No More Settling for Less Love

Synopsis

To Eleanor Shaw, her marriage to Ryan Grant was like a glass of lukewarm water left standing far too long. It never chilled the throat, nor burned with heat. Safe enough to drink, yet utterly tasteless and hollow. Three years had slipped by in this lifeless routine. At twenty-four, she'd walked down the aisle and become the envy of everyone in their circle. As the sole heir to the Grant family fortune and the youngest vice president of Grant Corporation, Ryan cut an imposing figure at six feet two inches tall. He was sharp-featured, aloof, and undeniably handsome, turning heads everywhere he went. Against all social expectations, he'd chosen Eleanor: a humble high school art teacher with working-class parents, far from the elite pedigree everyone assumed a Grant spouse would have. On her wedding day, standing before the mirror in a custom bridal gown, Eleanor smiled to herself, eyes soft with naive hope, wondering if her own fairy tale had finally begun. Looking back now, all she could do was let out a bitter laugh. Fairy tales never bothered to write the quiet emptiness of life after the wedding vows. Friday arrived, and for once, Ryan mentioned heading home early. Eleanor stopped by the grocery store to pick up fresh oxtail, set on simmering his favorite classic borscht. Warm aromas of ripe tomato and slow-braised beef wrapped around the kitchen as she stirred the pot, mentally bracing herself to broach the same awkward topic yet again. Earlier today, Ryan's mother, Ashley Grant, had called once more, her tone sweet on the surface but sharp with hidden pressure. "Eleanor, three years married and still no little one on the way? I hate to nag, but look at Mrs. Williams. Her son just welcomed his second baby..." Beneath the polite pleasantries lay unspoken judgment, plain and unmissable. Eleanor had undergone a full round of fertility screenings at the clinic, every result coming back perfectly healthy. Ryan had also completed his own medical workup, with no physical issues detected on his end. The doctor told them plainly that both were in perfect health; it was simply a matter of chance, a minor genetic compatibility quirk that only patience could resolve. "Just give it more time." That was always Ryan's standard line, spoken in a flat tone as indifferent as commenting on the day's weather. She turned the stove down to a gentle simmer and reached for her phone, ready to text Ryan and ask his ETA. Her fingers froze mid-motion.