The contracted wife who left first

Elias sat alone in his office.

The boardroom was quiet now.

The scent of Aria's perfume still lingered in the air.

He hadn't expected to see her again—certainly not like that, standing across the table with her chin raised and her voice calm. She had been poised. Polished. Utterly unreadable.

He leaned back in his chair, unbuttoning his collar. The room felt too tight, and too cold despite the climate control. His gaze dropped to the file she'd handed him earlier. Calyx Tech's numbers were clean. Impressive, even. But that wasn't what bothered him.

It was her signature.

Aria Collins.

No hyphen. No Blackwood.

He hadn't expected it to sting, but it did.

Three years ago, she'd walked out without a word. Tore their marriage contract in two as it had never mattered. And he'd let her go—coldly, deliberately. He had told himself it was what she wanted. What they both needed. Their marriage had been a transaction, an agreement between two people who understood the world too well to believe in illusions.

Or so he thought.

Until the night she left, with eyes that looked more like heartbreak than freedom.

A knock interrupted the silence.

He didn't look up. "What is it?"

"Mr. Blackwood," his assistant said, stepping inside with a tablet. "The final financials from Calyx Tech, and… there's something else."

He took the tablet, skimming it with practiced efficiency—until something caught his eye.

A name.

E. Collins.

He narrowed his eyes.

"Who is this?"

"Aria's son. He's listed as her dependent in her employee file."

His heart stilled.

"Her… what?"

"Dependent, sir. Four years old."

A sharp chill crawled down his spine. He stared at the name on the screen, numb.

E. Collins.

Initial only. But the timing—four years old.

He did the math without meaning to.

Three years since she left.

A month before that, she had looked pale. Tired. Quiet in ways that felt unfamiliar.

"Was there a father listed?" he asked, voice low.

"No, sir. Just the mother's name."

The assistant hesitated before adding, "Should I… dig deeper?"

Elias didn't answer immediately. He stood up slowly, walking toward the window. The city glittered below like broken glass.

"No," he said finally. "Not yet."

"Yes, sir." The door closed softly behind her.

He stared down at the screen in his hand.

E. Collins.

It could be a coincidence.

It could be—

But no. Aria never did anything by accident. She was calculated. Intentional. And she'd walked into his boardroom today with fire in her eyes and a storm behind her calm. As if she was bracing for something.

A conversation?

A confrontation?

Did she have a child?

His child?

His phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number.

"The documents are signed. Calyx Tech will be absorbed by next quarter. Thank you for your time today."

No name.

But he knew who it was.

He stared at the message, thumb hovering over the screen. He wanted to ask. Needed to ask.

But how do you ask someone if the life they lived without you included the child you never knew you had?

His fingers trembled slightly as he typed.

"Aria. We need to talk."

He didn't send it.

Not yet.

Instead, he scrolled back to the name. E. Collins.

Not Blackwood.

But that didn't mean anything.

Not yet.

He dropped into his chair again, rubbing his temples.

The door creaked open. This time, it was Jordan, his head of legal.

"Still here?" Jordan asked, raising a brow. "Thought you'd be halfway to the penthouse by now."

Elias didn't respond.

Jordan stepped inside, his gaze falling on the tablet. "You good?"

"Define good."

Jordan chuckled dryly. "Didn't realize the Calyx merger was personal."

Elias finally looked up. "It wasn't. Not until she walked in."

Jordan's brow lifted. "Aria?"

He nodded.

Jordan leaned against the table. "Huh. She's still stunning. But distant. Like she's got layers now."

"She always did," Elias muttered. "I just didn't see them."

Jordan watched him for a beat. "Something happened?"

Elias hesitated. "She has a son."

That made Jordan straighten. "A son?"

Elias nodded slowly. "Four years old."

"…Yours?"

"I don't know."

Jordan whistled under his breath. "Damn. That's a hell of a twist."

Elias looked away. "She never said anything. Never reached out."

"Maybe she had her reasons."

"Like what?"

Jordan shrugged. "Fear. Pain. Anger. Pick your poison. Women don't just disappear for no reason, Elias."

"I gave her everything."

"You gave her a deal. Not a dream."

Elias flinched.

Jordan stood. "Look, man. If he's yours, you'll find out. But don't go into this with your walls up. If there's a kid involved—"

"There is a kid involved," Elias interrupted.

"Then talk to her. Not like a CEO. Not like the ex-husband. Just a man who might've missed the biggest moment of his life."

---

Meanwhile…

Across the city, Aria stood at the foot of Eli's bed, watching him sleep. His chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, his tiny fingers curled around a stuffed blue elephant he refused to sleep without.

He looked peaceful.

Untouched by the weight of the world.

She reached out and brushed a curl from his forehead. "You're going to change everything," she whispered.

The words lingered in the dark.

Nora leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "You know he's going to figure it out."

"I know."

"He might already have."

Aria sat on the edge of the bed, eyes never leaving Eli. "I saw it in his eyes. He's suspicious."

"So… what are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

Nora stepped inside. "You can't keep running. Eli's getting older. He'll start asking questions."

"He already does." Aria's voice cracked. "Today he asked me if his daddy was invisible."

Nora sat beside her. "What did you say?"

"I told him… his daddy was far away. But that he was once very brave and very kind."

Nora was quiet for a moment. "That's not untrue."

"But it's not the truth either."

"No. But maybe the truth doesn't have to hurt if it's told with love."

Aria wiped her eyes. "I don't know if Elias can hear anything with love anymore."

"You'd be surprised. Men like him, they carry silence like armor. But inside? They bleed too."

A buzz from the nightstand made Aria tense. She leaned over and picked up her phone.

A message from an unknown number.

"Aria. We need to talk."

She stared at it, her heart skipping.

Nora leaned over. "Is it him?"

"Yes."

Nora touched her arm. "Then maybe it's time."

Aria stood, slowly. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Time for what?"

"To stop hiding."

She looked down at her sleeping son. His breath was steady. His trust in her—absolute.

"I just… don't want him to be used as leverage. Or caught in the middle."

"Then don't let him be. But tell the truth, Aria. Give them both a chance."

Her hands tightened around the phone.

And for the first time in years, Aria typed back.

"Tomorrow. Meet me at the conservatory. Noon."