ELIJAH'S POV
I stood in my bedroom staring at the black suit laid out on my bed like a corpse. The fabric was expensive, tailored perfectly to my frame, and it made me sick to look at it. Mother had dropped it there without a word after our conversation went sideways.
"Are you showing up to the Sutton house to help them grieve?" she'd asked me earlier, her voice sharp with that particular brand of disappointment she'd perfected over the years. "You are married to Deborah after all."
I'd told her I had other things to plan. More important things than playing the grieving son-in-law to a man who'd tried to destroy me.
The look on her face had been worth it. Pure disgust mixed with something that looked like shame.
"I and Charlotte will be going to cover for your pathetic ass," she'd said, her voice getting colder with each word. "I really hope you see the light, Elijah. You're not infallible."
