Chapter 37

The morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains, casting golden patterns across our bedroom floor. I stretched beneath the silken sheets, savoring the rare moment of tranquility before the storm I knew was coming. Nathaniel's side of the bed was already cold—he'd left for his early meeting without waking me. Again.

My phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand. Gabrielle's name flashed across the screen with three missed calls. Something was wrong.

"Evelyn, thank God!" Gabrielle's voice crackled with urgency when I answered. "The Summit Realty deal—it's falling apart. Sebastian Wilson just pulled out, and Jonathan Blake is demanding revisions to the blueprints by noon."

I sat bolt upright, the sheets pooling around my waist. "What? We signed contracts last week!" My fingers tightened around the phone. This wasn't just another project—this was our firm's chance to prove we could handle high-profile clients without Nathaniel's influence.

The marble floors were icy beneath my bare feet as I paced. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I watched Alfred direct the gardeners below, his movements precise as always. The familiar sight grounded me.

"I've already called Daniel Carter," Gabrielle continued. "He's pulling the original team together at the office. But Evelyn..." Her hesitation made my stomach twist. "There's more. Isabella Davis was spotted having breakfast with Sebastian yesterday at The Grand."

The name hit me like a physical blow. Isabella—Nathaniel's first love, the woman whose shadow I'd never quite escaped. My reflection in the vanity mirror showed dark circles I couldn't blame entirely on lost sleep.

A soft knock interrupted us. "Madam," Alfred's voice carried through the door. "Your mother is on the line. She says it's urgent."

I ended the call with Gabrielle, my mind racing. Two crises before 8 AM. Perfect.

"Margaret?" I answered, bracing myself.

"Evelyn, darling." Her tone was all wrong—too bright, too forced. "Your father and I need to see you today. At the estate. It's about your grandmother Beatrice."

The world tilted slightly. Beatrice had been the bedrock of our family since Grandfather Charles passed. If something happened to her...

"I'll be there by noon," I promised, already calculating how to rearrange my collapsing schedule.

As I dressed, my gaze caught on the framed photo from our wedding—Nathaniel's arms around me, both of us laughing like we hadn't a care in the world. That seemed like another lifetime now.

The intercom buzzed. "Madam," Alfred announced, "Mr. Martin is on his way up. He says it's important."

My pulse stuttered. Nathaniel never came home during work hours. Whatever brought him back now couldn't be good.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal my husband, his usually impeccable tie loosened, a file clutched in his white-knuckled grip. His stormy eyes met mine, and in that moment, I knew.

Our carefully constructed world was about to shatter.

Evelyn thought bitterly, He must have just returned from his trip, yet here he is—rushing straight to the hospital with Isabella. How utterly devoted.

Nathaniel met Edward's gaze. "Grandfather—"

"Do I still hold that title in your eyes? Or are you simply counting the days until I'm gone?" Edward interrupted sharply.

"Grandfather, I would never think that way. Please don't say such things," Nathaniel protested.

Edward ignored him.

Richard stepped in. "Father, your health comes first. Don't waste your energy on him." He shot Nathaniel a cold look. "You claimed you were on a business trip. Care to explain this?"

"I just got back. Isabella wasn’t feeling well, so I took her to the doctor. I assumed with you, Mother, and Evelyn here, I could visit Grandfather at the manor tonight."

"I don’t need your visits. In fact, I might live longer without them," Edward scoffed.

Nathaniel clenched his jaw, swallowing his words. Normally, Evelyn would have smoothed things over, but today, she remained silent.

She had no words left.

She hadn’t even known about his trip until someone else mentioned it. And now, his sudden reappearance with Isabella only deepened the sting.

Edward took her silence as proof of Nathaniel’s neglect.

"See? You’ve hurt her so deeply she won’t even speak up for you anymore. Nathaniel, did we raise you to treat your wife this way?"

Isabella stepped forward, offering a gentle smile.

No one acknowledged her.

She bit her lip. "Mr. Martin, congratulations on your discharge. Are you feeling better?"

Edward snorted. "What? Disappointed I’m not bedridden?"

Isabella paled. "I didn’t mean—"

"Enough. Save your theatrics. I may be old, but I’m not blind. Unlike some."

Evelyn blinked in surprise. Edward’s tone, usually warm with her, was razor-sharp now.

And strangely, it felt good to watch Isabella flounder.

The tension thickened until Isabella whispered, "Mr. Martin, I’m sorry for upsetting you."

"Then stay away. You’re giving me a headache."

Isabella glanced at Nathaniel, pleading silently. He said nothing.

Defeated, she retreated.

Finally, Nathaniel spoke. "Grandfather, it’s crowded here. Let the driver take you back to the manor first."

"Now you’re dictating my schedule?"

"That’s not what I meant."

"Save it. Be at dinner tonight, or consider yourself no longer part of this family."

Edward turned to Evelyn, his expression softening. "Come, Evelyn. Let’s not let certain people ruin our day."

Evelyn nodded, guiding him out.

Richard glared at Nathaniel but held his tongue. Victoria hissed, "Fix this mess—or I will."

Then she left.

Nathaniel stood frozen, watching them go. Isabella touched his arm. "Nathaniel, your grandfather is angry. Shouldn’t you go after him?"

He turned to her. "No. You said you weren’t feeling well. Let’s see the doctor."

She nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes.

She had timed this perfectly—calling him the moment he returned, claiming headaches, fragments of that night resurfacing.

And he’d come.

But now, she wondered: Was he staying out of guilt? Obligation?

She studied his profile, but his thoughts remained unreadable.

By seven, the manor was alive with laughter.

Edward, in high spirits, presided over the lavish dinner spread.

Nathaniel entered the hall. "Grandfather. Mother. Father."

Silence.

Edward beckoned Evelyn. "Sit beside me, dear. Eat well."

"Thank you, Grandfather. You too."

Edward beamed.

Nathaniel observed them, his expression unreadable.

Midway through the meal, Edward set down his fork.

"I’ve decided. If divorce is what you both want, I won’t stand in the way. Life’s too short for forced unions. You have my blessing."

The table stilled.

Evelyn’s grip on her spoon tightened. She’d wanted this—so why did it feel like a knife to the chest?

Victoria gasped. "Father! You always supported their marriage. Why change your mind now?"

"I won’t let Evelyn suffer humiliation. He flaunts that woman publicly. Enough is enough."

Richard stayed silent, tacitly agreeing.

Nathaniel, too, said nothing.

Edward locked eyes with him. "Well? Happy now? When will you finalize the divorce?"