Dark Revenge Of An Unwanted Wife: The Twins Are Not Yours!

Chapter 239: Long Night III

Athena lifted her head from Antonio’s shoulder, cutting his mocking laughter short.

She took her lower lip in slowly, trying to understand why she felt so guilt-pricked at the sight of Ewan looking so downcast. Was it because Mr. and Mrs. Thorne were regarding her with a plea and a taint of sorrow? Or was it something else?

She looked at her children. They appeared just as confused as she was. However, Kathleen’s face was also besotted with another emotion—pity.

Athena chewed on her lower lip and realized she needed to salvage the situation because it was quite bad. Ewan was here to see the children, not to get humiliated.

"What is the name of the book?" She finally spoke, retrieving her hand from Antonio’s grip and breaking the tense silence. If she felt bad about this, then it was bad.

Ewan might have done a lot of things, but at this moment, she needed to cut him some slack. Moreover, there had to be a reason for why he had gotten her books.

She recalled the last gift he had given her, and her brow furrowed now as she watched Gianna peer into the gift bag again. Her heart rate picked up as a knowing feeling rose within her—could it be Coleen’s?

She nodded slowly in resignation, looking at Ewan a second later, when Gianna met her gaze and spoke up. "It’s from your favorite author, Coleen Hoover."

Of course, Athena thought, not sure what to do with the varying feelings swelling up within her, especially as Ewan’s head remained bowed. Antonio’s laugh must have dealt a significant blow to his ego.

Yet, wasn’t that why she had wanted Antonio here? To destroy whatever hope Ewan had concerning her and the children?

"Ewan, thank you. Old Mr. Thorne is right. You give thoughtful gifts," She said, getting to her feet, accepting the gift from Gianna. A smile touched her lips when she saw the titles of the books—they were the recent releases from the author.

When she looked at Ewan again, he was looking at her this time, with relief.

"I’m glad you liked it. But if you want an Areso gown..."

Athena chuckled before she could help it. "No, I don’t. This is perfect. Thank you very much. I’ve wanted these books for a while." She paused, curtailing her excitement—she didn’t want to send the message that she was very cool with him now. "So, what did you get for the twins?"

Ewan wetted his lips as the nervousness returned, clasping his hands tight, causing a furrow to mar Athena’s forehead, as well as the twins’.

This time, Sandro, eager to get this over and done with, so that his friend could breathe easier, got to his feet and sauntered over to the remaining packages. He started with Kathleen’s.

’O’ when Sandro brought out the castle puzzle and set,

whispered angry calls, and met Sandro halfway. "Is it for me?" She asked, her

"Yes, beautiful one. What do

lips, darting a sharp glance at her mother. Athena gave

twinkling. "Thank you! How do you know I love drawing? It’s more like a

this time as if he was an interesting puzzle she was trying to solve. How did he know to get Kathleen a painting set? She glanced at Nathaniel, who was as shocked as his

Mr. Sandro..." Kathleen gushed, looking over the

smiling and gesturing to Ewan. "Your

what to do with that answer. Her hand gripped the material tightly as she pondered within herself if it was okay

many ways, yet, at this moment, holding proof of his thoughtfulness in her hands, she wondered if maybe... if maybe it was okay to give him a

aware of the tension brimming in the room, aware of the pressure on her

with hope shining in his eyes. Thinking of crushing that hope, of snubbing him like she had done earlier, made her feel

as she halted before him, with her hands still clutching the paintbrush set like

paused, then exhaled. "Thank you for the gift,

Overexcitement had him clenching his thighs so that he wouldn’t hug her to himself and inhale her

to keep his voice calm

Athena watched, surprised by the relief flooding through her when Kathleen offered a small smile before hurrying back to Sandro, who helped her move the packages to the side

fell on Nathaniel

his hands across his chest, his eyes focused

not surrounded by family and friends. It would have been easier for Ewan, for her, and for the children. This crowd, as familiar

"Nathaniel..."

from his seat and strolled blankly to Sandro,

his hands still folded across his chest, a frown masking his

him that sometimes it was better to forgive than to hold onto grievances, because life was

to his own father and lacking closure before the latter passed was one of the regrets he had, and

but they had an audience. So, he squatted before the lad, meeting his gaze steadily, amazed at the striking resemblance the latter bore with

thought better of it. This was not the time. He turned to

no hint of emotion, sinking a stone in Ewan’s heart. His son was very much like