Page 32 of Faking It with the Ice Queen

Curling into herself, Elara let the tears fall, each one a release, a reminder of everything she’d lost. And for the first time, she let herself feel it all—every ounce of pain, every sliver of regret—knowing there was no one to blame but herself.

Later, Elara felt the tears begin to dry as if she had hollowed out all the parts of herself she had tried to bury deep, and she felt empty and cold. She sat up on the floor and looked around at the mess around her. Her glass had shattered when she dropped it; the dress Grace had worn earlier was still on the floor, her heels kicked off in separate directions across the room. Elara felt her heart squeeze, wanting to wring out any last tears. Every inch of this room had some piece of Grace, and she felt as if she would break if she had to look at any of it any longer. She knew she should go after Grace; she should call her and beg her to come back, but Elara still felt like a hollowed-out shell and was too afraid of what Grace would say to her.

Elara sighed as she stood up and made her way over to the room phone. With a press of one button, she had called housekeeping, requesting the sheets be changed and the mess cleaned up ASAP. There would be no sleep for Elara thisevening. She knew that. It was pointless to wait for the sunrise surrounded by the evidence of her mistakes. Instead, Elara decided to do the only thing she knew would clear her mind, however briefly. She donned her workout clothes and a warm jacket and rushed from the room, desperate to get away from the suite.

When she made it to the gym, she got on the treadmill and began her routine. Running had always been her escape. She loved the way her muscles burned, her lungs ached, and her mind emptied. When she ran, the world narrowed down to the next step, the next mile. There was nothing but what was directly ahead. Her daily five miles wasn’t going to cut it today. She ran until the sun began to rise and she felt like she was going to collapse, and then she ran a mile more after that. She savored that last mile, the pain and the elation mixing to wash away anything else.

Over the past week, Elara had avoided the family for breakfast and lunch in the hopes of reducing their interactions with Grace. However, when Elara faced the thought of spending time alone, she found herself wandering to her parent’s suite for their private family breakfast gathering.

The family’s chatter hummed in the background, and the clink of silverware punctuated the quiet. Elara sat at the head of the table, her usual calm façade in place, but her stomach twisted. Grace should have been here. She’d been present for nearly every family event so far, and yet, this morning—after all the meals, the celebrations, the conversations—she was conspicuously absent.

Victor, as always, was the first to notice. He set his coffee cup down with a precise motion, his gaze sweeping the table before landing on the empty seat beside Elara.

“Where’s Grace?” he asked, his tone neutral but laced with curiosity. The silence that followed felt suffocating.

Elara’s breath caught. It was the question she had been dreading, the one she knew would come.

“She’s not here,” Elara replied, keeping her voice steady despite the knot in her chest. She forced herself to look around the table, avoiding her father’s steady gaze. But her mother had already noticed.

Her mother raised an eyebrow, her face an unreadable mask as she set her napkin down carefully. “Not here? But she’s been with us at every event. Why wouldn’t she join us today?” Her tone was polite but expectant, like it was the natural course of things.

Elara’s eyes darted to her sister, Cate, who gave her a curious glance before returning her attention to her mother. James sat back in his chair, his expression thoughtful but waiting for Elara to respond. Eleanor observed everything in silence, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

Elara felt the weight of their gazes. She had never been the one to share personal details with her family, and this was no exception. But today, everything felt raw, too fragile to conceal any longer.

“She left,” Elara said quietly, her voice barely rising above a whisper. She didn’t dare meet their eyes. “It was my fault.”

There was a collective pause. Margaret looked at her, her expression unreadable, and Victor leaned forward slightly, his gaze narrowing.

“What do you mean it’s your fault?” he asked, the concern clear in his voice now.

Elara swallowed hard. She could feel the walls closing in around her, but she couldn’t stop now. She had to explain, even if it scared her more than anything she had ever done.

“I…I pushed her away,” Elara said, the words tumbling out with a heaviness she couldn’t disguise. “I didn’t want to admit it,but I was falling in love with her. And it scared me. I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable, not with her...not with anyone.”

The words hung in the air, and the silence that followed felt like a thick fog. Cate shifted in her chair, her lips slightly parted in surprise. James glanced at their father, then back at Elara. Margaret’s face softened, but there was still a quiet intensity behind her eyes.

“Elara,” Victor said, his voice gentler than usual. “You can’t just.. run away from something like this. You’ve spent so long building this life, but you can’t keep pretending it’s enough. Not if it’s costing you everything else.”

Elara’s eyes stung. She hadn’t wanted to hear it, not like this, but his words cut through her defenses.

“I wasn’t ready,” she whispered, her throat tightening. “I thought I could control everything—my business, my life, my relationships. But with Grace, I couldn’t. And it terrified me.”

Margaret’s gaze softened, but there was an edge of concern beneath her composure. “You’ve been so focused on perfection, on control, Elara,” she said quietly. “But this...this isn’t about control. It’s about being real. It’s about letting yourself be loved, not just admired from a distance.”

Cate leaned forward, her voice light but laced with something deeper. “You really pushed her away because you were scared of falling in love?” she asked, almost teasing. “You? The Elara Silver I know would never let fear dictate anything. But love...that’s different, isn’t it?”

Elara looked at her sister, the bitterness in her chest rising. She had never let herself feel things like this, had buried it all beneath a well-maintained façade. And now, faced with her family’s questions, she couldn’t stop the rush of emotion.

“I didn’t want to be vulnerable,” Elara admitted, her voice cracking slightly. “I didn’t want to fall in love with someone who could leave, who could hurt me. I’ve spent my whole life keepingeverything together, controlling it. But Grace...she made me feel something I couldn’t control.”

James leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe that’s the problem,” he said quietly. “You can’t control everything, Elara. And maybe you’re supposed to feel those things, even if they scare you. That’s what makes us human.”

Eleanor, who had been sitting quietly, watching the exchange, finally spoke up in her steady, wise tone. “You can’t run from love, Elara. It doesn’t wait. You can only hold it back for so long. Don’t let fear make your decisions for you. You’ll regret it.”

Elara felt the weight of her grandmother’s words settle on her like a quiet truth. She didn’t want to regret this. But she didn’t know how to fix it. She had pushed Grace away, and now she wasn’t sure if she could make it right.

“I’ll talk to her,” Elara said softly, the resolve creeping back into her voice. “I have to. I need to tell her the truth, even if I don’t know what happens next.”

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