Chapter 10

Tanya was sitting close to him, naturally. She was wrapped in some ridiculously luxurious cashmere shawl, even though the house wasn't that cold. She was playing the delicate victim, sipping slowly at a tiny cup of tea, looking utterly bored but determined to stay put. I knew she was in the house because her place had some kind of problem, and Killian, being the great protector, had obviously let her move right in. Whatever. Her problems were not my problems.

I didn't try to sneak in or be quiet; I just walked straight up to the breakfast table. I grabbed a plate and loaded up on the essentials: scrambled eggs, some perfectly crispy bacon, and a few small sausages. I needed fuel.

I poured myself a mug of the strongest coffee available, which, given this house, was probably some fancy bean that cost a fortune. Then, I headed for the table. I chose a seat in the middle, giving myself a good 5 feet of clear space between me and their little soap opera down at the end.

I sat down, took a big slug of coffee, and started eating. It was glorious.

Tanya cleared her throat, clearly annoyed that I wasn't paying them any attention. "Good morning, Nova," she said, her voice trying to sound sweet, but I could hear the sharp edge underneath.

I glanced up, chewing a piece of bacon. "Morning," I replied, taking another bite. I didn't add any extra words. No need to encourage her.

She waited a beat, then pressed on. "I was just saying to Killian how worried I was that you two were stuck at Camille's place all night. I had no idea she would lock you in!"

I fixed her with a completely flat stare. "Yeah, we were locked in. It happens. It was a long night," I said honestly, focusing on my food again. I kept it simple. I wasn't going to rise to her bait. I wasn't going to whine or fight; that's what she wanted. I was here for business, and she wasn't on the agenda.

Killian finally lowered his tablet, his eyes flicking from me to Tanya, then back to me. He was probably waiting for me to cause a scene, to demand she leave, or to start a fight. He didn't say a word, though. That’s his defining trait; he just watches and waits in silence.

I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. I took a big gulp of coffee, keeping my expression neutral.

Tanya, however, couldn't handle the lack of drama. "Yes, it must have been awful. My apartment is a total mess with the plumbing issue, which is why Killian has been so kind as to let me stay here for a little while. Isn't he just wonderful?" She tried to make it sound like they were already living together.

"Super," I replied, completely deadpan. "Hope your plumbing gets sorted quickly, Tanya."

I went back to my plate, completely ignoring the fact that she was basically bragging about living with her best friend/crush/whatever she was to Killian. I didn't care. As long as she stayed out of my way, she was just noise in the background.

Killian put his tablet down completely, leaning back in his chair. He still didn't say a word, but I could feel his gaze on me. He was trying to figure out why I wasn't reacting. Why I wasn't throwing a tantrum or getting involved in his mess.

I knew why. It was because I was stronger than he thought. All the arguments, all the drama—it was just wasted energy that I needed to focus on my mother. Tanya was a pathetic distraction, and Killian was just the means to an end.

I finished my eggs and stood up, grabbing my coffee cup. I didn't need to finish the meal to make my point.

"I'm heading to the library," I announced, but I didn't look at them. I was talking to the air, letting them know where I was going to be. "Don't bother me."

I walked out of the room, leaving the perfect, silent CEO and his perfect, whining houseguest sitting there.

As I walked down the hall, I heard Tanya’s voice rise slightly. "Honestly, Killian, is she always that dull and disrespectful?"

Killian’s answer, of course, was nothing. Just silence. He wouldn't defend me, he wouldn't argue with Tanya, and he certainly wouldn't tell her anything. He'd just ignore the whole situation until it went away. That was his way.

I reached the library, my sanctuary. It was dark, full of old books, and thankfully, miles away from the dining room. I sat down at the biggest desk, pulled out my laptop, and started sorting through the files I had brought with me.

Even though I wasn't technically employed right now, this contract was supposed to be my focus; I had my own life to manage. Bills, future plans, clinic details. I opened a spreadsheet, forcing my mind to focus on numbers and dates, anything but the tense quiet of the rest of the house.

I knew Killian was still down there with Tanya. I could hear some low, indistinct murmuring from the main living area, probably Tanya demanding he take her out or buy her something expensive.

And you know what? It felt like absolute bliss. I had my coffee, I had my space, and they were occupied. I was getting through the day without having to engage with either of them, which was exactly what I wanted. I needed peace to focus, and if Tanya's needy behavior was keeping Killian occupied downstairs, then good on her.

This silent, awkward life was actually the best-case scenario. I was the ghost wife, and I intended to stay that way. The biggest challenge wasn't fighting them; it was simply ignoring them.

I settled into my chair, letting out a long breath. One year. Just 365 days of this nonsense, and then I was free to go back to my real life. That thought was the only thing that mattered.

Killian

I walked into the hall and threw my keys onto the side table. I didn't even look at Nova when she walked past me to head up the stairs. Honestly, I didn't have the energy. The drive back from Grandmother's place had been dead silence, thank Christ, but the night itself had felt like a real war. I was absolutely tired, and the last thing I wanted was any more drama from anyone.

Tanya's voice was already floating out from the dining room, quiet and soft. She was staying here for a bit because of some stupid plumbing issue at her place. I just saw it as a family responsibility, a friend needing a roof. She was my oldest friend, practically a sister, and she’d been through enough.

I walked into the dining room. She was sitting near the end of the table, looking all delicate in a pale blue silk robe, sipping tea. She looked up and gave me a small, gentle smile. Not a demanding one, not an aggressive one. Just the same quiet look she always had.

"Morning, Killian," she murmured, setting her cup down. "Sleep well?"

"Fine, Tanya," I replied, my voice gruff. I didn't stop to talk. I headed straight for the head of the table and sat down, pulling my tablet immediately into view. Work. That was the only thing that grounded me. That was the only thing I could control.