
Song of the Quiet Flame
Chapter 4
Elaine took a refreshing bath and slipped into clean pajamas, but her respite was short-lived. Stephen's arms ensnared her once more, his kisses reigniting with an intense heat.
It was a long while before their fervor subsided.
Feeling drained and sticky with sweat, Elaine was too weary and drowsy to consider another shower.
She sat in a daze, her feet still not touching the floor.
Suddenly, someone caught her wrist. A deep, chilling voice cut through the silence. "Where do you think you're going?"
With a raspy voice, Elaine replied, "To take a bath."
"Got any energy left?" Stephen's voice was gentle.
Elaine was too spent to answer. Before she knew it, Stephen had swept her up and carried her to the bathroom.
They ended up sharing another bath, the steam or maybe the closeness turning her cheeks a rosy red. It was a detail she would keep to herself, too shy to share.
Jasper, her husband, had grown distant. His touch had become a memory. His visits home were rare, and those nights together? Even rarer.
The first six months were the hardest. She would confide in her friends, her voice tinged with shame as she said, "It's like he doesn't even want to touch me anymore. Am I that undesirable?"
He had lost interest in her.
However, no one could comfort her, just empty reassurances that Jasper must be blind.
It took her over half a year to start feeling a little better.
Then, all she wanted was to sleep, but Stephen's words cut through her haze. "You're not in the best shape, are you?"
She flushed with embarrassment but quickly brushed it off. There was no future with Stephen, Jasper's cousin, so why dwell on it?
The bed was empty when she woke up, but a note lay on the nightstand.
[Text me when you wake up. Found you a lawyer.]
Elaine stared at the elegant script, her mind a whirl. Was Stephen offering to help her divorce Jasper?
Elaine stopped herself from spiraling into a whirlwind of thoughts and resisted the urge to text Stephen.
The events of last night were a blur. It was a chapter she wished she could erase.
There was never supposed to be anything more between her and him.
She shredded the note and watched it swirl away in the toilet bowl. Stepping into the bathroom, she caught sight of her reflection—a face flushed with a healthy glow, as if it had been revitalized.
Her complexion had noticeably improved, and the usual sadness in her eyes seemed to have faded.
After getting herself together, Elaine grabbed her room key and headed out, ready to check out and leave it all behind.
However, fate had other plans. As she closed her door, another door clicked open.
Jasper emerged, locking eyes with her. His brows knitted, his gaze icy, and he watched her in silence, making her feel as though she might sweat under his scrutiny.
She was not without morals—guilt and regret gnawed at her.
Jasper's expression was unmistakable—pure disdain. It was as if his patience had evaporated. "Elaine, are you trying to get on my nerves?" he asked, his voice sharp as ice.
His words were few, but they hit her like a wave of rejection.
It was as if she was the one who could not take a hint, the unwanted shadow that would not leave his side.
Elaine inhaled deeply, trying to calm the tightness in her chest. "I told you last night—I had my own room," she said, her voice steady.
Jasper had doubted her then, and his disbelief was even stronger, certain she was desperate for his attention.
He studied her, and after a few seconds, a mocking smile crossed his lips. "Did you have fun eavesdropping on us all night?"
Jasper was angry, and his words cut deeper than just being mean. Then, he calmly said, "Mrs. Carter, if you'd told me about this little hobby of yours, I could've just brought a woman home next time.
"That way, you wouldn't have to go through all this trouble. It must be exhausting."