POV Keith
I turn to see Ella just standing there, looking at Eliana and me. Wasn't she just with Grandpa?
I feel the first flickers of frustration. Yes, we are married, but does she have to follow me around? It's not like we have much of a relationship. Can't I help an old friend who stumbles beside me? Can't I even talk to her sister now?
My hands fist.
Then I see her expression. Something is wrong. I can tell that right away.
I have never seen a person look so pale before.
She just stands there, unmoving.
I see aunt Imogene coming our way and start to step towards them.
CRACK!
Imogene grabs Ella and slaps her — hard. The sound echoes, before I can even register what happened. Her head whips to the side. Behind Imogene, I see my mother, who is just as shocked. She rushes forward.
Ella just stands there.
Imogene raises her hand again, and I can't help myself.
"STOP!" I roar.
I rush toward them, ready to intervene, but my mother reaches there first. She grabs Imogene's hand and wrestles her to the side.
"Are you insane?!" she shouts.
"This bitch lost me the heirship of Ingram!" Imogene screams. "I will kill her!" Imogene struggles against my mother's grip, but by then the staff and security have intervened to hold her back. I'm furious. How dare she!
Ella has fallen to the ground. She just sits there, as if waiting to be hit again.
My heart aches. No one should be ambushed like that. And if anyone is innocent in all of our scheming, it's Ella. She might not be perfect, but she didn't deserve this. I can at least acknowledge that much.
I crouch next to Ella and gently lift her up.
Her skin is so cold.
I bring her to the side, and seat her on the bench. Her cheek is bruised and starting to swell. Her lip has split and is bleeding. And yet, it's her eyes that cause a sliver of worry to crack the walls around my heart.
They are absolutely vacant. Like the pain is too much to bear. I feel my chest squeeze.
"Are you alright?" I ask as gently as I can.
She doesn't reply. She just sits there, numb to the world.
Imogene frees herself from everyone, and moves towards Ella again. I see red.
"If you take one more step towards her, I will forget that you're family." I speak coldly, letting her know I mean every word.
She scoffs; but she stops. "As if! You can't even admit she's your wife. You think I don't know how much you hate her?" I have never seen Imogene look this deranged.
"You damned hypocrite! You and Father can be as cruel to her as you like, but if I so much as touch a hair on her, I'm not family?!" She spits on the floor.
Everyone looks shocked and at a loss.
I feel something I haven't felt in a long time. Shame.
No one moves to care for Ella.
Where is Eliana? I start to look around. I should entrust her care to her sister, but she isn't here. I turn to stare at Imogene again.
"I don't care what you think, or what you have to say! You know how Grandpa rules. If you wanted Ingram, you should have found a way to get him JB Tech. You should have done better. You should have BEEN better. Stop taking it out on others!"
"Been better!" she screams. "I was better than your Dad! I dedicated my entire life to Ingram! I deserve to be heir more than anyone else! How dare you speak to me like that!"
She raises her hand to strike me, and I catch it. I look her square in the eye, but speak loudly enough to make sure everyone can hear.
"I want you all to know. Ella is MY wife. If anyone so much as blinks wrong in her direction, you will have to deal with me. And I won't give second chances."
I see the fight leave Imogene. I drop her hand, and she takes a step back.
"You'll regret this." She whispers. Then she looks at everyone, her gaze lingering on Ella before shifting to mine. "You'll all regret this. I'll make sure of it." She turns around and walks away, leaving stunned disbelief in her wake.
What the hell just happened?!
I look towards my mother, and catch her staring at Ella, a thoughtful yet unpleasant expression on her face.
It's time to get Ella away from here.
I dismiss the rest of the staff and return to Ella.
I go to help her up, but she flinches away from me.
She's afraid of me. That hurts more than I expected it to.
She gets up on her own, on unsteady feet.
Her eyes are still dry. She doesn't make a sound. She looks around, as if taking stock of the situation, and then turns right towards the exit.
She starts walking, tottering forward on high heels.
I suddenly recall her red sneakers on our wedding day. She is uncomfortable in high heels.
I move to walk behind her.
She stumbles, nearly faceplanting before catching herself.
She stoops then, fiddles with the straps of her shoes and pulls them off. And leaves them right there.
I pick them up behind her.
She walks on, barefoot.
Her demeanor causes something to resonate within me. I feel like I'm seeing her for the first time.
This woman has done her utmost to maintain her composure since the first day we met. Even in the face of unpleasant circumstances, she has behaved more maturely than most women would.
I remember her kind consideration of Joan.
I recollect my behaviour this morning. My complicity in Kat's razing. My allowing for misunderstandings to persist. My abandonment of her to Grandpa's ruthless presence. My preoccupation with Eliana.
All so I could maintain my distance. Continue blaming her, resenting her instead of Grandpa, her father, myself.
I grimace. What happened today was at least partially, if not entirely my fault. I could have protected her. I should have protected her.
She would be right to blame me.
Why do you hate me? Her words echo in my ears.
I don't hate you, I said. Yet I treat you like dirt.
Johnson stands by the door, a blanket in one hand, and an ice pack in the other.
"Miss Ella, are you alright?!" Johnson's voice is genuinely anguished, old eyes creased with worry. He reaches for her, but stills when he sees her tense. He cautiously approaches her, and gently wraps her in the blanket. He offers her the ice pack, but she just shakes her head, clutching the blanket closer.
Her shoulders relax slightly and for the first time, she feels more present.
"Thank you," she whispers, barely able to move her mouth. Her voice cracks. "Can you call me a cab?"
Johnson looks at me then, eyes filled with questions. I shake my head. I'll take Ella home. I can do that much for her. Maybe even her father's house if she wishes.
"Miss, I.."
"Please." That one whispered word holds more desperation and hopelessness than I've ever heard. Like she expects her request to be denied, but sees no other way out but to ask.
Johnson's eyes shine, and he straightens his back. He nods to himself, as if coming to a decision.
"Of course, Miss." He gently leads her to a chair in the lobby.
He spots a young kitchen hand walking by and shouts, "Vale! get a cab here A.S.A.P!"
I don't have the heart to force him to do my bidding.
The boy rushes by. I wait in silence, feeling completely unneeded. Johnson speaks to Ella in soothing tones, telling her random things. Ella nods sometimes, but seems to drift away into herself far more often.
I want to say something. Apologise. Comfort her. But I can't seem to find the words.
I remember the taste of the pancakes she made just this morning. Her expectation of judgment. Her joy at my delight.
She's been trying so hard to make things work between us.
I don't have to like her just because she tries.
But you don't have to be an absolute asshole to discourage her either.
I remember how I threw her allowance card at her and wince. I was no better than Kat, or Imogene, or Mom.. Or even Grandpa.
I feel my heart sink at that realization. I have always hated how all of them clamoured for advantage over others at all costs, including me.
Aren't we in this situation, in fact, because of this attitude to begin with?
I hate how they treat the staff. How they treated us as children. I had vowed to never be like them. I made sure to treat all our staff with the dignity they deserved.
And yet, here we are.
I stare at Ella, waiting for her cab. Her cheek is now an ugly purple color, and her eye's swelling too. She's going to have a black-eye soon.
I see Vale return with the cab, and start towards her.
"Where are you going?" I hear the cold voice of Grandpa behind me, stopping me cold.
I turn to find him staring at Ella like she is an insect he would rather squash. Dread fills my stomach.
"You need to be at lunch. Don't make me tell you again." He turns around and walks away, not waiting for an answer.
I hesitate — just for a second.
I turn around, only to find Ella sitting in the cab, draped in the blanket. She looks small, hunched as she is. Her fragility makes my heart thump harder.
For the second time today, I feel like I've lost something precious as she speeds away — not a backward glance to spare.