A Heirs Trap
Dear Diary,
I dont think Ill ever forget this day. Ive known Emily since we were teenagers, and never absolutely never have I seen her quite like she was this afternoon. My usually-collected friend was darting back and forth between her wardrobe and her full-length mirror, tugging out dresses, holding them against herself for scrutiny, discarding one after another as if our national wellbeing depended on her decision. Her closet is the stuff of legend, but she was carrying on as though nothing she owned could possibly meet her needs. All the while, she was humming under her breath a barely-there tune, cut off every few seconds by a frown at her reflection.
At first, I just watched in amazement, but my curiosity finally got the better of me (as it always does). I raised an eyebrow and did my best to sound casual: So, Em, whos the lucky fellow youre getting all dolled up for?
Shed just applied a slick of brilliant red lipstick. Her response was calm almost breezy: Oh, for Oliver.
I nearly dropped my teacup. Wait, Oliver? You dont mean That Oliver? The one you dumped all those years ago? You told me he was hopeless no drive, no future, remember?
Emily smiled to herself, sweeping a final touch of colour across her lips and then appraising her overall effect in the glass. She looked, I had to admit, absolutely stunning.
Thats him, she said, stepping back, hands on her hips. But it turns out I underestimated him. His elder brother isnt taking over the family company its Oliver himself whos inheriting everything.
I just stared. How could someone change their mind about a person that quickly especially after such a dramatic break-up? Five years ago, they had split up in a whirl of tears and cutting words. Some wounds are hard to forget.
And you seriously think, I couldnt help but let a little sarcasm into my tone, that after that spectacular break-up hell take you back? I mean, I hope youre not exhausting yourself for nothing.
Emily didnt even flinch. She tucked a rebellious curl behind her ear, her eyes shining with anticipation. Oh, he will trust me, she declared. You didnt see how he looked at me the other day, when we ran into each other. Utterly spellbound. His girlfriend at the time if you can even call her that she practically melted away. Plain girl, I think shes called Ava. Poor thing looked on the verge of tears seeing how animated Oliver got when he spotted me.
The confidence in Emilys voice was unshakable she seemed blind to the skepticism in my expression.
We talked, and he couldnt take his eyes off me, her smile was positively feline. I didnt even have to try it just happened.
I just shook my head. I remembered Oliver being frosty the last time our paths crossed, but arguing wouldnt do any good. Emily was never one to listen to reason when she was on a mission.
She did another slow turn by the mirror, smoothing her dress and checking her perfume. The welfare of Olivers current relationship clearly didnt trouble her Alls fair in love and war, seemed to be her motto. This wasnt the first time someone moved the goalposts; now it was her turn to seize the chance.
Truth be told, Oliver was quite a catch: smart, charming, polished to perfection. And now, with an imminent promotion to managing director and not a modest bank balance, either he was a prize indeed. Emily ticked off his virtues in her head, her resolve hardening with each one.
She looked herself dead in the eye in the mirror, gave a satisfied smile. She fit the role beautiful, sharp, supportive, just the right sort to impress his business colleagues while making a home warm and welcoming. If not her, then who?
Her mind ticked back to Ava the pale, quiet girl beside Oliver in the park, three wasted years and not even a whiff of an engagement announcement. Who but Ava was to blame for letting him slip away?
Everything about Emilys look whispered perfection, from the elegant heels to the subtle trace of expensive perfume. She seemed certain tonight would be the beginning of something bigger. The rest was just logistics.
***
A month passed. I bumped into Emily by chance at our favourite café. She was perched by the window, her skin aglow, looking as polished as a freshly minted pound. I couldnt help myself and slid into the chair opposite.
So I began. It was hard to contain my curiosity. How are things with you and Oliver? Word has it he left his girlfriend. Very diplomatic, too. If I were Ava, Id have made a scene worthy of the tabloids.
Emily leaned back with a lazy grin, clearly relishing the question.
Never better, she said, all satisfaction. Ive moved into his flat you should see it, top-floor penthouse in the City, skyline views and everything. Feels a bit like living above London itself, especially after dark.
She paused to remember her first dawn there, then pressed on, even more animated.
Imagine, waking up every morning to that panorama. Stylish, modern decor youd hardly believe its mine, but it is.
I tried not to let my envy show, stirring my tea listlessly. You sound happy, I said, hoping my voice rang true. Part of me would have loved to be in her place, though I could never be so audacious, so seamlessly take over someones life.
Oblivious to my private misgivings, Emily went on, eyes shining.
Ill be even happier after our wedding, she said dreamily. Ive started looking for dresses, something timeless yet striking. I want everyone to gasp when I walk in.
I let her words settle, studying her. Everything about the relationship seemed so calculated. It was as if she were playing chess while the rest of us were at draughts.
Fast work, Em. Set the date yet?
For a split second, a cloud crossed her face. She set her coffee down, turning the cup thoughtfully in her fingers.
No not yet. First I have to meet Olivers gran, and make a good impression. Can you believe she still runs the company at sixty-five! Shell have to step aside sooner or later.
I hid a smile. Olivers granny, Lady Rosemary, had a reputation: shrewd, iron-willed, with a strong grip on the family firm. Knowing Emily, I had my doubts about a warm welcome.
And what if she doesnt accept you?
Emilys chin rose. She wont have a choice. Once she knows Im expecting, shell have to. Shell want the heir in the family.
I blinked, stunned. Youre pregnant? I managed.
She nodded, pleased as punch. Not yet, but thats the line Ill use. Itll get everything moving Oliver, the wedding, settling in. Smart, isnt it?
As usual, I barely knew what to say. Part of me was concerned, but I couldnt help being in awe at her sheer nerve.
Best of luck, I managed, deadpan. Lady Rosemary is a force. I wouldnt underestimate her.
But Emily just waved the notion away defeat wasnt in her vocabulary.
***
Avas Story
I never wanted to go to Lady Rosemarys house, but you simply dont refuse an invitation from the head of the family. So I found myself in her grand sitting room, fiddling with the edge of my dress, nerves jangling.
Rosemary entered with that effortless grace only some people have, her elegantly cut suit conveying both warmth and authority. She sat beside me and squeezed my hand.
My dear Ava, Im so sorry about my grandsons behaviour she murmured sincerely. You were together so long, and for him to behave so callously
My throat threatened to close up; I fought tears, but I knew Lady Rosemary would want no display of weakness.
You cant order your heart about, can you? I replied with a faint smile. And honestly, Emily suits Oliver more than I ever did. I never liked being the centre of attention, you know that. It stings, but thats life. At least there wasnt a wedding to untangle.
There was no bitterness in my tone, just a growing acceptance. Lavish soirées, endless polite chat that had been Olivers world, never mine. Hed always craved the bright lights, while I was a shadow on the edge.
Youve always been steady and wise, Ava, Lady Rosemary squeezed my hand again. Its doubly sad he didnt see sense in that. Olivers nothing like his father his dad knew how to cherish quiet happiness.
I lowered my eyes, remembering happier days slow evenings reading, gentle walks, conversations that wandered and wound. Over time, Olivers attention drifted to office politics and image. There was simply no room left for us.
I can only thank you for everything, Lady Rosemary honestly. You treated me like family.
She gave a knowing nod. With every minute, it became even clearer to her what Oliver had lost. But the die was cast. Now the future belonged to others.
Still, I was determined not to let the evening be ruined, not to cry in front of everyone. This was just a party I could put on a smile, even if my heart wasnt in it.
The party was at the familys country house roaring fire in the grate, ancestral portraits, an unbroken chain of family memorabilia. Id arrived early to avoid a stir. The first half-hour was fine. I shared a few words with various aunts, relaxed for a moment listening to Olivers older brother, Edward, crack another story. His warm laughter never failed to soothe my nerves.
But soon, everything changed. Oliver walked in, arm in arm with Emily, as if they already ruled the place. Emily didnt have an invitation this was Lady Rosemarys home, and she wasnt exactly famous for encouraging impulsiveness.
Emily strode around as if conducting an inventory, scrutinising paintings, curtains, bookshelves mentally redecorating, I dare say. This was new territory for her, but she acted like the host. I tried not to let it get to me.
Even as her eyes met mine for a brief, cold moment a silent, triumphant signal, Im here, and here to stay I held my composure, responding with polite indifference. I turned my attention back to Edwards latest anecdote, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
The family gradually filled the room. At the head of the table sat Lady Rosemary herself, teacup poised, every inch the matriarch.
Suddenly Oliver stood, his voice just about steady: Granny, may I present my fiancée, Emily.
All chatter stopped. Lady Rosemarys face betrayed nothing, but her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.
Really, Oliver. I havent given consent to any marriage, nor will I! This family may be a little eccentric, but we do have standards.
Emily, ever the actress, darted him a leave it to me look and straightened her back.
That may be, Lady Rosemary, but in two weeks, Ill be an Ellison, regardless. Im expecting a child your heir.
Silence sliced through the room. Some exchanged uneasy glances. Everyone avoided looking at me.
Oliver seemed stunned at Emilys boldness, but Lady Rosemarys composure never wavered.
And what, pray, is he meant to inherit, Emily? Olivers never worked a day for it. The flat is mine, the accounts are mine, and so is the company.
Emilys composure faltered. She looked to Oliver for rescue, but he just stared awkwardly at his feet.
But but Olivers managing director I thought
A sharp, genuine laugh rang out. All eyes landed on Edward, leaning back with a broad grin. Who, Oliver? He moves papers, Em. Im the director. Always have been.
Colour drained from Emilys face and then surged back in red-hot embarrassment. She spun to Oliver, voice rising:
You lied to me! How could you?
He finally looked up, defeated. I wanted you to see me as successful, I thought I could turn things around
You wanted to impress me? Did you not think how this could end? Or about our supposed child?
Even Edward lost his smile. Lady Rosemarys lips twitched in a way that had told you so written all over it.
So it was only about status? Oliver shot back, wounded. Wouldnt have mattered if I wasnt top dog? Ava never cared about titles.
A thick, awkward silence followed as everyone stared at Emily.
You shouldnt have lied, she spat, grabbing her handbag. And as for the wedding forget it. Im leaving. I wish you and Ava all the happiness in the world.
Her heels pounded furiously over the polished wood floor as she swept out, the heavy oak door slamming behind her.
No one moved at first. Oliver was slumped, defeated. Edward cleared his throat and poured himself a drink. Lady Rosemary simply sipped her tea, as if all had gone according to plan.
I remained in the corner, allowing myself a sad, relieved smile. Never again, I thought. You live and learn.
I gathered my things quietly and slipped out into the evening, breathing in the cool English air. I could finally let go and it felt liberating. After all, sometimes endings are the happiest part.
