Chapter 5

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her drafting table. She tapped her pencil absently against the blueprint, her mind wandering far from the commercial complex she was supposed to be designing.

A sharp knock startled her. "Come in," she called, straightening in her chair.

Gabrielle, her assistant, entered with a tablet in hand. "Mr. Wilson wants to see you in Conference Room B. Something about the Martin Group project."

Evelyn's pulse quickened. Nathaniel. Just the mention of anything related to him sent her heart into overdrive. "Tell him I'll be right there."

She took a moment to compose herself, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her blouse. The elevator ride down felt interminable, each floor passing with agonizing slowness.

Gregory was already waiting when she arrived, his expression unreadable. "They've moved up the deadline," he said without preamble. "Martin wants preliminary designs by Friday."

"That's impossible!" The words burst out before she could stop them. "We need at least two more weeks for proper structural analysis."

Gregory shrugged. "Take it up with Nathaniel. He's waiting in his office." His lips quirked. "Though I suspect you won't mind the excuse to see him."

Heat flooded Evelyn's cheeks. "This is strictly professional."

"Of course it is." Gregory's knowing smile made her want to throw something at him.

The walk to Nathaniel's office felt like walking the plank. His secretary, Samuel, waved her through with a polite nod.

Nathaniel stood by the window, silhouetted against the Manhattan skyline. He turned as she entered, and even after all these months, the intensity of his gaze still stole her breath.

"Evelyn." Her name was a caress. "I was hoping you'd come yourself."

She forced her voice to remain steady. "Gregory mentioned the deadline change. We can't possibly—"

"I know." He closed the distance between them in three strides. "But my grandfather is insisting. I need your help."

The raw vulnerability in his tone undid her. Up close, she could see the shadows under his eyes, the tension in his jaw. Without thinking, she reached up to touch his face. "What's really going on?"

His hand covered hers, holding it against his cheek. "Edward's health is declining. He wants to see this project completed... in case..."

The unspoken words hung between them. Evelyn's throat tightened. "I'll make it work," she whispered.

Nathaniel's other hand came up to frame her face. His thumb brushed her lower lip, sending shivers down her spine. "Thank you," he murmured, just before his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that tasted of desperation and promise.

A discreet cough from the doorway had them springing apart. Samuel stood there, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Mr. Martin, your eleven o'clock is here."

Nathaniel stepped back, but his eyes never left Evelyn's. "We'll continue this later."

As she walked back to her office, Evelyn touched her tingling lips. The project deadline was the least of her worries now. Because no matter how professional she tried to be, one thing was becoming painfully clear—she was falling hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Nathaniel Martin.

"I'll be there shortly. Make sure the nurse stays with you, alright?" Nathaniel's tone was soft, but his jaw clenched imperceptibly. His expression darkened into something unreadable after hearing Isabella's words.

Isabella practically glowed at his response. "Okay, I'll wait for you."

As soon as the call ended, Nathaniel's gaze flickered toward the staircase, his features hardening. He instructed the maid to remind Evelyn to eat before he strode out the door.

Moments later, the roar of an engine cut through the silence. From the bedroom window, Evelyn watched the sleek black car disappear down the driveway.

Her face was a mask of indifference, but the bitterness in her smile betrayed her. Visions of Nathaniel rushing to Isabella's side, consumed with worry, played relentlessly in her mind.

He truly loves her. So why am I still clinging to hope?

...

Nathaniel didn’t return to Pineview Villa that night. Evelyn knew he must have stayed at the hospital with Isabella.

It was the first time since their marriage that he had spent the night away—outside of business trips.

Evelyn didn’t text or call him. She had been trained to be the perfect wife—dignified, graceful, and above all, understanding.

Before marrying Nathaniel, her mother, Margaret Mitchell, and the other women in the family had drilled into her the art of being a wife who never inconvenienced her husband.

I’ve done everything right. So why does he still look at me with such indifference? The answer was painfully clear: He despises me too much to ever care.

She forced herself to face the truth. He doesn’t love me. He never will.

Sleep eluded her until dawn, but even then, it was fleeting. Her phone rang barely an hour later.

Nathaniel’s name flashed on the screen.

Evelyn answered, her voice rough with exhaustion. "Yes?"

"Are you awake?" he asked.

"Obviously," she replied flatly.

Nathaniel didn’t miss a beat. "Pack two outfits for Isabella and bring them to the hospital. She doesn’t want anyone else seeing her like this, so I need you to deliver them personally."

It wasn’t a request. It was a command.

Evelyn blinked, her face pale from lack of sleep. A beat of silence passed before she spoke. "You want me to bring them?"

"Yes. As soon as possible," he confirmed.

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the phone. "I barely know Ms. Davis. Won’t she be uncomfortable with me seeing her in this state?"

"She’ll manage. Just get here." His tone brooked no argument.

Evelyn bit her lip, the ache in her chest deepening. This is the last time, she told herself. The last time I bend to his will.

With forced calm, she replied, "I’ll be there in an hour."

She hung up before he could respond.

Trying to suppress the sting of his words was futile—each one carved deeper into her heart.

Is this his way of punishing me for riding home with Gregory last night?

Whether it was true or not, one thing was certain: she wanted out of this marriage more than ever.

With Isabella awake, this was only the beginning. Nathaniel would devote himself to her completely, and Evelyn would be left on the sidelines, forced to endure it.

She couldn’t live like that.

After pulling two unworn outfits from her wardrobe—clothes that were refreshed every season but never touched—Evelyn drove to the hospital.

Just as she raised her hand to knock on the ward door, a voice drifted through the gap.

"Nathaniel, I must look hideous right now. Will Evelyn laugh at me when she sees me?"

The question hung in the air, sharp as a blade.