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

Chapter 2037

Nathaniel navigated the drive home, and he told Cecilia about Elena and Wren. Beside him, Cecilia leaned forward, concern creasing her brow while the car hummed through the night.

"Dad's words are too hurtful. No wonder Mom insists on getting a divorce," Cecilia said.

As a woman herself, she felt Elena's humiliation like a bruise under her own skin.

Nathaniel reached over, threading his fingers through hers. "Dad will regret this one day," he said quietly, conviction flickering in his dark eyes.

Everyone in the Rainsworth family had witnessed Elena's devotion. Wren had been too busy soaking in luxury to notice the cost paid by the woman beside him.

"Let's hope so." Cecilia nodded. "If Dad realizes this sooner, it'll be good for Mom, too. She won't be giving everything for nothing."

Their conversation dwindled as the car rolled beneath iron gates and into the courtyard of the Smith residence, the manor crouching under a quilt of new snow.

The family climbed out, boots crunching across the frosted path that led toward the warm glow of the front doors.

Jonathan had been brought home as well, mainly to keep Queenie company during the bleak winter evenings.

Inside, Charlotte sat with Queenie on the sun-room balcony, both women wrapped in knitted throws, marveling at flurries drifting past the glass.

Queenie looked far brighter tonight. When she spotted her family, her eyes lit up. "Ceci!"

Cecilia hurriedly walked toward her. "Mom, why are you up?"

Charlotte immediately replied, "Mdm. Queenie said she needed some fresh air and insisted on leaving the house."

caught Cecilia's hand, her

Lottie is just keeping me company, chatting while we watch

wouldn't blame Charlotte. She was grateful beyond

just worried you'll get cold. Didn't

There's no wind

tangled in her throat. She knew all too well that a

to eye level and, after a breath, murmured, "Then let me sit

in a dark

away without a sound,

sank onto the bench

shoulder to its metal frame and threading her fingers

hadn't even

woman fell sick, but the hand she clasped wa shockingly thin, parchment

bone, stippled with IV punctures and bruises that

to fade.

s

as the snow.

request stunned her. Cecilia lifted her head, not

"We'll go back

understood that she

her illness too well. If she passed away without warning,