Chapter 4

William’s offhand comment left Elsie stunned for what felt like forever. If she’d still harbored the tiniest bit of hope last night, well, this moment completely crushed it. Trying to win his love? Yeah, she could forget about it. A heavy lump sat in her chest, making it hard to even get a word out. Her heart... it was just getting colder. Margaret stood up and gave her a sidelong glance before smiling at her son. "Since you're free this afternoon, why don’t you go keep Grace company for me?" "Okay," William replied casually. Hearing his response, Elsie pressed her lips together and bit hard, still saying nothing. William glanced toward her still figure beside the sofa, his eyes growing darker. As he turned to head back to the study, Margaret shifted to eye Elsie, sneering, "Back in the day, if William was off to see Grace, you'd be panicking all over the place. But today, look how calm you are." "Anyway, William loves your mac and cheese the most, remember? Go make him some for lunch." Elsie nodded silently, thinking to herself—this wasn’t her being obedient. It's just that... she’d finally figured things out. After Grandpa passed, they’d let go quite a few of the old staff, and now only Nancy stayed in the kitchen. It brought back memories—when she first came to live with the Hardings as a kid, she’d been anxious all the time, barely dared to eat. Nancy was the one who always secretly saved some food for her, just in case she went to bed hungry. When Elsie walked in, Nancy was in the middle of prepping, her face lighting up when she saw her. "Isn’t it funny? Use the same recipe, but Mr. Harding only likes your mac and cheese." "Nothing beats a wife's cooking, huh?" Normally, Elsie would blush at comments like that, but today, she just felt awkward. "Don’t tease me… I learned it all from you, remember?" Nancy chuckled, assuming Elsie was just being modest. She didn’t push it. But come mealtime, Nancy made a point to say it anyway, her voice extra cheerful: "The mac and cheese today is made just for you by Mrs. Harding herself! Bet there won’t be any leftovers this time!" Just as William was pulling out his chair, he paused and looked over at Elsie. Feeling the weight of his gaze, Elsie lowered her head quickly, flustered. "Nancy, you should hurry and eat too." Nancy, catching the awkward mood, grinned knowingly and left. At the table, Thomas casually asked Elsie a couple questions about her work. She knew he wasn’t truly interested, so she replied politely and briefly. Then came Margaret’s scoff. "Doesn’t matter how nice you make it sound. You’re just an actress—bottom of the barrel. Our Harding family didn’t raise you up, teach you all those languages, those skills in music, chess, painting, for you to run off into showbiz and embarrass yourself." "Look at Grace. Elegant and well-bred. She’s been learning proper etiquette since she was little. She’d never choose to act and throw our name around like that. If only William had married her instead..." William frowned and was just about to cut in when Elsie calmly set down her fork and said—her tone soft but sharp, "But mom, didn’t you know? Grace just signed with Central Entertainment. She’s entering drama herself now. So by your logic, she’s part of the same 'bottom of the barrel’ too, right?" That was the first time Elsie had directly talked back to Margaret. Caught completely off-guard, Margaret froze, her expression turning absolutely sour. And William? The corner of his mouth lifted in amusement. "Didn’t think you had that kind of bite in you." Elsie assumed he was mocking her, but seeing the smile in his eyes, she couldn’t tell anymore. She stayed quiet, just thinking—this was who she really was. She’d only learned to play nice because she’d grown up under someone else’s roof. And back then... she never fought back because William used to stand up for her. But now? He had let go of her hand. So she had no choice but to learn how to protect herself. Thinking about it now made Elsie’s chest tighten. Her appetite vanished, despite the generous spread Nancy Johnson had prepared. Still, the older folks were far from done eating, so she pushed food around her plate, barely touching it. Then, suddenly, a small plate slid in front of her—a neatly arranged portion of grilled salmon, skin crisped, bones removed. Elsie looked up, startled. William was watching her with a slight frown. “You here to eat or just rearrange your food?” he said. “There's hardly anything on your plate.” Without waiting for a reply, he set down another small plate—this time with roasted carrots and a spoonful of the creamy mashed potatoes she loved. He was sitting pretty close while he did it. In the past, just this kind of attention from him would’ve sent her heart racing uncontrollably. Even now, after all her hopes had crumbled, deep down her heart still fluttered—but she'd learned to keep it in check. She quietly leaned back, putting some distance between them, then gave a polite nod. “Thanks.” William’s hand paused mid-air, his expression hardening as her clear attempt to keep her distance hit him like a cold slap. “No need.” Without saying a word, he slid the plate toward Margaret and let it rest in front of her. The mac and cheese she’d specially made for him? He didn’t touch it—not even once. Elsie noticed everything. She used to be young and naive, falling head over heels for William’s charm. But now, she finally got it. William had always been a decent guy—he treated everyone well, not just her. She’d been the fool. Just because someone showed her a little kindness, she’d thought it meant something. She’d even been stupid enough to drug him and climb into his bed. Seriously, what a joke. The whole dinner felt bland and tasteless. Margaret left before finishing her meal—it was pretty obvious she just didn’t want to be in the same room as Elsie. Thomas disappeared into the study. The giant living room echoed only with the ticking of the quartz clock and the rustling of William flipping through the newspaper. The vibe was downright suffocating. Elsie was just racking her brain for an excuse to leave when her bestie-slash-manager Olivia Moore called—she needed to be on set that afternoon for a fitting. Just as she hung up, she noticed William typing something on his phone. Elsie was about to speak when William stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I’ll take you to the set,” he said, voice colder than the ticking clock. It wasn’t exactly a request. Elsie thought she’d misheard. He’d been avoiding her like the plague ever since they got married—she’d called him nonstop for over two weeks and he wouldn’t even meet her. And now he suddenly wanted to give her a ride? Her stare made William uncomfortable. His feet awkwardly moved toward the entryway, stiff like he didn’t know how to walk properly. After swallowing hard, he coughed lightly and mumbled, “I have to pick up Grace anyway… same direction.” Elsie froze. So she was just an afterthought. A passenger-by-chance, barely worth noticing. Her chest felt like it’d been punched by something heavy, the pain making her fingers go numb. She stubbornly shook her head. She wouldn’t let herself keep getting walked all over, again and again. “Thanks, but no. Olivia already sent a car.” With that, she brushed past him and walked straight out without a glance back. Just as Eric pulled the car around, he spotted Elsie getting into the waiting car by the curb. Meanwhile, his boss stood at the door, tugging at his tie in frustration and muttering under his breath, “No idea who spoiled her like this.” Eric, completely blind to the brewing storm, kept prodding: “Mr. Harding, didn’t you text saying you’d be taking Mrs. Harding to the set? Why’d she leave in a different car?” “And Mrs. Harding said you were supposed to go with Miss Grace later. So… should we go pick her up now?” The more William listened, the darker his expression became. He stared at the car Elsie had just gotten into, watching it disappear down the road, fury bubbling to the surface. With a loud thud, he kicked the car door and spat through gritted teeth, “Pick—” “Pick up your ass!”