𝑽𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑨 | 𝐓.𝐒 |

𝒙𝒙. 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘

╭──────────.★..─╮

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎. 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 '𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎.

╰─..★.──────────╯

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭, almost hollow, as though everyone knew it wasn't meant to happen. The vows exchanged felt more like a business transaction than a declaration of love. Thomas stood next to Grace at the altar, hands clasped, lips moving through the words, but his mind was elsewhere. His heart...his heart was miles away. No one looked particularly happy about the event. 

Arthur and John watched on with heavy hearts, eyes clouded with discomfort. Even Polly, who stood in the shadows, seemed distant, as if she were waiting for something to break.

After the brief ceremony, the family moved to Arrow House for the after-party. But there was no celebration. Only the muted clinks of glasses, the low murmur of conversation, and the stifling weight of unspoken words. The house that Thomas had once bought with dreams of a different future—a future with Valentina—now held nothing but shadows. It was the home where Grace and their child would live, but Thomas didn't belong there. Not really. Not in the way Grace wanted, or in the way that child deserved.

While the others gathered inside, Thomas slipped away to the balcony, away from the suffocating atmosphere. Alone, he leaned against the railing, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring out into the night. He drank in silence, the burn in his throat doing little to numb the ache in his chest. He chose this. He chose to marry a woman he didn't love, all because he couldn't bear the thought of Valentina leaving. The things he did for love... the sacrifices.

He'd do anything—even marry Grace—just to see Valentina. Even if it was in passing. Just to catch a glimpse of her, a stolen moment across a room. That would be enough, or so he told himself.

Inside the dimly lit hallway of Arrow House, the air was thick with tension. Grace's heels clicked against the marble floors as she moved with purpose, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar faces at the after-party. She hadn't seen Thomas in hours, and the growing unease gnawed at her, her fingers anxiously fidgeting with her wedding ring.

Spotting Polly in the corner, Grace approached her, voice sharp and edged with impatience. "Where's Thomas?"

Polly didn't bother to look up, her calm, indifferent tone cutting through the room. "He's where he always is. Running from what's in front of him."

Grace's brow furrowed in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? I'm his wife now. He should be here. He should—"

Polly finally turned her gaze towards Grace, her eyes cold and unreadable. "You may have his name, Grace. But you'll never have his heart."

The words landed like a slap, and Grace's posture stiffened. "I'm not here to hurt this family anymore, Pol. I was doing my job back then, but I've changed. I won't betray him again."