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

Chapter 2048

"Keep it," Nicholas repeated, steel edging his tone-no room for refusal.

Yet Jocelyn remained motionless, stubborn as stone, her hands folded in her lap.

Nicholas exhaled in quiet frustration. "Can't you listen to me, just this once?"

Eyes lowered, she said, "I haven't done anything for you. When I resigned, you already paid me extra. I can't take more."

The words settled between them, a silence that stretched and deepened until even the clock dared not tick.

Nicholas lifted his cup again, then, almost against his will, asked, "And if something happened to me?"

"Huh?" Jocelyn's head snapped up. "Nicholas, what are you talking about?"

"Don't panic," he said, choosing each word carefully. "I mean hypothetically. If I'm gone, I'll have no real friends-only you. Can't I leave a portion of my money to you?"

Fear pricked the edges of her composure. "Don't say that, Mr. Nicholas. Nothing will happen to you. You've got family, and you'll have plenty of friends in time."

He shook his head faintly. "No... People think I'm easygoing, but I know most of them don't care for me at all," he confessed, disappointment clouding his voice. Seeing him like that only deepened her worry; a quiet, protective ache filled her chest.

Jocelyn's courage faltered the moment their gazes collided. Her fingers knotted together beneath the edge of the linen tablecloth, and when she finally spoke, her voice was scarcely louder than the rustle of candle flame. "Mr. Nicholas..."

between them had grown too solemn-offered an easy laugh that never quite reached his eyes. "All right, that was just

wrapped in gentleness, yet the weight of his trust left Jocelyn no room to refuse, and she

a tiny, resolute nod-trying, and half- failing, to mask the riot of

that drifted upward like slow choreography, filling the private room with the

a gentleness so casual it almost felt practiced. "Come on, eat while it's hot. I have no idea what you like,

anyone had served her with such deliberate care. Startled and shy, Jocelyn's cheeks warmed. "I'm fine with anything," she confessed, the words tripping over a small, disbelieving

changed the subject, his tone casual

sudden question, then gave a quick, honest

Yannick stirred an ache she had spent the entire evening keeping

the question

whether het

Yes, it does.

would fade; it had not. Liking someone was

of willpower, and her own will,

once we finish dinner, I'll head home. You should talk

his fork down, studying her as though memorizing light on

Yannick and building a quiet life. Work can wait until next

the delay was practical,

it would not place her beside Nicholas

the long run, that was kinder-to him, to Yannick, and to the fragile balance of

sting tightened Nicholas' throat;