Chapter 25
Evelyn's heart raced at the thought of revealing the truth to anyone. The consequences would be unthinkable!
Nathaniel's lips curled into a mocking smirk. "Don't flatter yourself. That performance was solely for Grandmother's benefit. You mean nothing to me."
She rose from her seat, smoothing her dress. "Then I'm free to leave?"
"Not so fast." His voice turned sharp. "How would it look if Grandmother discovers you sneaking out alone at midnight? What explanation would satisfy her?"
The memory of Eleanor's icy fingers made Evelyn hesitate. "When is her surgery scheduled?"
His jaw tightened. "You heard her. She refuses treatment."
Nathaniel's frown deepened. "Until she consents to the procedure, our divorce remains undisclosed."
"Understood," Evelyn agreed instantly. "I'll do everything possible to convince her."
His expression softened slightly. "Let's retire for the night."
Evelyn quickly texted Margaret. "Aunt Margaret, I won't return tonight. Please inform Alexander."
She'd promised to come home, but circumstances had changed. Eleanor's declining health took precedence. After enduring three years, what were a few more days?
Scanning the room, Evelyn searched for alternative sleeping arrangements. Only the king-sized bed stood in the master suite.
"I recall spare linens in the closet," she murmured, moving toward the walk-in. "The floor will suffice. It's summer anyway."
But the drawers revealed nothing. This made no sense - she distinctly remembered extra bedding.
Nathaniel's voice cut through her confusion. "Grandmother orchestrated this."
Understanding dawned. Eleanor still hoped for an heir. The truth would devastate her.
Evelyn's gaze flickered between Nathaniel and the solitary bed. "What now?"
"Share it. Don't concern yourself - if I wanted you, three years provided ample opportunity."
Her lips twisted wryly. The truth stung, but he wasn't wrong.
She settled on the far edge, shivering slightly from the air conditioning. Without a word, Nathaniel tossed her the duvet.
"Take it. I don't need it."
She accepted without protest. The pregnancy demanded caution against illness.
As Nathaniel lay beside her, sleep eluded him. He studied Evelyn's silhouette - so different from her usual sharp-tongued self. In slumber, she appeared almost... peaceful.
Hours later, warmth pressed against his chest. Evelyn had migrated across the bed, her face nuzzled into him. The transformation startled him - this vulnerable version intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
Morning found Evelyn alone. Checking the clock, she guessed Nathaniel was at his daily workout. Three years had ingrained his schedule in her memory.
Hunger drove her downstairs. She prepared lemon water and a croissant, the citrus scent refreshing the kitchen.
Nathaniel emerged from the gym, sweat glistening on his forehead. Spotting the familiar spread, his chest tightened. Perhaps her recent defiance had been an act after all.
But as he approached, Evelyn gathered her breakfast and walked away without acknowledgment. The empty counter mocked him. Even the lemon slices seemed to taunt his expectations.
He poured water, the taste turning bitter in his mouth. This wasn't how mornings used to be.
From the sofa, Evelyn felt his gaze but refused to react. She focused on her meal, determined to maintain this new dynamic.
Eleanor's arrival broke the tension. Over breakfast, Evelyn found her appetite surprisingly robust, eating with enthusiasm that drew pleased smiles from the older woman. The unspoken agreement between them all hung heavy in the air - for Eleanor's sake, they would maintain this fragile pretense.