Page 3 of The Man of the House

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to your wedding,” she says, leaning back against the seat.

“It wasn’t much of a wedding, really. We signed papers, and that was it.” The words are lodged in my throat, and I clear it. “Listen, Elena, you deserve to know about us. Me and your mom, I mean.”

Elena shakes her head. “No, it’s fine, Evan. I don’t need to know every detail. We had our differences, Mom and I, but I genuinely only wanted what was best for her.”

“Our marriage was purely transactional. For me, I could continue to live and work in this country and not get deported. For her, she would have a caregiver, who could also help her make medical decisions and sign important papers as needed.”

Elena wrings her fingers before she looks back at me. “I know a bit of that. Mom told me.” She hesitates for a beat and sighs. “This is going to be an awkward question, and you don’t have to answ?—”

“If you’re asking if we’re romantic in any way, the answer is no. We deeply cared about each other, but that was it. Your mom put it best when she said we were each other’s best friend for a time.”

“You never?”

“Had sex? No. We didn’t have that kind of relationship. We were best friends living under one roof. She didn’t even take my name. I was her husband only on paper.”

“I don’t mean this in a bad way, Evan, but if she wanted a caregiver, she didn’t have to marry one.”

“I know, but she didn’t want strangers staying with her. She already knew me, and she trusted me. She trusted me enough to make decisions for her when she couldn’t anymore. She believed I would always do the right thing for her.”

“That makes sense.”

I set the cup down and steeple my fingers in front of my stomach, briefly debating how much I should tell her, eventually deciding to just drop everything now. Besides, what do I have to lose? “She also wanted someone to look after you.”

Elena blows a raspberry. “I’m twenty-three. I don’t need looking after. I’ve been doing fine on my own.”

“That’s what I told her.”

Her gaze lingers on me, a little too long to be casual. The tilt to her head is subtle, almost imperceptible, but it speaks volumes—curiosity, disbelief, and wonder coiled into one expression. Her lips part as though she wants to say something, but no words come.

The silence is thick and charged, and it sucks the air in the room. Even Clawdia shifts by my feet.

“Elena, what is it?”

She gets a faraway look in her eyes. “You’re not who I expected you to be.”

“What did you expect?”

“A smug, arrogant guy who’s happy and relieved she died, who probably has a new, younger woman with him here, and who doesn’t shy away from showing everyone how good his life is now that his wife is gone.”

“Was that why you avoided me like the plague at her funeral?”

“Yes. I hated you back then, and I was a hundred percent sure it wouldn’t take you more than two days to spend Mom’s money and get a new girl.”

It stings that she used to see me like that, but I can’t blame her. Unfortunately, she’s not the only one who thought of me like that, but she’s the only one whose opinion matters to me. “I’m not rich, but I’m not that callous either. I know she added me to her will, but I won’t take any, including this house. It’s not right. You deserve all of it. I don’t.”

“You’re leaving the house?”

I shrug. “Yes, after you. This place … you can do with it as you please. It’s yours. I only held on because I’ve been waiting for you to decide what to do with her things. ”

Elena leans forward, and I try to ignore the cleavage peeking from her button-down pajama top.Not now, Evan. Jesus.“But where will you go?”

“I have a job, Elena. I can rent an apartment. This house doesn’t and will never belong to me.” She frowns and stares hard at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re squinting.”

Elena tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear and blushes. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I can’t see without my glasses, so I usually do that when I’m talking seriously with someone.” She stands abruptly. “I’m going back to my room. Let me bring your cup.”

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