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"What do you mean, there's no certificate?" Serena's father stared at her. "You held a wedding in front of two hundred people and you're not even legally married?"
Serena pressed her mouth flat and said nothing.
The truth was that on the day of the divorce, she'd been ready. The moment Adrian and Eliana walked out of the registry office, she'd expected him to take her straight somewhere to formalise things. Instead, he'd stood on the pavement watching Eliana walk away, and his eyes hadn't moved until she was out of sight.
When he'd finally noticed Serena, he'd pulled her along and said, "The wedding first. The certificate can wait — we have time."
She'd let it go. But she had known, even then, that it wasn't quite right.
Her parents left after a quiet, terse exchange. Serena sat alone in the chair until the figure in the bed stirred.
"Serena." His voice was rough. Half awake.
She crossed to him immediately. "You're up. How are you feeling? Good — because there's something I'd like us to do today."
He blinked, still not fully present.
"What is it?"
"I want us to go to the registry office. File the paperwork. Make this official." She put her hand over his. "And then you can buy me the limited-edition Birkin I've had my eye on. And I'd like the Maldives for the honeymoon — I want you to book the flights today —"
The room felt like it was tipping.
His throat was raw. Speaking at all was difficult.
When he had a fever — and he'd had a bad one two years ago — Eliana had been there when he woke. She'd known without asking that his throat always went when he was ill. She'd had a thermos of warm water and honey ready. She'd put on music he liked and sat beside the bed doing nothing, available and quiet.
There was no water on the bedside table.
There was a woman listing things she wanted from him.
He held up a hand. "Give me a moment. Leave me for now."
Serena's face flickered. But something in his eyes made her go.
He rang Oliver.
"Find out where Eliana Ashford is."
Oliver's voice, small and awkward: "Sir, you're about to be married — why would you —"
"My personal decisions are not yours to question. Go."
Half an hour later, Oliver returned.
"I tried her number, her email, every contact I have for her. She's blocked me on every platform."
Adrian sat up.
He sent her a message himself. You weren't at the wedding. Did you not receive an invitation?
He watched the delivery indicator.
A red exclamation mark appeared.
Message undelivered. He had been blocked.