His Father Bought Me-Chapter 43: It Wasn’t A Fall

Estelle straightened abruptly in her chair, her breath catching as her pulse spiked. "I fell," she said aloud. "I’m sure of it." But doubt crept in anyway. What if he’s right? Her fingers tightened slightly against the armrest. No. You don’t guess something like that. You know.

Her heart began to pound, the sound filling her ears as she reached for her phone. The screen lit up, cold against her palm. She clicked the YouTube icon and her fingers moved quickly, muscle memory taking over as she searched for the video. For her performance, that performance.

She tapped the video and it loaded in seconds and she watched it, carefully. The music, the spin, the glide and then the fall came. She leaned forward slightly, her brows drawing together. Then she dragged the timeline back again. Nothing

She watched different angles, zooming in on the moment her skate slipped, her body twisting toward the ice. But she found nothing. No hand, no obstruction, no clear cause. Just the fall.

Estelle exhaled sharply, leaning back as she scoffed under her breath. "He’s just trying to mess with my head." But the certainty didn’t stick, it slid off too easily. Because even as she sat there, staring at the screen, something else surfaced. Her mother’s calculating eyes at the hospital, and the way her father couldn’t quite look her in the eye.

Estelle swallowed, her grip on the phone tightened and then an idea dropped. She opened her call log, her thumb scrolling down the list of names. It slowed, then stopped on Victoria. Her jaw tightened. She needed answers. But she didn’t click it, her finger just hovered as a beat passed.

Then she shook her head, a faint, humorless breath leaving her. "She’ll never give me the truth." With that, her thumb moved again, past Henry’s name and then it stopped on Justin. This time, she didn’t hesitate even though she knew he would be mad at her, she would still try.

She tapped the call button and waited, the soft ringing filling the quiet room. Her fingers began to drum against the armrest of her chair, restless, uneven, her thoughts moving even faster. Pick up, Justin. Please. The line kept ringing, and ringing. Nothing.

Estelle’s shoulders sagged as frustration settled in. She exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around the phone. She needed help. She needed to know what had really happened the day she fell.

Suddenly, her phone rang. The sharp sound cut clean through the silence, making her flinch slightly. She glanced down at the screen. Unknown number. She hesitated for a second, and then answered, lifting the phone to her ear.

"Estelle?" Justin’s voice came through the line.

Relief hit her so quickly it almost made her dizzy. She exhaled, the tension slipping just a little. "Justin..." she breathed. "You have no idea how much—"

"What do you want after betraying me like that?" His voice came in cold and flat, stopping her mid-sentence. "I don’t even know why I’m calling you from another line," he continued. "I should’ve just let your parents listen to our calls. Just say what you want, I don’t have time."

Estelle swallowed, her chest tightening. "I didn’t betray you, Justin. You have to trust me," she said, her voice steady. "I was sold off like... like a piece of property. I didn’t even get to read the marriage contract. What you saw was just—" She stopped. The explanation stuck in her throat, bitter and useless.

Justin let out a long sigh on the other end. "After what I saw, I don’t know what to believe anymore," he said. There was hesitation now, but the hurt was still there. "Are you going to say it was all make-believe?" He paused. "Your mother told us you agreed to go with the Whitehalls because they offered to pay for your surgery. And honestly," he exhaled, "after what I watched this morning, I don’t doubt her."

Estelle’s eyes burned, but she blinked quickly, forcing the sting back. This wasn’t the time to defend herself. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, steadying herself. "That’s not why I called you, Justin," she said, firmer this time. "I need your help."

"And why would I help you?" he shot back.

Estelle’s fingers tightened around the phone as her pulse thudded in her ears. "Because," she started, then the words rushed out before she could soften them, "the fall wasn’t an accident."

Silence slammed into the line.

"Estelle..." his voice dropped, sharper now. "That’s not something you just say. You fell. We all saw it," he added, his voice filled with a mix of doubt and confusion.

Estelle tightened her grip on the armrest, her fingers pressing into the fabric. "I know what it looked like," she said, forcing her voice to stay steady. "But something about it doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve landed triple axels more times than I can count, Justin. And it’s always been clean and perfect. I don’t just miss like that." She exhaled softly, her gaze drifting unfocused. "And yet, I can’t explain what went wrong."

A faint static crackled through the line before Justin spoke again. "It’s skating, Estelle. Even the best fall sometimes. That’s just reality."

"I know," she murmured, her voice more certain. "I know how it sounds. But I can’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t just a mistake. Someone said something, just a passing comment, and it’s been stuck in my head ever since." She paused, her pulse thudding in her ears. "You were there that night. Did you notice anything? Anyone acting strange? Anything at all?"

Silence stretched between them for a beat too long.

Then Justin sighed, the sound heavy, reluctant. "No, Estelle, nothing out of the ordinary. It was just another event, crowded, loud, normal." He hesitated. "Except..." he stopped abruptly.

Estelle’s grip tightened on the phone. "Except what?" she demanded, her pulse pounding in her ears.

"Forget it," he said quickly. "It’s probably nothing."