He found me crying in the closet. And he reminded me exactly who I belonged to.
After Kairos left her room—after his reassurances that she wanted desperately to believe—Elara found herself back in the closet. Surrounded by beautiful clothes she hadn't chosen. Staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror mounted on the back wall.
Isabella's words played on repeat.
After childbirth, most women let themselves go.
Things sag.
What he's settling for.
She'd tried to hold it together. Tried to let Kairos's fierce defense shore up her crumbling self-image. But alone in this closet full of evidence of who she was supposed to be, the tears came anyway.
Silent at first. Then harder. Until she was sitting on the closet floor, knees pulled to her chest, crying into her hands like a child.
This was pathetic. She knew it was pathetic. Isabella had gotten exactly what she wanted—Elara broken and doubting and feeling inadequate.
But knowing that didn't stop the tears.
