Chapter 12

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Evelyn's office, casting golden patterns across her drafting table. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she studied the blueprints spread before her. The Crestwood project was proving more challenging than anticipated, and the deadline loomed closer with each passing day.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, straightening her posture.

Gabrielle, her assistant, stepped inside, holding a steaming cup of coffee. "Thought you could use this," she said with a knowing smile.

Evelyn accepted it gratefully, the rich aroma instantly grounding her. "You're a lifesaver."

Gabrielle hesitated, then added, "Mr. Wilson called while you were in your meeting. He said the client wants to see revisions by the end of the week."

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Of course they do." She took a sip of coffee, the warmth spreading through her. "Tell Gregory I’ll have them ready."

Just as Gabrielle turned to leave, Evelyn’s phone buzzed. A message from Nathaniel lit up the screen:

"Dinner tonight? I have something to discuss."

Her fingers hovered over the screen. Their last conversation had been tense, filled with unspoken words and lingering doubts. Still, curiosity won out.

"Sure. Where?" she typed back.

His reply was immediate. "The usual place. 8 PM."

Evelyn set her phone down, her mind racing. What could he possibly want to talk about?

The evening air was crisp as Evelyn stepped out of her car, the familiar glow of La Belle Étoile welcoming her. The upscale restaurant had been their spot since the early days of their relationship—before secrets and past loves had complicated everything.

Nathaniel was already seated at their usual corner table, his dark suit impeccably tailored, his expression unreadable. He stood as she approached, pulling out her chair with practiced ease.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, his gaze lingering on her.

Evelyn smoothed her emerald-green dress, suddenly self-conscious. "Thank you."

A waiter appeared, pouring them each a glass of wine before discreetly retreating.

Nathaniel swirled his glass, the deep red liquid catching the candlelight. "I wanted to talk about Isabella."

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her own glass. Of course. It always came back to her.

"She’s in town," he continued, his voice low. "And she wants to meet with you."

Evelyn’s breath hitched. "Me? Why?"

Nathaniel hesitated, his jaw tensing. "She says it’s important. About... the past."

The past. The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken implications.

Evelyn forced a steady breath. "When?"

"Tomorrow. If you’re willing."

She studied his face, searching for any hint of what he wasn’t saying. But Nathaniel had always been good at keeping his emotions locked away.

"Fine," she finally said. "I’ll meet her."

Nathaniel’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted. "Thank you."

Evelyn took a sip of wine, the taste suddenly bitter. Whatever Isabella wanted, it wouldn’t be good. And deep down, she knew—this meeting would change everything.

Back at home, Evelyn stood by the window, staring at the city lights below. Her phone buzzed again—this time, a message from Charlotte.

"You okay? You seemed off earlier."

Evelyn sighed, typing back. "Just tired. Long day."

She didn’t mention Isabella. Didn’t mention the unease coiling in her stomach.

Because some things, she needed to face alone.

And tomorrow, she would.

"Are you accusing me of overstepping?" Edward's voice thundered through the dining room as his palm struck the table with a sharp crack.

Richard immediately stepped in, his tone firm. "Nathaniel, apologize to your grandfather at once. Take back what you said about the divorce."

Nathaniel remained silent, his expression unreadable, while Victoria watched the scene unfold with visible distress.

Edward scoffed, his eyes blazing. "So, you've grown bold, haven't you? Defying me now? If you want that divorce, you'll have to wait until I'm in my grave. As long as I draw breath, you will not marry Isabella."

His chest heaved with anger, his breaths turning ragged as a coughing fit seized him.

Evelyn rushed to his side, pressing a glass of water into his trembling hands. "Grandfather, please, calm down—"

He waved her off weakly. "Evelyn, I've failed your grandfather. Had I known Nathaniel would turn out so heartless, I never would have bound you to him."

Evelyn met his gaze steadily. "Grandfather, it isn't like that. The truth is... I want this too. We've been married a year, and there's nothing between us. I don’t want to keep pretending."

A stunned silence fell over the room.

She offered a small, regretful smile. "I’m sorry to disappoint you all. Nathaniel and I are ending things amicably. We won’t be husband and wife anymore, but nothing else has to change. Isn’t it better to part ways than to stay miserable?"

Edward’s face darkened, conflict flickering in his aged eyes.

"Evelyn," he rasped, "I can't give you an answer yet. I need time." He pushed himself up from the table, his cane thudding against the floor. "Go ahead with dinner. I need to rest."

Evelyn instinctively reached for his arm, but he gently shook her off, offering only a weary smile before retreating.

Richard followed, concern etched into his features.

Victoria sighed, casting a reproachful glance at Nathaniel before turning to Evelyn. "Sit, dear. Edward isn’t angry with you. He just... can’t bear to lose you."

Evelyn nodded, though guilt twisted in her chest.

From the corner of her eye, she caught Nathaniel’s stormy expression. He must be furious, she thought bitterly. Without Edward’s approval, he can’t marry Isabella.

The realization made her lips curl in a humorless smile.

Edward never returned. Richard later informed them he had taken his medication and retired for the night.

"Reconsider this," Richard urged quietly. "Marriage isn’t something to discard lightly. Feelings can grow with time. Do you really want to break your grandfather’s heart?"

Evelyn nodded again, though her thoughts churned. It’s not just my decision. If it were up to me alone... but forced love is no love at all.

The drive back to Pineview Villa was suffocatingly silent.

Memories of their early days together flickered through Evelyn’s mind—Nathaniel’s rare smiles, the warmth of his hand in hers. She wished, foolishly, that time could have frozen then.

Then his phone rang.

Nathaniel answered, and Isabella’s voice, bright and hopeful, pierced through the quiet. "Nathaniel, how did it go? Did Edward agree?"

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around the seatbelt.

Of course he tells her everything. The thought was a blade twisting deeper. He loves her. Always has. And I was just... in the way.

She turned her face to the window, letting the night swallow her bitter smile.