Behind Closed Hearts

Chapter 1

As a powerhouse in her career, she intentionally returned home early on his birthday to prepare a special dinner.
But while watching the evening news, she saw him walking out of The Grand Elector's Inn with some "hot girl" wrapped around his arm.
Stubborn and heartbroken, she made the decision to file for divorce on Valentine’s Day.
In the days that followed, she buried herself in work, often forgetting to eat.
It was only when she fell ill that she realized how trivial everything had become, and she found herself wanting to return to him, hoping that in this final moment, just having him by her side was enough...
He truly loved his Lady Eleanor Fairchild.
He cherished their first encounter, squabbling over a parking spot, and appreciated how she showed her genuine self in front of him.
Though they often fought, it was the kind of bickering that deepened their bond—arguments that made their relationship stronger.
Yet, gossip columns drove her to rage, resulting in her choosing to divorce him on Qixi, the Chinese equivalent of Valentine’s Day.
When they met again, she had lost a significant amount of weight.
It didn’t matter; this time, he would personally make sure she regained her strength and filled out nicely...

Chapter 2

The pot simmered on the stove, releasing clouds of white steam as Eleanor tossed fresh asparagus into the bubbling water. The veggies sizzled enticingly, coated with a light sheen of oil, their vibrant green color shining brightly. The delightful aroma filled the kitchen, making her mouth water in anticipation.
With the asparagus plated, she stepped out of the kitchen, a smile dancing on her lips. It was rare for her to take the initiative to cook, especially for him. Where was Jonathan? Dinner was almost ready, and she couldn’t wait to see his reaction to the spread she had prepared—all his favorite dishes.
Lady Eleanor Fairchild strolled into the living room, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was already past seven. Was he caught up with something? It was his birthday, and he promised to be home for dinner. She fiddled with her apron, feeling a twinge of annoyance.
Pouting slightly, she flopped onto the sofa, her gaze landing on the array of framed photos on the table—each one a snapshot of their joyful moments together, especially their stunning wedding day.
Here she was, a woman of status and privilege, personally in the kitchen, patiently awaiting her beloved's arrival!
Who would have thought she'd ever find herself in this role?
With a sigh, Lady Eleanor picked up the remote and turned on the TV to pass the time. He better not be too late; she had worked too hard to let the food go cold!
Suddenly, the screen lit up with a breaking news segment, but the sight of a familiar face in the background made her pause.
“Today, news broke of an extramarital affair involving Lord Jonathan Kingsley, heir to Kingsley Enterprises, and a young woman at a local hotel!” the anchor declared, her voice cold and sharp.
Eleanor's eyes widened as shock washed over her. The man they were speaking of was the very person she was awaiting—her own husband.
What? Jonathan had the audacity to cheat on her?
Fury surged through her as she stood abruptly, yanking off her apron. The whole world knew it was nearly impossible for Lady Eleanor to step into the kitchen, and here she was, slaving over a hot stove, while her husband was being photographed getting cozy with another woman?
As she tossed the apron aside, she rushed to her bedroom, flinging the closet open to rummage through her things, her heart racing.
She pulled out a small safe hidden at the bottom of her wardrobe. After entering the code, the lid popped open to reveal a few diamond pieces and a single sheet of paper—
The divorce agreement.
With purpose, she grabbed a small suitcase and hastily stuffed it with essentials and her jewelry. She zipped it up and held it tightly.
Seizing a pen, she pressed the divorce paper against the wall and scribbled her name across the signature line.
Thud! She slammed the divorce papers onto the dining table, using a plate to pin them down.
She was no pushover—she was a confident woman from a respected food enterprise! What face did Jonathan expect her to show after his public disgrace?
Perhaps there were already reporters gathered outside her apartment; by morning, the world would know.
In her heart, she wouldn’t tolerate a smear on her love. If he wanted to cheat, fine—he could have her permission to be with that woman!
Before she left, she took a lingering glance at the lavish spread she had prepared, a deep sadness swelling within her for the woman who spent the day humming while cooking for the man she thought loved her.
It was a pity she cared so much for Jonathan.

Chapter 3

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” a man shouted in a conference room aptly named The Whispering Chamber. “She just tossed me this divorce agreement and vanished!”
At the elegantly-set rectangular table sat a dignified gentleman, wearing rimless glasses that lent an air of sophistication. Sir Oliver Fairchild, a lawyer specializing in divorce cases, maintained a placid smile as he observed his client pacing frenetically, occasionally erupting in frustration.
“Sir Oliver, what are you laughing at? Say something! Isn’t this beyond absurd?” Lord Jonathan Kingsley snapped, finally unable to hold back his anger.
“What would you like me to say?” Sir Oliver shrugged, always reluctant to get involved in family matters.
Especially considering that Jonathan was furious with his sister.
“Tell me that Lady Eleanor Fairchild is being utterly unreasonable!” Jonathan stormed over to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the sprawling Valley of Dragons far below.
If Sir Oliver was the epitome of cultured demeanor, Jonathan was his opposite—a fiery rebel. With spiky hair standing at attention, a sharp, angular face, thick eyebrows, and piercing eyes, his impression was one of intensity. His temperament matched his appearance.
He had been irritable for days, eagerly anticipating his birthday, imagining what surprise Lady Eleanor might have planned. He even turned down all his friends' invites and went out of his way to fetch a bouquet of her favorite flowers.
But instead of joy, he was confronted by Roderick the Scribe’s obtrusive presence and a horrific traffic jam. When he called Lady Eleanor, no one answered. By the time he finally escaped Roderick and returned to the single-story Nobleman’s Residence, it was nearly eight o’clock.
With various excuses ready for her, he opened the door to find his house eerily empty—an apron lay crumpled on the floor, the television flickered on, and the dining table was cluttered with leftover cold dishes.
And, beneath the plate of stir-fried asparagus was the divorce agreement.
“What on earth compelled her to throw this divorce agreement at me?” Jonathan glared at his brother-in-law, who had been too quiet.
“Some women can overlook their husbands straying, but my sister is not one of them,” he deadpanned, both of them stubbornly set in their ways.
“I didn’t cheat!” Jonathan shouted, snatching a magazine off the table. “It’s all fabricated nonsense. The reporter just happened to capture a moment without knowing what was happening. Why didn't she ask me first?”
“That moment clearly depicts you leaving The Grand Elector's Inn with a beautiful woman,” Sir Oliver replied, struggling to think how to explain this to his sister.
“What beautiful woman? That was my friend coming to discuss something with me!” Jonathan ground his teeth, pulling out a chair to sit down aggressively. “He was unwell, so I merely took him to The Grand Elector's Inn to rest…”
“Every unfaithful husband uses excuses like that. Can you maybe think of a better one?” Sir Oliver pressed, feeling quite uncomfortable.
Jonathan furrowed his brow, glancing out the window, then cupping his chin in a deep frown. After several deep breaths, he focused back on Sir Oliver.
“Perhaps you should fill me in on the details.” Sir Oliver raised his wrist to check his watch. “My sister will arrive in twenty minutes.”
After news of the “affair” broke, Lady Eleanor had stormed out that day after seeing the headlines, left behind the divorce papers, and commissioned a lawyer to communicate her intent to discuss divorce at a later date.
Jonathan was seething, convinced his wife was being unreasonable. A brief phone call was supposed to clarify everything, but now they were both resorting to lawyers for the divorce.
Their tempers were notoriously explosive; the fact they had managed to be together was a miracle—now, the split felt inevitable.
Jonathan, eyebrows knit in concentration, shot a cautious glance at his brother-in-law. He had promised to keep Greta the Page's secret, but this had serious implications for his marriage.
“That woman, well, her name is Greta,” Jonathan hesitated, his face turning serious. “Uh, she’s... um, a guy.”
Sir Oliver nearly toppled out of his chair, his complexion paling dramatically.

Chapter 4

“My Liege... so you’re having an affair with another man?” Oliver’s voice trembled as he asked, “Is my sister really that undesirable?”
“Stop it. He’s my friend, and he’s transitioning,” Lord Jonathan Kingsley snapped, fighting the urge to kick him. “He’s here to talk about some personal issues.”
“You and… Ms. Greta… there’s no ‘relationship’ there,” Sir Oliver Fairchild instinctively scooted his chair back a foot, gazing at him warily.
“Get out of here. I told you he’s just a friend.” Jonathan shot him a glare.
“Then why not explain everything to Lady Eleanor?” It’s just a misunderstanding; why jump to divorce?
“Ask her yourself; she won’t listen to me.” Just thinking about it made Jonathan furious again.
When he called Fairchild Estate, she had the audacity to say she was too busy to take his call. Eventually, she reluctantly answered, coldly stating that since he had someone else, their marriage no longer needed to be a charade.
A charade? Who’s putting on a show here?
He admitted their marriage had initially been a business arrangement; they had always bickered. But a long time ago, he stopped pretending entirely.
He had grown used to having her at home, the comfort of her leaning against his arm while sleeping, and the lingering scent she left on the pillow.
“You two...” Sir Oliver sighed helplessly. “Isn’t talking about divorce without clarity too rash?”
“Rash? That’s a question for your sister.” Jonathan scoffed.
“You didn’t have to choose today for the divorce, though,” Oliver said, exasperated. Few people actually select a day for this kind of thing.
“Is there a special day for divorce?” Jonathan chuckled derisively.
“Today’s Valentine’s Day, for crying out loud! The day when the poor Cowherd and Weaver Girl can only meet once a year.” Oliver looked at Jonathan with a hint of hope, “Valentine’s has so much romance. Why not explain things to Lady Eleanor and then enjoy the day together?”
“Valentine's Day? That was your sister's choice,” Jonathan fumed even more.
For all he knew, Lady Eleanor had done this on purpose, intentionally selecting Valentine’s Day to file for divorce.
Oliver raised a white flag in surrender. He had spoken out of turn; after all, he was just a lawyer, simply following the will of his client.
Just then, a flurry burst through the door. Maid Annabelle Gray entered, breathless. “Lady Eleanor is here.”
She was the herald, rushing to announce the arrival of Lady Eleanor. The two men immediately straightened up in their seats, anticipating the entrance of their distinguished guest.
Lady Eleanor strode in, her lawyer beside her, high heels clicking on the floor. As she opened the door, her gaze met Jonathan’s.
She shot him a cold glance, turning away as she walked straight to the chair opposite him.
“Hey, sis,” Oliver greeted, a playful tone in his voice.
“You spineless coward, acting as Jonathan’s lawyer?” She raised an eyebrow, seemingly appalled by her brother.
“What? I’m not spineless; he’s my brother-in-law!” Oliver feigned innocence.
“Won't be for long,” she added, casting a quick glance at Jonathan. “I have a meeting this afternoon, so let’s make this quick.”
Jonathan watched the woman seated across from him; she had lost a bit of weight, but her sweet appearance remained unchanged. The way her fierce anger flickered still captivated him.
Next to her sat a stunning woman, her lawyer and a longtime confidante, Maid Annabelle Gray.
“Honestly, this is straightforward. The two of you had an agreement before the wedding: you live your lives separately while pretending to be married,” Annabelle began. “You both were allowed to date, but you couldn’t be caught by the press.”
And yet, Jonathan had flaunted photos of himself with a gorgeous woman all over the tabloids, entirely violating their agreement.
“That’s not my woman,” Jonathan asserted solemnly.
“Next time I’m out in the open with a man, I’ll tell you it’s just a misunderstanding,” Annabelle shot back, her skepticism palpable.
“Who'd you hug?” Jonathan’s voice suddenly rose.
“Mind your own business,” she shot back defiantly.

Chapter 5

“You can cozy up with young women at a hotel, yet you think you can control my life?” Lady Eleanor Fairchild raised her chin defiantly. “If you’re going to have an affair, at least don’t get caught. That was our one and only agreement.”
Their marriage had been a business arrangement, which meant they all agreed to lead separate lives without interfering with one another. Yet, for the sake of family reputation, they had to pretend to be a loving couple, putting on a show for the outside world.
Thus, they had crafted a pre-marital contract that allowed them to live independently after tying the knot. They could date other people, as long as they didn’t get photographed or caught by anyone.
Although she hadn’t bothered to date anyone. Despite living under the same roof, sharing a life together. Despite waking up in his arms every day.
However, she could not tolerate the fact that he really had a woman on the side.
“I’m not having an affair. That woman is my friend,” Lord Jonathan Kingsley shot back, his patience thinning. How many times did he have to explain this?
“Right, a ‘friend.’” Lady Eleanor’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “And what was she doing at the hotel with you? Feeling unwell, so you took her to rest?”
Lord Jonathan stopped, his surprise evident. Even Sir Oliver Fairchild seemed taken aback. Hadn’t he explained this already? Why did his sister act like she understood everything?
“How do you even know that?” Lord Jonathan asked, disbelief crossing his face.
Lady Eleanor wanted to laugh out loud. Did Lord Jonathan really think he could use this flimsy excuse to fool her?
She had held on to a small hope that he might clarify that his feelings for that woman were just a fleeting moment of confusion, or perhaps it was just a misunderstanding, and he’d bring that woman here to clear things up.
But here he was, trying to brush it off with a clumsy excuse.
“I wish you and your ‘friend’ a lifetime of happiness,” she said coldly, turning to her friend. “Annabelle, please continue.”
“Um… Since there aren’t many shared assets in either name, the only things we need to sort out are some furniture and decorations,” Maid Annabelle Gray said, pulling out a list and handing it to Sir Oliver Fairchild. “Please take a look and let me know if anything is missing or if there’s anything extra.”
Before Sir Oliver could even glance at the list, Lord Jonathan snatched it away. The items listed weren’t many, and they were indeed things they had bought together.
“That vase was my purchase,” he declared, glaring at the list.
“Yes, you chose it, but the card we used was mine,” Lady Eleanor shot back, her voice rising.
“The Victorian antique chair was mine,” he said, rising in anger. How was it possible everything was being credited to her name?
“Sorry, but I paid for that on my card that day,” she stood up in defense. “You lost your wallet that day, so all the purchases were charged to mine.”
“Do you always have to be so meticulous?” Lord Jonathan shot her a glare. This woman seemed to walk in with an air of arrogance; did she truly despise him so much? Had she forgotten all their moments of intimacy?
“I’m clear about everything when it comes to you,” she poked his shoulder. “We’re not a loving couple.”
“Lady Eleanor Fairchild, are you really not going to hear me out?”
“I have eyes and can see perfectly; I don’t need your explanation.” What more was there to say after that? “We might as well end this, it’ll be better for both of us.”
Clearing his throat, Sir Oliver Fairchild subtly raised his hand. “I could explain things for you, brother-in-law…”
“Who’s dragging whom down? I’ve never accused you of holding me back,” her coldness made him furious as they faced each other.
That woman was genuinely not an affair; she was actually…
“Can I say you’re holding me back? Can we skip this back-and-forth? I’m busy—got a meeting later and can’t waste time here with your nagging.”
“She’s just a friend, I promise! Sister, please calm down and listen to him explain…”
“Alright, you think you’re the only busy one? I have meetings too!” Lord Jonathan turned to Sir Oliver with a menacing look. “Oliver, just handle that list; I’m not interested.”
Uh… Sir Oliver Fairchild stood there, stunned, watching his sister and brother-in-law argue like sworn enemies.

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