The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 46 Eleanor POV "Mia, I'm going to make a quick arrangement before I leave," I said, already pulling blue hydrangeas and white roses from our refrigerated case. The blue reminded me of the cold clarity in Derek's eyes, the white of the stark emptiness between us. 'Special customer?" Mia asked, curiosity evident in her voice. "Something like that," I murmured, focusing intently on the arrangement. As I wrapped the bouquet in simple brown paper tied with twine, I caught a glimpse of myself in the shop window. I looked nervous, my cheeks flushed with anticipation.

I quickly applied some lip balm and fluffed my hair, then spritzed on a touch of the perfume I reserved for special occasions. "I'm just going to deliver these, then head home," I told Mia, who raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. In the Uber to Frontier Capital, I practiced what I would say. "I was in the neighborhood. Thought you might like some flowers for your office. Just wanted to say hello." Each explanation sounded more pathetic than the last. The Frontier Capital building rose like a gleaming spire in Boston's financial district, all glass and polished steel.

I clutched the flowers against my chest, suddenly feeling very small and very foolish. What was I doing here? Derek would probably be annoyed at the interruption, or worse, amused at my transparent attempt to see him. But I was already here. Pride made me step through the revolving doors into the marble-floored lobby. The receptionist looked up with a professional smile. "Good evening. May I help you?" "I'm here to see Derek Wells," I said, trying to sound confident. "I'm his-" The word 'wife' stuck in my throat. "I'm Eleanor Wells." Recognition flickered in her eyes.

"Do you have an appointment, Mrs. Wells?" As she reached for the phone, the elevator doors opened, and several people exited. Among them was Alan, Derek's assistant, who was pulling on his coat while checking something on his phone. He glanced up and noticed me immediately. "Mrs. Wells!" His surprise seemed genuine. "This is unexpected." "Hello, Alan. I was hoping to see Derek for a moment." 1/4 Alan's expression shifted to something like sympathy. "I'm afraid Mr. Wells isn't here. He flew to New York this morning for meetings." "New York?" I repeated, the flowers suddenly heavy in my arms.

"Yes, it was a last-minute decision. Some private investment matters that required his personal attention." Alan hesitated. "He asked me to handle things here while he's away." "I see. My voice sounded distant to my own ears. "Did he mention when he'd return?" "No specific date. The negotiations might take a few days." Alan gestured to the flowers. "Would you like me to put those in his office for when he returns?" I looked down at the carefully arranged bouquet, the blue hydrangeas already beginning to droop slightly in the warm lobby air.

"Yes, thank you." Alan took the flowers, his expression kind. "I'm just heading out. Would you like a ride home, Mrs. Wells? My car is in the garage." I nodded, suddenly exhausted. "That would be very kind, thank you." In Alan's sleek BMW, I sat stiffly, staring out at the Boston streets as they blurred past. Derek had gone to New York without telling me. While I was lying awake last night, replaying our almost-intimacy, he'd been planning his escape. Again. My phone felt heavy in my hand. I should just let it go. Accept that Derek wanted distance.

But some masochistic impulse made me dial his number. To my surprise, he answered on the third ring. "Eleanor." His voice was clipped, professional. In the background, I could hear the murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses. I opened my mouth to speak, but then I heard a woman's laugh-bright, melodic, and unmistakable. Seraphina Bradley. The sound pierced through me like an ice pick to the heart. "I- My voice failed me. "Never mind. It's not important." I ended the call before he could respond, my hand shaking slightly.

"Everything okay?" Alan asked, his eyes flicking briefly from the road to my face. "Fine," I managed, staring down at my phone. I sent one final text: Sorry to bother you. Have a good trip. Delivered. Unread. Like the other three messages I'd sent in the past 24 hours. I slipped the phone back into my purse, my chest tight with an emotion I refused to name. 2/4 When Alan's car pulled up outside my Beacon Hill apartment, I thanked him automatically, my mind still replaying the sound of Seraphina's laughter. "Mrs. Wells?" Alan's voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to him, forcing a smile.

"Yes?" Alan hesitated, then asked softly, "Is there anything else you need?" The question, asked with such genuine concern, nearly broke my carefully maintained composure. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Do you think I'm prettier than Seraphina Bradley?" Shock flashed across Alan's face, followed by uncomfortable embarrassment. "I... You're very beautiful, Mrs. Wells." I laughed, a hollow sound. "But not as beautiful as she is? Is that why Derek loves her more?" Alan's discomfort was palpable. "Mrs. Wells, I don't think-" "That was her, wasn't it?

The woman laughing in the background of Derek's call?" "I really couldn't say-" I waved away his polite evasion. "It's fine, Alan. You don't have to answer. I apologize for putting you in an awkward position." I stepped out of the car, the cool evening air a welcome relief against my burning cheeks. What was wrong with me? I was behaving like a jealous teenager, not a grown woman about to end a loveless marriage. "Thank you for the ride, Alan. Please forget my inappropriate questions." He nodded, looking relieved. "Goodnight, Mrs.

Wells." As his car pulled away, I stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the darkened windows of our apartment. The stars were hidden behind Boston's light pollution, the sky a flat, featureless black. I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. This emotional spiral was exactly what I had promised myself I wouldn't do. Derek was under no obligation to tell me his plans or explain his whereabouts. He owed me nothing. Our marriage had always had an expiration date, a fact I'd known from the beginning.

Now that date was approaching, and it was time to prepare myself for the end, not cling desperately to something that had never really existed. No more pathetic text messages. No more surprise visits to his office. No more late-night kisses when he was asleep and couldn't reject 3/4 It was time to start the countdown to divorce, to freedom-for both of us. With that resolve, I squared my shoulders and walked into the building, leaving my foolish hopes on the darkened street behind me.

Comments RVisitor 1 Comments > so once again he's dipped out of town and couldn't have the respect of saying he's leaving town. 7 days ago 5 4 < SHARE 61 4/4 Ruby Walker Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby's writing style is bold and irresistible-perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.