My chest knotted. This wasn't right.
Ella seemed different around other people than she was around me.
Why?
People kept greeting Ella as we walked. She seemed to know all of them. I didn't recognize a single one. When Ella smiled back, a bit of that earlier brightness returned to her face. But as soon as they left, she went dim again.
Her small figure was swallowed by my shadow.
She looked like she was living in my shadow.
I wanted to ask her why, but couldn't figure out how to start. Then a well-dressed elderly woman stopped us.
The old woman's cloudy eyes were sharp, carrying the careful scrutiny of someone used to power. When Grandfather had stayed here, I'd heard Saint Heart sheltered some mysterious figures with serious status.
She smiled at Ella first, then turned her gaze on me.
"Ella, is this your husband?"
"Yes, Eleanor." Ella's answer was barely audible.
"Doesn't look like a husband," the old woman said, narrowing her eyes. "More like a creditor."
The hand in mine went rigid.
Creditor?
I almost laughed. Who was this stranger to comment on our marriage?
But what shocked me more was Ella's reaction. Her lips moved like she wanted to argue, or explain, but in the end, she pressed them shut.
She didn't deny it.
My stomach dropped.
A doubt I'd never felt before crept in.
Why? Wasn't she happy with me?
I gripped her hand tighter, my fingers unconsciously pressing too hard, like she might disappear.
Maybe too tight, because I felt her pull back slightly.
I loosened my hold a little, told myself not to rush. Ella was shy by nature. She just didn't like displaying marital affection in public. And we'd barely seen each other for over two months. Some emotional distance was natural.
As her husband, I needed to be more proactive about maintaining our relationship.
I pulled out my phone and sent Vivian a message.
"Book two tickets. Reykjavik."
She replied quickly. "Will do. Should I bring the tickets to you?"
Chapter Eleven
Ella
A week later, I finally saw my sister Maya again.
