APARTMENT IN MONTMARTRE, PARIS - MORNING
The morning sun crept through a gap in the curtains, illuminating dust motes swirling softly in the living room. David woke up on the sofa, his back aching. But as his eyes opened and saw the photo of Elara and Alisha on the table, all discomfort vanished, replaced by a profound gratitude. He was still here. Still given a chance.
He sat up and found Alisha already awake, sitting on the rug with her teddy bear, talking to herself.
"Papa!" Alisha jumped up and ran into his arms.
"Alisha,sweetheart," David hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head, still smelling faintly of baby shampoo. "Have you showered?"
"Not yet.Waiting for Mama. But Mama is still in her room."
The clinking of plates came from the small kitchen. Madame Claudette smiled warmly. "Good morning, Monsieur David. Breakfast is almost ready. Please wash up first."
After a quick shower and changing into clean clothes Robert had delivered earlier that morning, David sat at the dining table. Madame Claudette served scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.
"Madame Elara?" David asked.
"Hasn't come out,"Madame Claudette replied in a low voice. "Last night... there were sounds of crying from her room."
The stain of guilt on David's heart darkened.
PAINFUL SOLITUDE
After breakfast, Madame Claudette took Alisha to the Luxembourg Gardens. "We will be back for lunch. Give you two some time," she said with understanding eyes before closing the door.
The sudden silence felt suffocating. David took a deep breath, then walked towards Elara's room. He knocked softly. No answer.
"El? May I come in?"
Silence.
He opened the door carefully.
Elara was sitting propped against the headboard, a blanket rolled up in her lap. Her eyes were red, swollen, empty as she stared towards the window. Her cheeks were still wet.
"El," David sat on the edge of the bed, maintaining a distance he felt was appropriate.
Elara didn't turn. "I've been thinking all night," her voice was hoarse, hollow. "I replayed all our memories. From our first meeting, our wedding, Alisha's birth... to that gala night." She finally turned, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. "Where exactly did it all start to go wrong, David?"
David looked down, his fists clenched. "Where I started taking everything for granted. Where I stopped being vigilant."
"You slept in the same bed as her," Elara whispered, her voice like a dull knife trying to cut. "You might have held her like you hold me. Kissed her..." her voice broke.
"That wasn't me, El," David objected weakly, knowing his words would never be enough.
"But it was your body!" Elara hissed, finally looking at him. "The same body sitting here now. The body that..." she stopped herself, drawing a ragged breath.
The air between them was thick with everything left unspoken—longing, anger, pain, and a desire that still smoldered beneath the ashes of betrayal.
WOUNDED TOUCH
Unplanned, David's hand moved. His fingers touched the back of Elara's cold hand. The touch made Elara tremble.
"Don't," she whispered, but her hand didn't move.
"Forgive me," David hissed, his own tears finally falling, wetting their touching hands. "Forgive me for every touch that didn't belong to you."
Elara closed her eyes, tears streaming. "I miss you. God, I miss you so much." Her hand turned, her fingers slipping between David's. "But every time I imagine us... I also imagine the two of you."
David moved closer, slowly, giving Elara time to refuse. When she didn't, he touched her cheek. "I am here. Only for you. Always for you."
Elara opened her eyes, and in that gaze, David saw the battle between love and trauma. He leaned in, kissing the tears on her cheek. "Let me heal you. Let me prove it's only you."
Elara didn't answer, but her hand grasped David's shirt collar, pulling him down. Their kiss this time wasn't an explosion of passion like the night before, but something deeper, sadder, filled with apology and unmet need.
AN ATTEMPT ENDING IN WOUNDS
David, with utmost care, as if touching the most precious, nearly broken object, undid the buttons of Elara's silk pajamas. Every touch was a prayer, every kiss a promise.
Elara responded with desperation, her hands roaming David's back through his shirt fabric, pulling him closer, as if wanting to fuse them back into one inseparable entity.
As David was above her, looking into her teary eyes, he whispered, "I love you. Only you."
Elara nodded, pulling him down for another kiss. But as their bodies grew closer, as David began to move with a rhythm once so familiar, something inside Elara broke.
The image came uninvited. David and Natasha. In a bed perhaps similar. Movements perhaps the same. The expression on David's face perhaps the same.
"No," Elara suddenly moaned, her hands pushing against David's chest. "Stop. Please, stop."
David stopped immediately, rolling to the side. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"
Elara curled up, folding into herself like a baby, her body shaking with deep sobs. "I saw it. I saw the two of you. And... and I wondered, was your touch with her just as gentle? Did you whisper words of love in her ear too?"
CRYING TOGETHER
David didn't try to deny it anymore. He just lay there, his tears streaming onto the pillow, feeling Elara's pain as if it were his own. Because it was. He had caused this. He had damaged this sacred trust.
They cried together, separated by a few inches on the bed, yet divided by a chasm that felt as wide as an ocean. David's cries were silent, filled with crushing regret. Elara's cries were loud, filled with pain held back for too long.
After the storm subsided into occasional hiccupping sobs, Elara spoke in a hollow voice. "I wish I could, David. I truly wish I could forget and move on. But my body remembers. My memory remembers."
"I know," David whispered, not daring to touch her again. "And I will wait. Until you can. If you can."
THE FORCED RETURN
That afternoon, David's phone rang incessantly. Robert. "David, you must return. Now. All media outlets are running stories about Natasha's 'pregnancy.' They're calling you a 'playboy businessman who abandoned a pregnant woman.' The trial is tomorrow and the prosecutor needs preparation."
David closed his eyes. "Alright. Arrange a flight for tonight."
When he told Elara, she just nodded. "You have to finish this."
"I'll come back as soon as I can."
"Don't promise,"Elara said softly. "Finish it first. For yourself. For Alisha."
At Charles de Gaulle airport that night, David hugged Alisha tightly. "Papa will come back, sweetheart. Promise."
"Promise,Papa!"
Elara stood a few steps behind. David approached, wanting to hug her but hesitating. It was Elara who finally stepped forward, giving him a brief hug. "Be careful."
As the plane took off, David watched the lights of Paris recede. His heart ached not just from leaving Elara and Alisha, but from the yawning uncertainty.
CHAOS IN INDONESIA
The plane landed in Jakarta in the morning, and chaos was waiting. Robert picked him up with a tense face. "This is bad, David. Worse than we thought."
In the car, Robert showed him several online news headlines:
"DAVID YANG: THE SCANDAL OF THE SUCCESSFUL BUSINESSMAN FINALLY EXPOSED"
"WIFE FLEES TO PARIS, ANOTHER WOMAN CARRYING HIS CHILD"
"TWO WOMEN, ONE BUSINESSMAN: THE SHAMEFUL STORY OF DAVID LAURENT"
"Natasha seems to have selectively leaked information to the media," Robert fumed. "She's playing the victim card perfectly."
David closed his eyes, his head throbbing. "What about our evidence? The photos threatening Alisha?"
"Already prepared for tomorrow's trial.But the media doesn't care about evidence. They care about sensational stories."
All day, David's PR team worked hard to block access to fake news, refute claims, and prepare official statements. But like a game of whack-a-mole, one article disappeared, two new ones popped up.
In the evening, an exhausted David received a call from Elara.
"How's the situation there?"she asked, her voice tired.
"Chaotic,"David answered honestly. "But I'll face it."
"Listen,David..." Elara paused. "Whatever happens, don't let it change who you really are."
The call strengthened his heart. Amid the storm of scandal, amid the crushing guilt, there was still one person who believed in his core.
He looked at the photo of Elara and Alisha on his phone, then at the pile of legal documents on his desk. Two worlds he had to protect. Two responsibilities he had to fulfill.
And somewhere in Jakarta, Natasha smiled as she saw the news about herself, her hand resting on her still-flat stomach. Her game had entered a new stage. And she was sure, eventually, David would kneel.
But what she didn't know was that the man who might have once been defeated by this pressure had changed. He was no longer fighting just for his own reputation. He was fighting to return to his family. And that made him more dangerous than she could ever imagine.