Chapter 10: The Distance Between Us

The days leading up to the engagement dinner moved quickly, filled with meetings, fittings, and endless arrangements. Both families seemed determined to present the impending union as the perfect alliance between two of the most powerful dynasties in the world. Alice could feel the weight of their expectations on her shoulders, but her mind was elsewhere—constantly drifting back to that conversation with Elliot, where he had laid everything bare.

She had chosen to stay. She had made her decision. Yet every passing day felt like a reminder of the distance that now existed between them. The Elliot she had rejected was long gone, and in his place stood someone she barely recognized.

Their scheduled meetings had become routine, clinical. They met as planned, discussed the logistics of the wedding, the merger of their families, and the financial implications of their union. But nothing more. There were no lingering conversations, no stolen moments of warmth. Just business.

Alice found herself longing for something—anything—that might break through the coldness between them. She wanted to connect with him, to understand the man he had become. But every attempt seemed to fall flat, met with the same calm indifference that had become his shield.

One afternoon, a week before the engagement dinner, they met in the Moriarty library, the grandest room in the mansion. The shelves were lined with volumes of history, business strategy, and philosophy, a reflection of the Moriarty family's legacy of power and intellect. Elliot stood near one of the windows, his back turned to her as he looked out over the sprawling estate.

"I thought we could review the guest list for the dinner," Alice began, trying to keep her tone light, as if things were still normal between them.

Elliot nodded, his attention still focused on the view outside. "Go ahead."

Alice pulled out the list, but her mind wasn't on the task. She glanced at Elliot, standing there so composed, so unreachable. How did it come to this? she wondered, her heart heavy with regret. There was so much left unsaid between them, so much that she had ignored before.

"Elliot," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why do you hate me?"

The question slipped out before she could stop it, the words raw and vulnerable. For a moment, there was silence, the weight of her confession hanging in the air. She half-expected him to brush it off, to tell her that he didn't hate her, that it was all just business now. But when Elliot finally turned to face her, there was something in his eyes—something deeper, more complicated.

"I don't hate you, Alice," he said, his voice low and measured. "I never did."

She felt her chest tighten. "Then why do you act like you don't care anymore? Like I'm just another piece of the puzzle?"

Elliot sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture she hadn't seen in a long time. "Because I've learned not to care the way I used to. You pushed me away, Alice. I spent years trying to win your approval, to get you to see me as more than just the fool you thought I was. And every time, you shut me down."

Alice opened her mouth to speak, but he continued before she could respond.

"I don't blame you," he said, his tone softening slightly. "I was naive back then. I thought that if I just tried hard enough, if I just loved you enough, you would change your mind. But I was wrong. And I learned the hard way that caring too much only leads to pain."

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. She had never thought of it that way—had never considered how much her rejections might have hurt him. In her mind, she had always been the one in control, the one who had the power to decide whether or not they would be together. But Elliot's transformation had changed the dynamic entirely. Now, she was the one left chasing after something that was no longer there.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I didn't realize..."

Elliot shook his head. "It's in the past. I'm not the same person anymore, Alice. And neither are you."

She swallowed hard, feeling the sting of his words. He was right. They had both changed, in ways neither of them could have predicted. But even as she accepted that reality, a part of her still longed for the connection they had lost.

"I just... I just wish things could be different," she admitted, her voice trembling.

Elliot's gaze softened, but only for a moment. "So do I. But this is where we are now. And we have to move forward."

Alice bit her lip, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She wanted to argue, to plead with him to try again, to see if they could rebuild something from the ruins of their past. But she knew it would be futile. Elliot had made up his mind, and there was no going back.

"We're getting married," he said, his voice steady and controlled. "But it's not going to be the marriage you once rejected. This is a partnership now. And that's all it will ever be."

Alice nodded, her heart aching with the weight of his words. She had always thought that if she ever changed her mind, Elliot would still be there, waiting for her, ready to pick up where they had left off. But she had been wrong. He had moved on, and now she had to live with the consequences of her choices.

As Elliot turned back to the window, Alice stood up, the papers in her hand feeling heavier than they should. She had come to this meeting hoping for something—some sign that the old Elliot was still there, that there was still a chance for them to rekindle what had once been lost. But all she found was the cold reality of the future they had chosen.

She paused at the door, her hand resting on the handle. "Elliot," she said, her voice barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

He didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge her words. Instead, his voice came quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "You already have."

And with that, Alice stepped out of the room, the door closing softly behind her, sealing the distance that now seemed impossible to bridge.