Chapter 2 Three

The next morning, I'm woken by a knock.

Soft. Polite. But persistent.

I sit up, groggy. The bed's too soft, the silk sheets are perfect and smooth, and it takes me a moment to remember I am not at the hospital where the cot is stiff.

Then I see the ring on my finger.

Right.

I'm back in the lion's den.

"Elena?" a woman's voice calls through the door. "We're ready for wardrobe."

Wardrobe?

I open the door to find a petite woman holding a tablet, her short bob tucked behind one ear. She's flanked by two assistants and a rolling rack of designer clothes.

"Sorry," I mumble, still in my robe.

"No worries. Mr. Grey scheduled a press shoot for eleven. We're doing photos and a short video-proof of reconciliation."

My stomach knots. "Reconciliation?"

"Yes." Her smile is pleasant but professional. "It's important the world believes you two are truly in love again."

She gestures to the rack. "Everything here has been preselected to match your tone-soft, neutral colors. Romantic but reserved. You're supposed to be 'glowing with newfound hope.'"

I stare at her blankly.

"This is insane."

She doesn't blink. "Welcome back, Mrs. Grey."

An hour later, I'm standing in a warm sunlit greenhouse that is surrounded by beautiful flowers.

The whole crew is in place-the lights warm against my skin and the makeup artist gives one final touch of gloss to my lips. I'm wearing a peach dress that fits tighter on my body- like it was meant to be that way which is intentional.

Then Alex walks in calm and confident, like the whole world belongs to him

Of course he does.

Black slacks. White shirt. No tie. He looks the way the world expects- an unreadable face and out of reach.

But when he sees me, something changes.

He looks at my waist, then at the ring that I shouldn't be wearing.

He moves close, voice quiet.

"You clean up well."

I lift my chin. "Don't flatter me. It's your brand on the line, not mine."

He smirks. "True. But the camera loves you."

The photographer interrupts. "Let's get a few intimate shots. Stand behind her, Mr. Grey. Wrap your arms around her waist."

Alex moves without pause..

His hands were around my hips, steady and sure. His chest brushes against my back. I feel his breath on my ear as he speaks.

"Why are you shaking," he asks.

"I'm not used to this," I say softly.

So you are used to "Lying?"

"Pretending."

"Same thing."

I turn my head just slightly. "What about you? You look... comfortable."

"Because I'm not pretending," he says.

That throws me.

For a moment, the air shifts between us. The flashbulb pops. The photographer murmurs something encouraging.

But I don't catch a single word.

All I can hear is my heart beating-and the echo of him standing so close, like he never really left.

By the time the shoot wraps, Alex is gone. No goodbye. Nothing.

I went to the guest house, my nerves frayed.

There's a stack of fresh paperwork on the counter-legal briefings, publicity schedules, social media statements. A whole machine behind this lie we're now both committed to.

I make myself a cup of tea and sit in a chair settled by the window, watching the vineyard calm and endless.

The vines run in tidy lines and neat, every row carefully shaped. Unlike myself.

Unlike John's.

A knock comes again, lighter this time.

I open the door to find Caroline-Alex's house manager. Her expression is unreadable, but she holds out a file folder.

"Mr. Grey wanted you to have this."

I open it, expecting more contracts.

Instead, it's a photo.

A tabloid clipping from four years ago.

Me-pregnant, wearing a hoodie, rushing into a clinic.

I go cold.

"He knows," I whisper.

Caroline pauses. "I don't think he knows. But he's suspicious."

I stare at the photo. My face isn't visible, but I know it's me. One hand resting on my stomach. It was taken weeks before I left.

"Where did this come from?"

"His investigator."

I clutch the edge of the folder. "And he hasn't said anything?"

"Not yet."

I nod once, heart pounding.

"Tell him I need to talk to him."

Caroline pauses. "Do you think that's smart?"

"No," I say softly. "But I have to."

That night, Alex finally returns.

I'm already in the sitting room, the folder laid out between us. I don't get up when he walks in.

His eyes flick at the photo, then to me.

"Interesting choice of bedtime reading."

"Why have you been watching me?" I say softly

He shrugs, removing his cufflinks. "I have every right to figure out who I am living with." That's fair, isn't it?

"You didn't trust me then. You don't trust me now."

"Trust is earned, Elena. And you crashed yours out when you ran."

"I had a reason."

"Then tell me."

I open my mouth-but the words get stuck.

How do I explain that I left to protect a child he never asked for? A child who would've been swallowed whole by this life?

"I can't," I say finally.

He nods once, cold. "Then we're done here."

He turns to leave.

But before he reaches the door, I say, "You once asked me why I left."

He stops.

"And the truth is... I didn't leave you, Alex. I left the version of us that couldn't survive your world."

He says nothing.

Then quietly, he walks out.

And I know-

The lie is running out of time quicker than I expected.