chapter 5

The aroma of roasted lamb filled the Thornton residence long before the guests arrived, rich and savory, promising warmth that the evening would ultimately fail to deliver.

Agnes moved busily between the kitchen and dining room, directing the housekeeper with sharp instructions while arranging serving dishes on the polished mahogany table. She wanted everything perfect tonight. Harold sat in the living room, reading the evening newspaper and occasionally adjusting his glasses with a dissatisfied grunt.

“Is Gregory on his way?” he called out.

Agnes glanced at the clock on the wall. “He said he’d be here by seven.”

“And Cathrene?”

“She’ll come with him.”

Harold grunted in approval. “Good.” He folded the newspaper neatly and set it aside. “There are a few things we need to discuss.”

The words hung in the air like a warning.

Across the city, in the master bedroom of the Ashford mansion, Cathrene stood in front of the full-length mirror, fastening a pair of elegant pearl earrings. Her cream-colored dress was simple yet refined — modest enough to show respect, beautiful enough to remind them she was still a woman of substance. She reached for a small gift bag resting on the dresser. Inside was a new blood pressure monitor for Harold. His old one had stopped working months ago. She had remembered. No one else had.

Gregory walked into the bedroom, already dressed in a sharp charcoal suit. He barely spared her a glance.

“You ready?”

Cathrene turned and offered him a soft smile. “Almost.”

He checked his watch impatiently. “We’re late.”

“I know.”

She picked up her handbag, swallowing the quiet hurt, and followed him downstairs. The drive to his parents’ house was painfully quiet. The silence between them had become so familiar, so routine, that neither seemed interested in breaking it anymore. Cathrene watched the city lights blur past her window, streaks of gold and white against the darkening sky. There had been a time — not so long ago — when Gregory would reach across the center console to hold her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles as he asked about her day. Tonight, his hands never left the steering wheel. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead.

She wondered when they had become strangers sharing the same car.

The moment they entered the Thornton residence, Agnes greeted them with outward warmth.

“Cathrene!” She embraced her daughter-in-law first, the hug brief but polite. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mother,” Cathrene replied gently.

Gregory received nothing more than a quick pat on the shoulder from his father.

“You finally made it,” Harold said gruffly.

“We hit traffic,” Gregory replied, already moving toward the dining room.

Nathan wandered into the hallway carrying a bowl of potato chips, his face lighting up when he saw Cathrene.

“Sister-in-law!” He hugged her enthusiastically. “I heard your company signed another major international contract. You’re unstoppable!”

Cathrene laughed softly, the sound warm despite the heaviness in her chest. “News travels fast.”

“You’ll be richer than all of us combined soon,” Nathan teased.

Harold shot his younger son a warning look. “Money isn’t everything, Nathan.”

Nathan shrugged. “Easy for you to say when someone else is paying the bills.”

Cathrene quietly handed Harold the small gift bag. “I brought something for you, Father.”

He frowned, peering inside. “What is this?”

“A new blood pressure monitor. The pharmacist said this model is more accurate and easier to use.”

Harold looked at the device for a moment before nodding once. “You didn’t have to.”

“It wasn’t any trouble at all,” she said softly.

He placed the bag on a nearby chair without opening it further. Not a single word of thanks followed. Cathrene didn’t seem to mind on the surface. She never expected gratitude anymore. But each time it was withheld, a small piece of her hope chipped away.

Dinner began peacefully enough. Plates were passed around. Conversations drifted from politics to business. Nathan spoke excitedly about his university classes. Vivian called through video chat from campus, proudly announcing she had passed all her exams. Cathrene congratulated her sincerely, her voice warm and genuine.

Then Harold cleared his throat.

“I’ve been thinking.”

The table grew instantly quiet. The clinking of silverware stopped.

“There are some matters a family shouldn’t keep avoiding.”

Gregory continued cutting his steak with deliberate focus, knife scraping against the plate.

Cathrene sensed exactly where this was heading. Her stomach tightened.

Agnes lowered her eyes to her plate.

Harold looked directly at Cathrene, his gaze heavy with expectation.

“You’ve been married for eight years.”

Cathrene nodded politely, maintaining her composure. “Yes.”

“And yet…” He paused dramatically. “…this family still has no heir.”

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Nathan shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Agnes reached for her glass of water, her hand trembling slightly.

Cathrene forced a gentle smile, though her fingers tightened around her spoon until her knuckles ached. “We’re still seeking treatment.”

Harold sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “For how much longer, Cathrene?”

Gregory remained focused on his plate. Knife. Fork. Steak. As though the conversation had nothing to do with him. As though his wife’s pain was background noise.

Harold continued, leaning forward. “Our family name has existed for generations. What happens if Gregory remains childless? Who carries on the Thornton legacy?”

Cathrene’s chest constricted painfully. “We haven’t given up hope.”

“Hope?” Harold scoffed. “Hope doesn’t continue a bloodline. Hope doesn’t fill an empty nursery.”

Agnes spoke softly, almost pleading. “Harold…”

“No.” He raised a hand, silencing her. “This conversation should have happened years ago.” His gaze returned to Cathrene, sharp and unrelenting. “A wife has many responsibilities. You’ve done well in business — no one can deny that. But success in the boardroom doesn’t replace success in the home.”

Every word landed like a stone against her heart. Nathan glanced toward Gregory, waiting. Surely his older brother would say something. Anything. Defend his wife. Stand beside her.

Gregory took a slow sip of water. Then calmly said, “Father has a point.”

Cathrene slowly turned toward him. Their eyes met for just a second. She searched desperately for the man who had once promised to stand beside her no matter what life brought them. The man who had vowed “for better or worse.” She couldn’t find him anymore.

“I’ve never blamed Cathrene,” Gregory continued, his voice measured and detached. “But… eight years is a long time.”

The sentence sliced through her heart with surgical precision. Not because he had shouted. Not because he had insulted her openly. But because he had quietly agreed — in front of his entire family — that she had failed him. That she was the problem.

Harold nodded approvingly. “Exactly. A family needs children. Not excuses.”

Agnes finally spoke again, her voice weak. “Perhaps we should stop this.”

Harold ignored her. “I’ve spoken to several friends. There are good adoption agencies. Or…” He looked straight at Gregory. “…perhaps there are other solutions.”

The meaning was unmistakable. A veiled suggestion that Gregory could look elsewhere for an heir.

Cathrene felt every pair of eyes at the table carefully avoiding hers. The humiliation burned hot in her chest. She carefully placed her cutlery down, the soft clink sounding impossibly loud.

“I’ll make some tea,” she said quietly, her voice steady through sheer force of will.

Without waiting for permission, she stood and walked toward the kitchen. Only after the swinging door closed behind her did she allow herself to breathe. She gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles turned white, the cool porcelain grounding her.

Not because Harold had insulted her again. She had grown used to that sharp tongue over the years.

It was Gregory’s silence.

No — his agreement.

That hurt the most. The quiet betrayal from the man she still loved so deeply.

A single tear slipped down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away before anyone could see.

“Not here,” she whispered fiercely to herself. “You promised yourself. No tears in front of them.”

She straightened her shoulders, switched on the kettle, and stared out the small kitchen window into the darkness, willing herself to hold together just a little longer.

Back in the dining room, Harold leaned closer to Gregory.

“I hope you’re thinking seriously about what I said, son.”

Gregory didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his phone vibrated silently beneath the table. He glanced down.

Dorcas: The boys keep asking when Daddy is coming back. Hope misses you already… and so do I. 

Without realizing it, a faint, genuine smile touched his lips — soft and warm.

Harold noticed. “Good news?”

Gregory quickly locked the screen. “Something like that.”

He slipped the phone back into his pocket just as Cathrene walked back into the dining room carrying a tray of tea. Her posture was perfect. Her expression composed.

She didn’t know who had made her husband smile so tenderly.

She only knew one devastating truth:

It hadn’t been her.