Chapter 9
Inside the quiet, luxurious confines of the bridal suite, the air was thick with unspoken grief. Clara sat rigidly on the edge of a velvet settee, still wearing her heavy wedding gown, staring blankly at the ornate floral arrangement on the coffee table. Julian stood near the tall windows looking out into the darkened courtyard, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his grey vest. "I'm sorry," Julian whispered, breaking the heavy silence for the fifth time in ten minutes. Clara didn't look up, her voice frighteningly flat when she finally spoke. "Sorry that you lied, or sorry that you got caught?" Julian winced as if struck physically, turning back to face her. "Both, Clara. Mostly because I risked losing the only real, honest thing I've ever had in my life." Clara finally raised her eyes, meeting his gaze with a look of profound exhaustion. "Honest? You built our entire relationship on an omission the size of a mountain, Julian. You let me walk down that aisle believing we were starting fresh, while carrying a three-hundred-thousand-dollar time bomb."
A soft knock interrupted them before Julian could reply. The door clicked open an inch, and Chloe peeked in, looking like a ghost in her dark purple bridesmaid dress. "Can I... can I come in?" she asked hesitantly. Clara nodded slowly, gesturing to a velvet armchair across from the settee. Chloe stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her, feeling like an intruder in a room where her presence had caused so much damage. "I'm the one who should take the blame," Chloe said quietly, looking down at her hands. "Julian wanted to tell you months ago, but I convinced him to wait until the financial audit was cleared. I thought I was protecting your happiness, Clara. I was just protecting my own ego, wanting everything to look perfect." Clara let out a dry, humorless laugh, shaking her head. "Perfection. Is that what all of this was about? Putting on a show for people who wouldn't even remember what we served for dinner in five years?"
