: Chapter 22

Elena’s POV:
I cleared my throat, trying to settle the sudden flutter in my chest. “I didn’t think about that. Y-you’re right, I’m sor—”
“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his voice calm but firm. “I don’t like you apologizing to me. It’s alright. So, I’ll send over a trusted designer. You can discuss what you want to wear with her and make your decision together with your mother.”
His words made me pause. I bit my bottom lip, my heart pounding a little harder. Don’t like me apologizing? What was that supposed to mean? Why was he being so… romantic all of a sudden? It was confusing. Disorienting.
I shook my head to clear it and nodded instinctively, even though he wasn’t in front of me. “A-alright.”
A long pause followed, thick with silence. Finally, I asked, “Is there anything else?”
He chuckled, and the sound was low, almost affectionate. “Did you miss me?”
A jolt ran through me. “Don’t be ridiculous, we just saw each other two days ago,” I mumbled, cheeks heating.
“Ah… my wife is too shy to even say she misses me?” he teased. I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. My face burned hotter, and I glanced at my mom, who was looking at me like she was witnessing a soap opera.
I groaned inwardly and hurriedly turned off the speaker, lifting the phone to my ear. “I–I did miss you, okay? Now go back to work,” I hissed, trying to end the embarrassment before it swallowed me whole.
He laughed softly. “Hm? Speaker finally off?”
My eyes widened. How did he—
“Don’t worry, I didn’t install any cameras,” he added, like he was reading my mind. “The sound changes when you put the phone on speaker. There’s a faint echo.”
Right. Of course, he knew that. He was observant like that. Too observant.
“Anyway… did I do well?” he asked quietly.
I blinked, caught off guard by the softness in his tone. So that’s why he had acted so uncharacteristically romantic. A smile crept onto my lips. “Yeah… yeah, you did.”
“Hm. Well, take care then. I’ll just… ‘go back to work,’” he mimicked, and I clenched my fist, trying not to laugh.
“Take care,” I replied, then hung up with a sigh.
I turned back to Mom and found her eyeing me with narrowed eyes.
“What? Satisfied now?” I asked, rolling my eyes and slumping down onto my bed.
She hummed, noncommittal. “Hmm… I don’t know. The blush seems believable. Dmitri hardly ever made you such a bumbling mess. It’s almost surprising.”
My eyes widened. “Mom!”
She just smirked, clearly enjoying this a little too much.
Then her expression sobered as she leaned back on the pillows. “Still, what’s the rush? There are still three months before the wedding.”
My stomach dropped. Right.
She didn’t know.
I hadn’t told her that I was marrying him next week.
Panic twisted in my chest. What the hell was I going to do? Should I call Nikolai and ask him to handle this like he did before?
No. No. No.
She was mad at me for two whole days after that. If I told her now that the wedding was in less than a week, she might just disown me on the spot.
What if she said I wasn’t her daughter anymore?
She sighed, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. “Well, it’s too bad. You saved up money for that wedding dress. But I agree, you shouldn’t wear the one you chose for that bastard.”
Grateful for the shift in topic, I exhaled. “Don’t worry about that. I can just return the dress. The shop is my friend Rachel’s.”
“Ah, right. That sweet friend of yours.”
I nodded and turned toward my own bed as she started watching her drama again. Thankfully, I had brought over my textbooks. Mom was recovering faster than expected. Although she sometimes drifted into her memories of Dad during the emotional scenes, she seemed to be handling it well.
This was one of their favorite dramas, and I knew she was watching it to feel close to him. Everyone has their own way of grieving. My mother just happened to grieve quietly, with grace, and without burdening anyone else.
That was something she’d taught me too.
Never cry in front of others. Because no one else can fix your pain. No one else can save you but yourself.
The only exceptions had been George—and me.
For me, that person had always been my mother. My anchor. My first hug. My first applause. My first love.
I opened my textbook and got to work. As much as I wanted to wallow or process everything happening in my life, I didn’t have that luxury. Time didn’t wait for anyone, and I had to return to work right after the wedding. I had only managed a week off, which meant these few days had to count for my project and the upcoming exam.
With a deep sigh, I grabbed a pen and began scribbling notes.
Two hours passed in a blur of reading, highlighting, and diagram sketching. I was just starting to lose myself in the details of a combustion engine design when a knock at the door startled me.
Mom stirred from her nap, eyes fluttering open, and looked toward the door.
“Wait, I’ll go check,” I whispered, sliding my chair back and standing up.
I padded over to the door and opened it slowly—only to freeze at the sight of the person standing on the other side.