Chapter 11

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow across the bedroom. Evelyn stretched lazily, her fingers brushing against the empty space beside her. Nathaniel had already left for work, as usual.

She sighed, rolling onto her back. The events of last night still lingered in her mind—the way Nathaniel had held her close after their argument, his whispered apologies, the warmth of his touch. It had been a rare moment of vulnerability between them.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. A message from Gregory: "Meeting at 10. Don’t be late."

Evelyn groaned. She had completely forgotten about the client presentation. Throwing off the covers, she hurried to the bathroom, the cool tiles sending a shiver up her bare legs.

As she dressed, her thoughts drifted back to Nathaniel. Their marriage had been a whirlwind—love at first sight, a fairy-tale wedding, and then… reality. The late nights, the missed anniversaries, the growing distance. And now, Isabella was back in the picture.

Evelyn clenched her fists. She wouldn’t let Isabella ruin what she and Nathaniel had built.

Downstairs, Alfred was setting the breakfast table. "Good morning, Mrs. Martin," he greeted with a polite nod.

"Morning, Alfred," she replied, grabbing a piece of toast. "Has Nathaniel left already?"

"Yes, ma'am. He mentioned an early meeting with Mr. Yates."

Of course. Work always came first.

Evelyn checked her watch. She had just enough time to review the presentation slides before heading to the office.

The drive downtown was uneventful, the city streets bustling with morning commuters. Her mind, however, was anything but calm. Isabella’s sudden reappearance had stirred up old insecurities. What if Nathaniel still had feelings for her?

The office building loomed ahead. Evelyn took a deep breath, steeling herself. She wouldn’t let personal drama affect her professionalism.

Gregory was waiting in the conference room, his expression unreadable. "Cutting it close, aren’t we?"

"Traffic," she lied smoothly, setting down her bag.

The meeting went surprisingly well. The clients loved their design proposal, and Gregory even cracked a rare smile.

Afterward, as they packed up, he glanced at her. "You okay? You seem… distracted."

Evelyn hesitated. "Just some personal stuff."

Gregory nodded, not pressing further. "Well, whatever it is, don’t let it mess with your work."

She forced a smile. "I won’t."

Back at her desk, Evelyn’s phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from an unknown number: "We need to talk. It’s about Nathaniel. —I."

Her stomach dropped. Isabella.

Evelyn stared at the screen, her fingers trembling. What could Isabella possibly want?

Before she could respond, another message popped up: "Meet me at The Rose Café. 3 PM."

Evelyn’s pulse quickened. This was it—the confrontation she’d been dreading.

She took a shaky breath. Whatever Isabella had to say, Evelyn would face it head-on.

But first, she had to get through the rest of the workday.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second stretching into an eternity.

Three o’clock couldn’t come fast enough.

Evelyn thought to herself, This can only end in my own humiliation.

Nathaniel caught the strange undertone in her words. Is she talking about me? Or is this about something else entirely? Am I imagining things? He wondered silently.

Evelyn didn’t want to continue this conversation. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her emotions in check. Ever since yesterday, she had been repeating the same mantra in her head: Evelyn, stop hoping. There’s no point. There’s no future here. He will never love you. Everything you’ve done—every sacrifice—is meaningless, and worse, it might even push him further away.

She inhaled deeply, steadying herself before slipping back into her usual composed demeanor.

The two drove back to the Martin estate just as dusk settled over the hills.

The manor was nestled in the affluent outskirts of Mayby, where only the city’s elite resided.

Hand in hand, Evelyn and Nathaniel stepped into the grand living room, where Edward was already waiting. The moment he saw her, his stern face softened into a warm smile.

"Evelyn! You’re finally here. Come, let me see if you’ve lost weight. Has this grandson of mine been treating you well?"

She immediately released Nathaniel’s arm and hurried to Edward’s side, playfully massaging his shoulders. "Grandfather, I’m perfectly fine. If anything, I’ve gained weight! Maybe I should start watching what I eat."

Edward narrowed his eyes, feigning seriousness. "Nonsense. You’re perfect as you are. And don’t you dare starve yourself like those silly girls these days."

Evelyn laughed softly. "Alright, I promise. But you have to take care of yourself too, understand?"

"Hmph. You haven’t visited me in weeks," he grumbled, though his eyes twinkled with affection.

She bit her lip, realizing it had been nearly a month since her last visit. Edward wasn’t truly upset—he just wanted her to fuss over him.

With effortless charm, she had him laughing within minutes.

Nathaniel watched from the side, a faint smile on his lips. She really knows how to handle him.

He couldn’t help but wonder—what was it about Evelyn that made his grandfather adore her so much? More than his own flesh and blood, even.

"Grandfather," Nathaniel finally spoke, "next time, just invite Evelyn. No need to drag me along just to be ignored."

Edward’s smile vanished instantly. He shot his grandson a sharp glare. "What? You think you’re too important to visit your own grandfather now?"

Nathaniel sighed. "That’s not what I meant."

"It certainly sounds like it," Edward snapped. "You’ve grown too bold, boy. Defying me now, are you?"

Evelyn quickly stepped in, as she always did. "Grandfather, anger causes wrinkles. You wouldn’t want that, would you?"

Edward chuckled despite himself. "Always teasing me."

"I’m only speaking the truth," she replied sweetly.

"Don’t defend him," Edward warned, though his tone had softened. "Or he’ll keep taking advantage of you."

Nathaniel exhaled in exasperation. I didn’t even say anything. "Grandfather, I wouldn’t dare."

"You’d better not," Edward muttered.

The tension eased slightly, thanks to Evelyn’s intervention.

Soon after, Nathaniel’s parents—Richard and Victoria—arrived. Evelyn greeted them with effortless grace, charming them as effortlessly as she did Edward.

The family moved to the dining room, where the table was set for dinner.

Edward hadn’t touched his food yet, and everyone waited.

Then, in a voice that carried the weight of decades of authority, he spoke.

"Nathaniel. I heard from Evelyn’s parents that you want a divorce."

The air turned heavy.

All eyes shifted to Evelyn and Nathaniel.

She pressed her lips together, silent.

Nathaniel met his grandfather’s gaze steadily. "That’s between Evelyn and me. I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of it."