Chapter 458

Sheila opened the door, surprised to find Timothy standing there.

"Timothy, come in. Have a seat."

She reached out, ready to steady him, but Timothy sidestepped her hand. "I can walk on my own."

His sudden coldness stung in a way Sheila couldn't quite put into words. Still, she swallowed her discomfort.

"I'll make you some coffee."

"No need. I won't be staying long."

Sheila felt even more at a loss. What was he here for, then?

Timothy settled into the living room armchair. "Sit down."

Uneasy, Sheila perched on the edge of the couch.

Looking directly at her, Timothy got right to the point. "I just stopped by Ines's studio. From her, I learned that the reason she gave that painting, The Grand Canal, Venice, to Henry, was because she saw Jessy's style in one of Henry's papercut illustrations. So, that painting can't stay with you. I'm here to take it back."

Sheila stared at him, stunned.

This was the first time he'd ever asked to take back something he'd given her.

He really was starting to care more about Jessica.

But she didn't argue. "I see. Since it's hard for you to get around, I'll have someone bring it to you later."

have someone pick it up. Also, about Henry calling you his mother in public-please correct him in

it felt to Sheila as though everything had changed in

to keep

explain. "I don't want our family to fall apart. I used to think she could understand our relationship, but I've realized recently that she can't. I hope you won't be offended

"Timothy,

not getting any younger. I hope you'll consider

froze, her smile

do you realize

"I do."

me, then I'm your aunt—and as your elder, what right do you have

marry her, they were equals. But if he refused her now, she had every

family registration was with the Howards. She was Sandra and Abell's daughter, Timothy's aunt in

gaze lingered on

the first time Sheila had ever

together, almost as equals, so I shouldn't have said that. But I can't help

I kept my

tears. "All these years, I've racked my brain looking for ways to solve our problem, to bridge what separated us. Why, when I

broke

one who'd defied his

Sheila's eyes. "You know how much I love you. You promised me, even if we got married, we'd keep it secret-that was your

"That wasn't love."

Sheila felt herself unraveling.

She'd waited for him-waited until she was thirty, still a virgin, never even dated, never experienced the

turn away so

"Then what was it?"

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