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

Chapter 359: At Odds II

Athena was aware of the unresolved, slight tension between her and Antonio, as a result of her sharp response to his previous question, when she strolled into the living room with him in tow—but she didn’t let it worry her.

Ewan’s presence, however, was a case to be worried for—especially with his laughter booming across the room; with Kathleen sitting on his thigh, laughing.

Nathaniel was on his other thigh, gazing between his great-grandfather and his father while the duo made more arguments on football, with Chelsea fanning the flames. Florence sat beside her husband, showing silent support.

This picture—yes—was enough to spike Athena’s anxiety levels.

Without so much as a word (not that the jolly people in the room stopped their conversation to let them in), she hurried to the dining table and sat down. Antonio took the next seat.

"I am sorry," he started, as soon as he sat down. "But you can see why I am worried. He’s like a leech that won’t go away."

Athena frowned. She understood Antonio’s jealousy, yet it didn’t make her mild surprise go away; she had always known Antonio as an accommodating person, not one with a bitterness to his voice that wouldn’t go away.

"He’s my children’s father, Antonio. Like a son to the Thornes too—would have been but for the intervention of Alfonso. You will have to get used to his presence."

Antonio nodded. "Maybe. But I think I can only relax properly when we are married."

That word again. Athena unconsciously let the fork down—the latter making a clanging noise on the ceramic plate and quenching the noise in the living room.

It confirmed Athena’s suspicions that her family was very much aware of her presence, for how else would they have heard that clang amidst their arguments and boisterous laughter?

"Athena, is the food not to your liking?" Florence broke the silence, darting a curious glance at Antonio, whose only attention was on Athena.

Beneath the table, his hand reached for her thighs, to soothe her, to placate her, but Athena shuddered, unable to help it—to his chagrin.

"It’s tasty, Grandma. I’m just tired. I mustn’t have been holding the fork well."

A lie apparent to the adults in the room, but no one said anything.

"Please, you can continue the discussions. I won’t drop the fork again," she continued, eager to make the silence disappear, a teasing lilt in her voice.

This time, the twins chuckled before drawing their father into another round of conversation.

Ewan’s laugh again... what was happening to her? She met Old Mr. Thorne’s gaze, right before she returned to her

spoke, needing no words. She gave a barely-there nod, picking the fork

unable to take the tense silence between them, his hand dropping away from her

Ewan is

smoothly as she could, as confidently—whereas deep within her, she knew her

then were you so fraught with

for me. I asked for space, and

was—but the missing decibel was enunciated in

this move at a normal pace? Why inject roadblocks, which you think are speed boosters on the way? First, it

conviction and confidence. "Why do I confuse you? I’ve always been open about my feelings for

got into this state

to his face, hand weaving nothing in the air. "...when we were back in your country. You were a darling, both to me and the

then. You hated him then. I gave

to be feared, Athena thought, forcefully taking a forkful of food, wishing he

eat a reasonable amount of this palatable dish before

he was right, in his own way. He had respected her boundaries then. Ewan in the picture must have upset him so

I are in the past. We are the present,

across his tensed face

the sharp, almost silent

that when the time is right. However, you must remember my misgivings about it, my experience with it. So pardon me if I take more time than

her fork softly on the plate and touched

present. I hate cheats—do you think I will demote myself to that level? Besides, you have known the twins far longer than

held his face with both her hands

it, just at the same time that she noticed her voice decibel had increased, that the chatter

God. They were the center

a kiss on Antonio’s jaw—while convincing herself she had done nothing wrong—and returned to her food,

when she heard Chelsea’s "Wow," she knew that surely, they had

gusto, she sighed, relieved that

then, but she was surprised to

course. The

it to herself, indulging in forceful forkfuls of food, stamping down the urge to turn toward the sitting room