When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

Chapter 391 New Year

The Epean–style mantel clock inside the house chimed softly, signaling the arrival of midnight.

Martha glanced at the time and said, “It’s already midnight. I’m off to rest.”

“All right,” Cecilia replied, watching the elderly woman retreat inside. Her hand instinctively rested on her baby bump as Martha’s earlier words echoed in her mind, leaving her conflicted.

Just a few days ago, Martha had harbored nothing but disdain for Nathaniel. How did her feelings change so rapidly that she’s now suggesting I consider a future with him?

Cecilia glanced again toward Nathaniel and the children, but she still shook her head.

No. I can’t make the same mistake.

Once the branches and snow had been cleared, Nathaniel returned inside with the two kids. Without missing a beat, Cecilia lit the fireplace to warm them up. “Take a warm bath later and then get some sleep,” she instructed.

The children nodded. They had only been directing Nathaniel, so the cold hadn’t gotten to them.

Nathaniel, however, bore the brunt of the winter chill. His slender, graceful hands had turned a frosty red, but his expression remained as stoic as ever.

undertook menial tasks and manual labor that

events, Cecilia felt a growing apprehension about facing him. Once the two little ones were warmed up, she quickly ushered them off

but the fire of desire in Nathaniel’s heart had finally been

was up early, bustling around to prepare a delicious breakfast

abroad, she had always celebrated Christmas but never truly experienced a New Year’s Day celebration. This year was different, and

was surprised to find Nathaniel already there, chatting

he exuded a warm, homely charm that

behind him, Nathaniel set down the ravioli he was holding and turned his head slightly. “Ceci,” he said, his

people by the sound of their footsteps when there

bit awkward. “Are we having

in with a smile, “I’ve prepared a variety of pure vegetable–filled ravioli. Would you like to come over and help

there, she hesitated, not taking another.

laundry,” she blurted out before

she washed the children’s clothes in the laundry room, she slapped her own face lightly, muttering to herself, “What’s there to be embarrassed

all the times they had been close, unaware that Elliot had been standing outside the door for who knows how long. With a yawn, he asked, “Mommy, what

glanced toward the doorway, her face flushing red once again

she replied, trying to brush