Winning Back His Forgotten Wife

Elena's Pov:

I blinked, convinced that somehow I'd unknowingly wished on a genie and was caught up in the madness of a poorly made wish.

I looked up at him, he looked serious.

“Why?”

“Because you are going to need help getting back on your feet. You are going to need leverage, a stable address, a name that carries weight in a courtroom. And you are going to need someone Adrian cannot dismiss.” He paused. “I can be all of those things.”

“And what do you get out of it?” I asked because men like this usually have more to gain from a situation like this than me. Nothing is for free. That I had come to know of..

He held my gaze. “Nothing if you must know.”

“You're a business man, Lucien. I refuse to believe there is nothing in it for you”.

He said nothing, just looked away and stared up at the glass windows of the company.

I looked back at the document. I thought about Ethan’s face when he pushed me away. I thought about my father closing the door. I thought about Adrian’s voice saying leave, like I was a guest who had overstayed a welcome I was never actually given.

I had nothing. No home, not a family, not even a room for the night. I had a folder of documents and a car and whatever was left of myself after this evening had finished taking pieces of me.

But I had not walked out of that house to become someone who needed saving. And if I was going to sign anything tonight, I was going to understand exactly what I was signing.

“You said you’d help me get what I need” I said, my heart racing.

I had promised myself to make Adrian pay for what he did, and I was going to make sure I do. I didn't know how, but I would. Maybe taking this step was the first step to my revenge.

“Yes.” he replied.

“And my revenge.” I asked, turning to really look at him.

Up close, he was devastatingly handsome with his sharp jaw, silver grey eyes that made him look like some A list actor.

He looked nothing like Adrian, and that made me quickly look away from him.

“Every last piece of it.” He reassured me.

I looked at him for a long moment.

I brought out a pen from my purse. I looked at the document one more time.

Then I signed it.

He took the certificate back without a word and folded it carefully along the original crease. I had walked into this evening as Elena Kingston, wife of Adrian. I was still leaving it as Elena Kingston, wife of a Kingston, one of the most powerful men in the city.

“Fine,” I said quietly, more to myself than to him. “I’ll marry you.”

********************

The drive back was quiet and somehow therapeutic. Billie Eilish’s Lovely was playing in Lucien’s car.

There were so many questions pressing up against the inside of my chest that I did not know which one to let out first.

He drove me to a building in the heart of the city. A huge mansion, much larger than I and Adrian's.

We rode the elevator up without speaking and when the doors opened directly into the apartment I stepped out and stopped.

I had been bracing for something cold. Maybe only a black and white minimalist decor suited for his personality. But this was warm. There were bookshelves along one full wall. Low, even lighting. Floor to ceiling windows that gave me a perfect view of the city lights.

Lucien set his keys on the counter and turned around. He held a key card out toward me.

“The whole floor is mine,” he said. “Choose whichever room you want.”

I took the card but did not move. “What do you actually expect from me?” I asked. “I need to know.”

He looked at me for a moment. “Tomorrow," he began, "you're going to tell me about the event company you've wanted to start for years. The one you never mentioned because you didn't think anyone would back it." He paused at the door. "I already made a call about office space. You don't have to use it. But it's there.”

And he left.

I found a room, still in a daze and entered, then I sat on the edge of the bed.

The room was large and beautifully furnished.

I picked up my phone.

The lockscreen photograph looked back at me. Adrian in the centre with Ethan on his shoulders, and me standing beside them, smiling. I remembered that day. A company event two summers ago. He had put his arm around me briefly for the photograph and I had held onto that for weeks afterward.

Thirty seconds. One arm around me for thirty seconds and I had treated it like proof that things were getting better.

I looked at my own face for a long time.

She had loved him so much that she had made excuses for every forgotten anniversary, every cold dinner, every night she waited alone. She had given and given and given and told herself it was what love was supposed to look like.

It was not supposed to look like that.

I set the phone face down on the bed and pressed the heels of my hands hard against my eyes. Ethan had turned five today and I had not been there. And my son had run straight past my open arms and pushed me away with both hands.

The phone lit up.

It was Adrian.

I watched it ring and I did not move. Then it stopped. Then it rang again. Then again. Then the messages began arriving one after the other, each one landing before I had finished reading the last.

Where are you?

Answer your phone.

Stop being ridiculous and come home.

We need to talk, Elena.

I read every single one. Not a single sorry. Not one acknowledgment of what I had walked into that evening. Just Adrian, fully convinced that I would do what I had always done before and come back.

I sighed softly and turned my phone so that the screen faced the bed.

Then I heard a knock at the door.

I sat up straight. “Come in.”

Lucien opened the door halfway. He was holding a glass of water with two tablets balanced on the rim.

“You look exhausted,” he said simply. He set the glass and the medicine on the nightstand. “Get some sleep.”

He left before I could respond to him.

I sat there for a while, trying to gather my thoughts and a plan for my life when he burst in again, the expression on his face tinkering between amusement and disgust.

“What happened?” I asked.

He looked at me for a few seconds.

“Adrian just received the divorce papers.”

“And?”

“He doesn’t believe you’re serious.”

I looked away with a chuckle.

Lucien's phone vibrated again. He glanced down at it, and this time I watched his lips curl in a smirk.

"He says if you don't come home tonight," Lucien said slowly, "he's coming here himself.”