Elara's POV
A flutter of hope stirred in my chest when Damien nodded.
"I have some calls to make after dinner. We can talk in my study around nine," he said, his voice neutral.
I nodded, grateful for this small concession. After months of avoidance, perhaps we could finally address the divorce that hung between us like an unfinished sentence.
Dinner concluded with Eleanor's enthusiastic plans for Cora's upcoming school recital. My daughter barely glanced at me as she tugged Damien's sleeve.
"Can we work on my project now?" she asked, eyes bright with excitement.
"Yes, princess. Let's go to the workshop," Damien replied, standing up.
He looked at me briefly. "Nine o'clock."
I checked my watch as they left. Two hours to wait. I helped Eleanor clear the table despite her protests.
"You know we have staff for that, dear," she said, patting my arm.
"I don't mind," I replied. "Keeps me busy."