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Chapter 310: We Asked Different Questions
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2026-10-16 00:39:44
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He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 374: He Had Made a Reservation
"Black, for half past seven," Damien told the young man at the desk, and then he turned from the desk and looked at me with his whole attention. It was a small thing, and I felt it all the same. The young man took us to a table by the wall, under a hanging lamp, and I noticed the handwritten menu on the slate and the same steam on the glass as before.We sat opposite each other this time, with a candle between us in a jam jar. Damien waited until the water had been poured and the waiter had gone before he spoke."You were looking at me like that when we came in.""Like what?""Like you were pleased with me.""You were the one who was pleased," I said. "You looked like a man who'd won something.""You didn't make it particularly difficult.""I could have.""You could have," he agreed. "I'd have enjoyed that too."We ordered, and the food arrived in the unhurried way of a place that had no interest in its tables turning over. For a while we talked about nothing in particular. He told me
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 373: He Asked What Time I Finished
By ten on Monday the morning sun was coming through the east window and laid a long pale strip across the table. I had the revised training pack spread along the whole length of it, the participant exercises in a row on the left and the coordinator's notes in a second row beneath, so that each sheet sat under the one it belonged to. It was the first full working day I had spent in that room, and I had stopped noticing it by about nine o'clock.The trouble was in the third pair. The exercise now began with a coordinator ringing a woman who had stopped coming, but the notes beneath it still told coordinators to send the standard message first. It was Ruth's old line, the cheerful one, and it was exactly the thing the session had taught them to stop sending. I stepped back along the table to be sure, and then I leaned across and pulled the notes sheet toward me and crossed out the opening paragraph.I reached for the next sheet without losing my place, because nothing in the pack had mov
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 372: He Thought It Was A Good Chair
I edged past the chair again, with my hip turned and my shin catching the corner of the arm, and said something I wouldn't have wanted Claire to hear."It's the best spot in the room," Damien said, from the sofa. "Sit in it and tell me it isn't.""I'm not sitting in it. I'm walking round it.""The light's right there.""The light's lovely. It's the chair that's the problem." I went back to the doorway and walked the route again, to show him. "Every time I come in with a cup I have to turn sideways, and it's only Sunday.""That's because it's a proper chair.""It's a very comfortable chair, and it's too big for where you've put it."The doorbell rang before he could answer. It was Claire, in a good coat, holding a casserole dish wrapped in a tea towel, which she was returning with a pie inside it as interest. Behind her came Marcus, who had somehow arrived on the step at the same moment, with Damien's laptop charger in one hand and a look of faint apology. We passed the dishes along th
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 371: Our First Night
The stairs were bright where the hall light fell up them, and darker at the top, and I carried the lamp in both arms like something that might wake. Damien came behind me with the overnight bag. Our phones were on the shelf downstairs, with the keys and a pile of takeaway menus, and neither of us had mentioned them since.The bedroom door was open. The bed stood against the far wall, and the curtains were drawn, and it all looked a little too tidy, as if someone had arranged it for a photograph. I put the lamp on the chest of drawers beside the window, and Damien set the bag down on the bed, found the socket, and plugged it in. Then he switched off the overhead light, and the room turned from a stranger into something softer.It was our own bed, but it looked different against that wall, lower somehow, and wider. The curtains still carried a crease from being folded in their box, a pale line running down each one. The lamp lit one side of Damien's face and left the other in shadow, an
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 370: We Ate on the Floor
The keys were in my hand by a quarter past eleven, and we stood on the pavement in front of the brown door with the weight of them between us. Damien was holding the rosemary in its roasting tin in both hands and the overnight bag over one shoulder, which meant he could do nothing but wait while I tried the lock. I turned the key the wrong way, and then the right way too hard, and then the wrong way again."It's a different lock," I said."It's a lock. They're generally the same.""Not this one.""You're doing it the way you do ours.""Then do it yourself," I said, and held out the keys, and he looked down at his hands and laughed. I tried it once more, lifting the door slightly as I turned, and it gave with a click that made us both cheer, quietly, as if someone might be asleep inside.Inside, the hall smelled faintly of toast. Damien set the roasting tin on the floor and straightened up and said, "It smells like someone else's breakfast.""Give it a week.""Do we get to keep the toa
He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy Chapter 369: The Last Evening Before the Keys
Five weeks passed in surveys, signatures and a great many emails with the same three attachments. The offer was accepted, the checks came back clean, and the paperwork was finished by the Wednesday, which left us collecting the keys at eleven on Friday morning. I had moved my meetings, and Damien had cleared the day with his team on his own terms, and the removal firm was due at one.On Thursday evening the house was half in boxes and still entirely ours. The books were stacked along the hall, the kitchen had been reduced to the essentials, and the sitting room had kept its lamp and its two armchairs and the good rug. Damien came in from his on-site day, put his bag down on a box marked KITCHEN, and asked what we were taking ourselves in the car."Overnight bag," I said. "My book. Your laptop, which I assume you won't let anyone else carry.""And the rosemary."It was standing by the back door in its terracotta pot, exactly where we'd put it, and had grown a little in the weeks since.
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