She set the cup down and began to fidget with her wedding ring, twisting it like it might anchor her to something solid. Gods, she looked fucking sad. Elowyn stood there in silence, her gaze drifting toward the doorway, lingering as if she half-expected someone, anyone, to notice her presence.
Her eyes moved over the room, catching on their laughter, their easy closeness, the quiet intimacy she wasn’t part of. Hands brushed. Voices lowered. Smiles were shared.
No one looked back at her.
Not once.
Something tight and ugly coiled in my chest. It wasn’t just that they didn’t see her. It was that she’d already learned not to expect them to.
And for the first time, the thought struck hard and unwelcome. She was used to being overlooked.
Anger flared, sharp and vicious. Why was no one talking to her? She’d brought those damn cookies, smiled at anyone who drifted close, stood there open and trying, and they hadn’t even touched them. They weren’t distracted.
They were avoiding her. Like she didn’t belong there at all. And she just stood there, shoulders drawn in, pretending it didn’t hurt.
Before I could move, she gathered the cookies and closed her fingers around her amulet. Then she vanished in a spill of star mist.
No one noticed.
Not a single head turned.
Elowyn, their queen, left with tears in her eyes, and not one of those bastards so much as looked up.
By the time I got to the house, the lights were dim, the air heavy with that silence that only comes after crying. Her cookies were in the trash, and it made guilt tighten my chest. Then I heard it—soft, broken sniffling coming from the bedroom. Each sound hit me like a blade twisting deeper into my chest. I stepped carefully down the hall, not wanting to startle her, but the damn floorboard betrayed me, creaking under my weight.
“Abram?” she called softly, voice raw.
“Yeah, it’s me.” I stepped into the doorway. She was standing by the dresser, wiping her face in a hurry, pretending she hadn’t been crying.
“I didn’t know you were home,” she said lightly, her voice cracking just enough to ruin the act.
“I just got here,” I lied. “How was your gathering?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Oh, it was great.” Another lie, and this one broke me more than the tears.
I swallowed hard, realizing she didn’t even feel safe telling me the truth.
“What was the gathering, anything special?” I asked, slipping my boots off to buy her a little time.
“Couples night,” she whispered.
Couples night, and she was alone.
My chest tightened.
“El…” I breathed, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Don’t worry about me,” she cut in quickly, voice thin. “I was so busy I didn’t notice I was there alone.”
She was lying and not even trying to do it well. She just didn’t want me to feel bad.
“Della wanted to know if you’d like to come to dinner at their house in a few days,” I said it like a peace offering, hoping it might make her smile again.
Her head lifted, eyes bright with sudden excitement. “With you?” she asked, too hopefully.
I froze. I knew exactly what she meant, what shewantedthat question to mean. She thought I’d told Della about us. Guilt hit me so hard I nearly took the words back.
“No, separately,” I said softly, hating myself the moment the words left my mouth.
