Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 52.

Elaine’s POV.

Zane disappears sometime after most of the formalities end.

He just slips away, jacket in hand, murmuring something to some man equally as tall as him. They head toward the balcony doors together, and before I can even think about whether I care, they’re gone.

I tell myself I don’t.

I stay where I am, near the bar, fingers curled around the stem of my glass. It’s something light, something citrusy without apple anywhere near it again. The women around me are already deep into conversation, a loose circle of wives who’ve known each other long enough to speak freely.

They’re warm, curious and assessing.

"So....." one of them says, smiling politely at me and leaning in. "How are you holding up?"

I shrug lightly. "Well I’m surviving."

That earns a few laughs.

Another woman leans closer. "He’s really intense, your husband."

That’s one word for it.

"I’ve noticed," I say.

They talk about the venue, the flowers, the inconvenience of the postponed reception, how unfortunate it all was. I nod in the right places, sip my drink, listen more than I speak. I’m good at this part. I’ve been trained my whole life to be agreeable without being revealing.

The Music shifts....

The band starts something slower, smoother. A ripple moves through the room as couples begin to gather themselves, husbands appearing at their wives’ sides asking for a dance.

The women straighten, smiles sharpening. One by one, they’re claimed.

I’m still alone when the first song reaches its chorus.

I glance toward the balcony without meaning to.

Zane isn’t back yet.

Good it’s not like I want him to dance with me or anything like that.

I take another sip, letting the glass rest against my lower lip longer than necessary.

A light tap lands on my shoulder.

I turn, already prepared with a polite smile that freezes when I see who it is.

He’s tall. Not Zane-tall, but close enough. Dark hair, loosened tie, eyes bright with amusement . He looks... easy.

"Hi Elaine," he says, offering a hand. "I’m Donald."

Recognition clicks.....The groomsman, Zane’s friend. The one who vanished with him to the balcony.

"Nice to finally meet you," I reply, taking his hand.

"Likewise," he says. "I’ve heard you’re surviving the evening better than most would."

"Is that what he said?" I ask.

Donald grins. "He didn’t say much at all."

That tracks.

We exchange small talk, the harmless kind. He asks about the ceremony. I ask how long he’s known Zane. He gives me a vague answer that says years without specifying how many. There’s laughter between us real laughtet.

Then he glances toward the dance floor.

"Would you do me the honor," he says, mock-formal, "of being yoru first dance of the night?"

I hesitate for half a second.

Then I nod. "Sure."

He leads me out easily, one hand warm and steady at my back. No tension. No possessiveness. Just... movement

We fall into step without effort.

Donald dances well, impressesivelt well. Like he enjoys it rather than tolerates it. He spins me once, gentle, controlled, and I laugh despite myself.

"There it is," he says. "That laugh."

"What about it?"

"It’s louder than I expected," he says. "Zane said you’re quieter."

"Zane doesn’t lnow me very well."

That earns a bark of laughter from him, loud enough to turn a few heads.

We talk as we dance. About nothing important in particular, about music, about how ridiculous formal events can be. He tells me a story about Zane refusing to dance at a charity gala once and bribing the band to take a break.

I laugh again, louder this time.

And for a few minutes, I forget where I am.

Forget who I married and why

Forget the weight of the ring on my finger.

Then the space behind me changes.

Donald feels it too, his hand falters slightly at my back.

"Ah," he says lightly. "Zane, you are here."

Zane’s hand closes around mine firmly.

He slides his other hand to my waist, fingers pressing just enough to make his presence undeniable. I turn, and there he is.

Donald steps back smoothly. "I’ll steal you later," he says with a wink.

Zane doesn’t acknowledge him.

We start moving, though I didn’t agree to this dance.

Unlike his friend .....who earlier had spun me around the floor like dancing was second nature...Zane is stiff. His frame is controlled and deliberate. He looks like he’s negotiating a contract rather than dancing with his wife.

I glance up at him. "You don’t have to dance with me, you know."

His jaw tightens. " we are expected to."

"Especially if you’re going to make that face," I add. "The one that looks like you’re having difficulty taking a shit."

He looks down at me, clearly offended. "I do not look like that."

"You should see it from where I’m standing."

We move in silence for a few steps. His grip on my waist is firm, almost too firm.

"What did my friend say to you," he asks suddenly.

"About what?"

"Anything." 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

I shrug. "He just warned about how much you lack basic courtesy ."

He stops mid-step.

The hand on my hip tightens. Hard enough that I know I’ll feel it later.

His sigh sounds dragged up from somewhere deep and exhausted. "Did you learn to run that mouth at the expensive college your brothers paid for? Is that where you learned to be an absolute brat?."

I angle my head, offering a faint smile. "It’s funny, I’m the picture of humility when I’m with anyone else but you, It’s you who brings this side out in me."

"Funny, very funny ." he repeats flatly.

We resume dancing.

His eyes stay on me now.. As if he’s trying to figure out whether is going on in his mind.

"You seemed comfortable," he says. "With Donald."

"He is friendly."

"That’s not what I asked."

I lift a brow. "Is this jealousy i sense?"

"No." He answers then.....

He exhales through his nose. "You’re my wife, I don’t want you flirting with other people, that’s not very telling of you."

I don’t miss the emphasis on the word wife.

"Oh don’t be stupid" I reply. "That doesn’t mean I stop associating ."

His hand shifts on my waist to my ass, thumb pressing lightly.

I laugh quietly. "You disappear for twenty minutes and suddenly you’re territorial."

"I didn’t disappear," he says. "I stepped away with a friend. "

I shrug. "I danced with one too."

That earns me a look.

Good

The song ends.

Applause rises around us.

Zane doesn’t let go immediately.

When he finally does, he leans down just enough that only I can hear him.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," he says quietly. "This version of me that tolerates you"

I meet his gaze without flinching. "I was thinking the same thing."

And as we step apart, smiling for the room while bristling underneath, one thing settles firmly in my chest.

This marriage is going to be a battlefield

And neither of us plans to lose.