Chapter 42
The silence that followed the video was deafening. On the large screen, the truth looped: Seren lunging for Amara’s phone, missing, and deliberately throwing herself against the edge of the table to create a scene.
Her scream of “No! Don’t call him! Ouch!” echoed through the lobby speakers, sounding more like a rehearsal than a cry for help.
The reporters lowered their cameras, the frantic clicking replaced by judgmental murmurs.
Amara stepped forward, her heels clicking on the marble like a death knell. “Seb, I’ve long cut ties with you,” she said, her voice echoing. “Your daughter came to my home demanding tuition money. When I refused to be your personal bank, she threw a fit. Do you think that’s okay p>
Seb’s face turned a sickly shade of grey. He turned slowly toward Elara, who was suddenly very busy trying to avoid everyone’s gaze. “What? You actually had Seren ask her for money p>
“Well… for the tuition… I asked, but Elara stammered, her polished facade finally cracking. She looked at the floor, unable to finish the sentence.
Seb closed his eyes, his head bowing. Once again, he felt like the biggest fool in the world. He had deleted his memories, insulted the woman he once loved, and brought a swarm of press, all to defend a lie manufactured by his own wife.
“So it turns out their kid was lying,” one reporter muttered, scribbling furiously in a notebook.
“Luckily, Ms. Piers’s house has cameras,” another added, shaking her head. “Or they would have ruined her. Imagine framing someone for hurting a child just for some tuition cash p>
“Wow,” a third reporter scoffed, tucking his microphone away. “I didn’t expect the Creeds to be so broke they’re short of even $2 million. What a joke. Let’s go, there’s nothing more to see here but a sinking ship p>
As the crowd of reporters began to disperse, talking loudly about the scandal they were about to publish, the lobby felt cavernous and cold.
Amara stood alone in the center of the room, looking down at the broken family before her, the family she thought was hers. Seb looked up at her, his eyes red and brimming with a desperate, pathetic regret. He opened his mouth to speak, to apologize, to beg, to explain, but the words died in his throat.
Amara didn’t wait for them. She looked at her secretary. “Call maintenance. I want the lobby floors scrubbed. It feels… dirty in here p>
“Amara. I’m sorry. I misunderstood you again.” Seb said, ashamed again.
“I won’t accept your apology. Stay as far away from me as possible. Don’t bother me again.” Amara said, then turned her back on them without another word, walking toward the private elevator.
“Make sure no member of the creed family enters here again,” Amara said to her assistant.
“Okay, Ms. Piers.” She replied.
The streetlights had just hummed to life, casting a cold, artificial glow over the pavement as Amara stepped out of the building. Amara was exhausted, but it was a clean kind of tired, the kind that came from finally clearing the air.
Until she saw him.
Seb was leaning against a streetlamp across from the entrance, looking disheveled and broken. When he saw her, he straightened up immediately, moving toward her like a shadow.
“What do you want?” Amara demanded, not stopping her pace. Her keys were already gripped between her fingers.
“Can we… talk?” Seb asked, his voice cracking. He stepped into her path, forcing her to halt. “Amara, I’m sorry. I was wrong about everything. I see now what she’s doing. If I divorce Elara… if I leave her for good… would you forgive me? Could we start over p>
Amara looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked pathetic. The man she once thought was her protector was now just a shell of mistakes and bad timing.
“No,” she said, her voice flat and final. “I won’t forgive you, Seb. Not today, not after a divorce, not ever p>
She paused, a question that had been rotting in the back of her mind for weeks finally surfacing. “But I’m curious. You know, Elara harmed our baby back then. You know what she’s capable of. So why? Why did you protect her all this time p>
Seb flinched as if the word baby was a physical blow. He looked down at his shoes, his hands trembling in his pockets.
“I didn’t think I was protecting her,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the distant city traffic. “I thought I was protecting another baby. I was a coward, Amara. I thought if I stayed with the lie, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I let the person I loved most down p>
“I see,” Amara said, her voice rising with a sudden, sharp edge. “You protected her baby but not ours. You chose the easy lie over the hard truth every single time. And today, you even deleted our photos, the last proof that I ever mattered to you, just to satisfy another one of her lies. So why do you keep coming back p>
Seb reached out, his hand hovering near her sleeve, but he didn’t dare touch her. ” Amara, please, I love you.. Elara, she p>
Amara stopped in her tracks. She didn’t turn around at first; she just let his words hang in the cool night air.
“She’s my savior,” Seb said, his voice thick with a twisted sense of loyalty. “Seven years ago… remember that car accident? She risked everything to save me. I owed her my life, Amara. I had to choose her p>
Amara stood perfectly still. Then, a low, bitter laugh bubbled up from her throat. It started as a chuckle and grew into a cold, melodic sound that made Seb flinch. It was the laugh of someone watching a tragic comedy reach its final, pathetic act.
“Elara isn’t your savior, Seb,” she said, finally turning to face him.
Seb’s face contorted in confusion. “What? If it wasn’t Elara, who was it? Amara, do you know something p>
Amara looked at him, and for a fleeting second, she saw the girl she used to be. That girl had pulled him from a mangled, smoking wreck. That girl had dragged his unconscious body across broken glass and gasoline until her hands bled. That girl had spent months in a hospital bed recovering from internal injuries so severe that the doctors told her she would never carry a child of her own.
She hadn’t told him back then because she loved him too much. He used to hold her hand and tell her never to do anything risky, that he couldn’t live if she were in danger. She had kept the secret to protect him from the guilt of knowing she had sacrificed her future motherhood to keep him breathing.
But standing here now, looking at the man who had just accused her of hurting a child, she realized her silence hadn’t been an act of love. It had been an act of self-destruction.
What we had wasn’t love, she thought, her eyes tracking a stray tear falling down Seb’s cheek. Love doesn’t trade ten years for a debt that was never real.
“Amara, tell me!” Seb stepped forward, his eyes wide. “Who was it p>