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.

menial tasks and manual labor that he had never

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

fire of desire in Nathaniel’s heart had finally been

bustling around to prepare a delicious breakfast for the two

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

she was surprised to find

apron, he exuded a warm, homely

was holding and turned his

he had become adept at recognizing people by the sound of their footsteps when there were

still feeling a bit awkward. “Are we having ravioli

“I’ve prepared a variety of pure vegetable–filled ravioli. Would

there, she hesitated,

the kids just got back. I’m going to do their laundry,” she blurted out before quickly turning

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

plenty of times before… She tried to reassure herself, remembering all the times they had been close, unaware that Elliot had

face flushing red once again as she saw

nothing,” she replied, trying