Chapter Six

Elysia's POV

The somber notes of the funeral march still echo in my ears as I fumble with the hotel keycard. My hands shake, and I drop it twice before finally managing to slide it into the slot. The light blinks green, and I stumble inside, letting the door slam shut behind me.

I lean against it, my breath coming in short gasps. "Pull yourself together, Elysia," I mutter, but the words feel hollow in the empty room.

My suitcase lies open on the bed, clothes spilling out haphazardly. I should pack. I need to pack. Grandpa's mansion awaits, a looming presence in my mind.

"You can do this," I say, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. It cracks instead, and I feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over.

I moved to the suitcase, picking up a black dress – the one I wore to the funeral. My fingers clench around the fabric, and suddenly, I'm furious. I ball it up and throw it across the room with a strangled cry.

A knock at the door makes me jump. "Miss? Is everything alright there?" It's probably housekeeping.

"Fine!" I call back, my voice unnaturally high. "Everything's fine!"

But it's not. Nothing is fine. Grandpa is gone, and now I have to move into his massive, empty house. Alone. 

I sink to the floor, my back against the bed, and pull my knees to my chest. The tears come freely now, hot and bitter.

My phone buzzes. A text from Sam: "Are you packed yet? The car will be there in an hour."

I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over the reply button. What can I say? That I'm not ready? That I don't want to go?

Instead, I type: "Almost done. See you soon."

Ok, maybe not alone. alone. Sam would be there with me till I can get myself together. I let out a sigh. Thinking about it now, It isn't as comforting as it was when I first thought about it.

I hit send and let the phone clatter to the floor. An hour. I have an hour to pull myself together and face my new reality.

But before that, I had somewhere else to be. I packed what was left of my stuff and started towards the elevator to the main lobby, an overwhelming feeling of ennui overshadowing me.

For some unknown reason, I decided to take a walk.

I rushed down the bustling city street, my heels clicking against the pavement. Alex Fisher's office was a few blocks ahead, a stark glass and steel structure that seemed to pierce the sky. My heart races, but not from the brisk walk.

I was going to sign my marriage certificate- the beginning of a new sphere of my life.

"He'll be there," I whisper to myself, trying to quell the butterflies in my stomach. "He has to be."

I push through the revolving door, stumbling slightly as I enter the cool, air-conditioned lobby. 

The receptionist looks up, her perfectly manicured eyebrow arching.

"Elysia Moore," I say, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat and try again. "I have an appointment with Mr. Fisher."

She nods, tapping away at her keyboard. "Fifteenth floor. He's expecting you."

The elevator ride feels endless. I smooth down my dress and check my reflection in the mirrored walls. Will he like this outfit? Does my hair look okay?

The doors slide open with a soft ding. I step out, my eyes immediately scanning the room. My heart sinks.

He's not here.

Mr. Fisher stands to greet me, clothed in a crisp white three-piece suit. "Miss Moore, thank you for coming on such short notice."

"Of course," I reply automatically, still glancing around. "I thought... isn't anyone else joining us?"

The lawyer's brow furrows, "No, I'm afraid not. This is a private matter concerning your grandfather's estate and your impending marriage."

I sink into the chair across from his desk, disappointment washing over me. "Oh. I see."

Mr. Fisher shuffles some papers, oblivious to my internal turmoil. "Now, about the conditions of your inheritance..."

But I'm barely listening. My mind races. Why isn't he here? Did he change his mind? He wasn't at the funnel and now he isn't going to be here to sign the certificate with me?

"Miss Moore?" Mr. Fisher's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Are you alright?"

I blink, focusing on the concerned face of the lawyer. "Yes, I'm sorry. You were saying?"

As Mr. Fisher launches into legal jargon, I can't shake the feeling that something's not right. Why did I expect him to be here? And more importantly, why does his absence leave me feeling so... empty?

He thrusts a few papers to me and I stare at the papers in front of me, my vision blurring slightly. The lawyer's voice drones on, but I can barely focus on his words.

"Miss Moore?" Mr. Fisher's voice cuts through my haze again. "Are you listening?"

I blink rapidly, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "Yes, of course. Please continue."

He clears his throat. "As I was saying, Mr. Roland Weber is currently away on business. He sends his apologies for not being able to attend this meeting."

My heart thanks to my stomach. 'So, he's not coming?"

"No, I'm afraid not. But he assures me he'll return soon." Mr. Fisher pushes a document towards me. "Now, if you could just sign here..."

I stare at the inheritance claim first, and then the marriage certificate, the words swimming before my eyes. Why isn't he here for this? Why hasn't he been around for anything?

"Is everything alright, Miss Moore?" Mr. Fisher asks, concern etching his features.

I force a smile. "Yes, fine. Just... overwhelmed, I suppose."

Without really reading it, I scrawl my signature on the dotted line. What does it matter anyway? Roland's not here, and I'm signing my life away to a man who couldn't even bother to show up.

"Excellent," Mr. Fisher beams, collecting the papers. "Now, about moving into the mansion..."

"I know about that already?" I interrupt, suddenly desperate to get out of this stifling office.

He blinks, taken aback. "Well, when would you like to move in? It could be immediately if you'd like. The staff has been informed of your arrival."

"Perfect," I say, standing abruptly. "I'll head there now."

As I leave the office, my mind races. The mansion looms in my imagination, a sprawling, empty labyrinth waiting to swallow me whole. 

I step out onto the busy street, the noise and bustle a stark contrast to the quiet dread settling in my stomach. The mansion awaits, and with it, a future I'm no longer sure I want.

But what choice do I have now?