Diamonds Are Not Forever

CHAPTER FOURTY-NINE

The cities most attractive couple, designer model Maya Austen-Smith and her wealthy beau Elliot Truman (heir to the Truman family fortune), appear to be in some hot water.
Sources confirm that the beautiful Maya Austen-Smith, recently seen as the cover model for elite fashion magazine Gilded, was caught canoodling with a man who ISN'T her boyfriend!

Maya was first spotted with Elliot Truman last year at a charity ball (see image 1) where they were seen getting cozy in the back of a taxi. Sparks seemingly started to fly when they made their next public appearance two months later on the red carpet for a sci-fi thriller that starred non other than Maya's younger cousin – actor and singer Jacob Austen-Smith (see image 2).
Since then, Newziez has been desperately trying to get the scoop on their relationship. (See article link here)
All seemed perfect in paradise, until now?

A reliable source confirmed the below:

'Maya was discovered with another man (anonymous), the two were spotted in an embrace at a family friends party out of town. They were pretty close, if you get what I mean.'

We know little about the hunky Elliot Truman, other than his wealthy connections and his overflowing bank account (and the fact that he's a total dreamboat).
We wonder how he's taking the news of his girlfriend's infidelity?
Newziez has reached out to the Truman's spokesperson, but they declined to comment.

"No way, she cheated on him?" Ashley's voice cracked through the silence as her eyes continued to scan the article.
I was left speechless, gawking at the screen.
Maya cheated on Elliot, why didn't he say so?
It explained his hostility towards her, why they had shared a less than lukewarm exchange at Millie's gallery exhibition. And why Elliot was quick to call her a cold-hearted bitch every time her name was brought up.
"He didn't say." I mumbled out, quickly everting my gaze from the screen, not wanting to read another word of it.
Ashley shot me a look from the corner of her eye. "He didn't say why they broke up?"
I shook my head.
Her forehead creased up in thought as she closed down the browser. "That seems odd, that he didn't mention why he had broken up with her."
My mind was too preoccupied by the discovery to answer Ashley, thoughts bouncing around my brain uncontrollably.
Is she the reason he's so cold and distant sometimes?
Does he still love her, deep down?
Was it odd that he hadn't mentioned it to me?
I had hardly told him about my exes, other than our awkward conversation about how many people I had slept with. And it wasn't like we were a real couple, so he didn't really owe me any sort of explanation or insight into his past...
But it still irked me that he hadn't felt like he could tell me about something that will have clearly been a big event in his life.
Cheating uproots your foundations; it throws everything you think and feel into question. No man was immune from that, not even Elliot Truman.

I thought about the article all the way back to Elliot's apartment, internally arguing with myself if I was going to bring it up with him as I started to wind down from work.
Nobody was in when I closed the front door behind me, flipping the dimmer switch so the place was cast in a warm and soft glow. Even with the sound of the lights humming into action, the place felt eerily quiet.
Shrugging off my coat, I hung it neatly next to Elliot's leather jacket and made for my bedroom, desperate to get away from the empty feeling of the living room.
I needed a distraction from my wayward thoughts anyway, and unpacking the rest of my things would be just the trick.
When I'd first seen Elliot's spare bedroom, the night I signed the agreement, it had been bleak. Vast and lavishly furnished, for sure...but it had lacked any sort of charm or warmth.
I'd subconsciously made it my mission to make it my own little haven, if I was going to be living with him for a while, I might as well make myself at home.
The king-sized bed had been fitted with freshly washed sheets, the work of Elliot's mysterious housekeeper no doubt. The smell of citrus detergent filled my nostrils as I threw my bag down on the end of the bed and reached for the half empty holdall I'd brought with me from my house.
Inside the bag was the remainder of my personal effects, things I'd figured I'd need other than some clothes and my curling tongs. Reaching in, I grabbed for my jewellery box and placed it on the bed side table.
There wasn't anything in there of any real value, just a few pieces of costume jewellery and some pins I'd collected as a child, but it felt like a necessity when I had been throwing stuff in the bag to bring with me.
Flipping open the wooden top of the box, I cast my eyes over the velvety cushions inside.
Nestled in one of the cushions was the Claddagh ring Elliot had bought me for my birthday, I'd forgotten I'd put it in there when I'd been getting ready for bed after the birthday party he'd thrown me in the apartment.
Whenever I saw it, it took my breath away.
Running my fingertips over the intricate gold band, I let out a soft sigh into the stillness of the room. I wondered if he knew the meaning behind the ring, if he realised it was a symbol of love and betrothal.
Obviously not, I scolded myself internally.
It was a sweet gesture, nothing more.
But...
There was always this nagging feeling, deep inside, that made me wonder if sometimes he actually was the sweet and caring person he so desperately pretended not to be. If maybe, just maybe, his walls were crumbling a little around me.
I caressed the ring once more, drawing my bottom lip between my teeth and chewing down in thought.
"You're awfully quiet in here." A voice whispered from behind me.
I quickly snapped the box shut and threw my eyes in the direction of the door. Stood with his body pressed against the doorframe was Elliot, looking a little out of sorts as he loosened the tie around his neck.
"I didn't know you were home." I breathed, a little flustered from my earlier thoughts of him. "I was just putting some things away." I continued, placing the box back on the bedside table and jumping up from the bed so I could face him.
He raised his brow at me, like he'd caught me doing something I shouldn't be. "So I see."
My cheeks started to flush as I made myself look busy, placing the remainder of my things on the end of the bed so I could sort through them. "How was your day?"
He let out a hollow laugh, adjusting his stance at the threshold of my room, not moving from where the carpet met the hard wood floor of the hallway. "If I was a bird, I'd fly into a plane engine."
I giggled unattractively, a little taken aback that Elliot actually made a joke. "That bad, huh?"
Elliot shrugged, his eyes not moving from me as he watched me potter around the room, a small glint of amusement in his eyes.
"How about yours?" He eventually asked.
I picked up a picture frame and placed it on top of the chest of draws on the far side of the room, feeling his gaze on me with every step. "It was fine."
Was now a good time to bring up that I'd discovered the article about Maya?
Is there ever a good time to bring up someone's cheating ex?
I figured if I didn't say something there and then, I never would. And I was desperately wanting to know how he felt about it.
"I was looking at some possible Gala dresses with Ashley today." I tried to keep my voice steady, masking the shake in my words as I looked everywhere in the room but at him.
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. We were searching the work of the designer Millie has booked us an appointment with... and a picture of Maya popped up."
Elliot stilled in the corner of my eye, but I continued, adrenaline and curiosity masking my hesitation to carry on. I returned to the foot of the bed, glancing at him through my lashes as I tried to gauge his mood.
"It was an article, about Maya. And you, actually." I continued.
My words hung in the air as Elliot shifted from one foot to the other, you could tell he was itching to come in, but the gentlemen in him refused to step over the threshold without an invite.
I decided to keep him where he was, I figured my bravery would only last if he stayed at a distance. He had an uncanny ability to disarm and distract me when he was in close proximity.
"And what was this article about?" His voice was glacial as he rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.
Gulping in a large breath of air, I finally turned and met his gaze head on.
Elliot's strong jaw was tense, I could see it pulsing at the collar of his shirt.
Was he mad? Annoyed? Or was this reaction something else, had I been right in my earlier thought that he may still be a little heartbroken over what Maya did to him?
Closing my eyes for a brief second, I mustered all the courage within me to come right out with it.
"It said that Maya cheated on you, that she was caught with another man. Is that true?"
He stood there staring at me, his face blank from emotion as quiet filled the room. I could hear the blood pumping around my body, it was that eerily silent.
Seconds passed, but it could have been minutes or even hours, the way his light blue eyes unrelentingly burned into mine.
Say something, I internally willed him.
Finally, with hesitation, he did.
"Its true."
"Oh."
Instantly, my heart broke for him.
"I'm so sorry, do you want to talk about it?" I mouthed, expecting him to finally give me a glimpse of his humanity.
Because the normal human reaction to discussing someone betraying you would be to feel sad, or hurt, or even glad to finally be able to talk about it with someone willing to listen, who wouldn't pass any judgement.
Instead, Elliot turned his lips up in a sneer. "I don't want your pity, Juliette." He spat, running his hand though his dark, already messy hair. "And no, I don't want to talk about it."
My sadness was replaced with the niggling feeling of anger, my cheeks flaming with frustration and hurt at his cold reaction. "I don't know why you're mad at me; the article is public domain. Its not like I went snooping."
"I'm not mad at you!" He cut me off, his tone contradicted him as he folded his arms across his chest, closing himself off to me physically and emotionally.
And, because I couldn't help myself, because at the root of it all I needed to know the truth for my own sanity, I asked a question I instantly regretted the second it left my mouth.
"Do you still love her?"
All the oxygen left the room, or maybe just my own lungs, I was too delirious to know the difference.
I waited for him to answer, watching as his eyes glazed over and his lips parted.
But he didn't say a word as he turned from the doorway and fled from me.