Ch-17

•~•Solane’s POV

The morning felt good.

Not just any kind of good—the rare kind that made my chest feel light, my steps easy, and my mind finally at peace after last night’s ordeal.

I had been so scared.

When I called my dad and he said he couldn’t reach Nathaniel’s kidnappers, panic clawed at my throat.

Had Melissa captured them? She had been so cryptic, so weird back in Nathaniel’s hospital ward. What if she already knew?

What if she and Nathaniel had figured out that my dad was the one who hired them—that I was the one behind it all?

I couldn’t sleep. My mind flooded me with a thousand worst-case scenarios—until my Dad’s call in the middle of the night finally put an end to it.

“The gang leader contacted me,” he had said. “They found the tracker and got rid of it. They’re already leaving the country…There’s nothing to worry about now, sweetheart.”

That was it.

They were gone. No loose ends. No one to trace it back to my Dad. No one to trace it back to me.

And better yet—I got confirmation.

Nathaniel couldn’t walk.

Not that his legs mattered to my plans—I didn’t care whether he could walk or not.

But if he had been pretending all this time, that would have meant he was playing his own secret game while I was trying to pull my own strings.

And that would have put me on edge, forcing me to walk on eggshells around him.

But no.

Despite the jumpscares, things had still worked out to plan.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I walked down the hospital hallway, my steps light.

The food basket in my hand was packed with care—just enough to make me look like a dutiful wife bringing her recovering husband a proper meal.

Some fresh fruit, chicken soup, steamed vegetables, oatmeal… and a few other things.

I reached his ward, slid the door open, and stepped inside.

“Good morning, husb—”

The words died in my throat.

My fingers tightened around the basket handle at the sight in front of me—Nathaniel was sitting up in bed.

And seated way too close to him was that fucking ginger-haired—Shoshana Bates.

His ex-fiancée. The woman who was supposed to be his wife—until he got confined to a wheelchair, and her family canceled their perfect, fairytale wedding.

She looked just as flawless as ever, dressed in a crisp white blouse tucked into a beige skirt.

The picture of delicate perfection. Like she had stepped straight out of some high-end magazine and just happened to land here—beside MY husband’s hospital bed.

And she was feeding him.

A spoonful of mashed potatoes hovered inches from his lips, steam curling between them.

Nathaniel’s mouth was slightly open, his body leaning forward like he had been just about to take the bite—when, at the same time, they both turned to look at me.

Their expressions were blank. Impassive. Like nothing about this was strange. Like this was completely normal.

Something ugly twisted in my chest. It clawed at me, drowning out the good feeling I had this morning, replacing it with something heavier—something close to anger, but not quite. I couldn't name it.

I swallowed hard.

And finally, I spoke. “…What’s going on here?”

Shoshana blinked at me, then—ever so gracefully—tilted her wrist and let the spoonful of mashed potatoes drop back into the bowl in her lap. Then she lifted her chin, her lips curling into a polite smile.

“Oh. You must be the new wife.” She said it like she was acknowledging a temporary replacement, as if I were some live-in maid playing dress-up in her absence. “I’m Nathaniel’s fiancée.”

Nathaniel choked.

I didn’t even have to say anything—the sound he made was enough. But I still wasn’t going to let that slide.

“You mean ex-fiancée,” I corrected smoothly, tilting my head.

Shoshana chuckled lightly, as if I had just corrected the most trivial thing in the world.

 “Well, we were engaged for so long. I was this close to being his wife—until, what? A few days ago? So I guess I’m still in the habit of introducing myself that way… My apologies.”

She turned back to Nathaniel, picking up the spoon again, about to resume feeding him like I wasn’t even there. “You should eat before it gets cold.”

To my absolute bewilderment, Nathaniel actually looked like he was about to do just that.

His lips parted slightly, ready to accept the bite—until my sharp voice cut through the air.

“Nathaniel.”

His head jerked toward me, his lips still slightly parted as he just stared, looking stupidly guilty.

I narrowed my eyes at him—a silent warning—before turning my attention back to her. She let out a small, exasperated sigh, dropping the spoon into the bowl once again.

This bitch. She had the audacity to show up here, pull this stunt with a married man, and still act like I was the one being unreasonable.

“Actually, it’s been well over a month,” I corrected smoothly, countering her claim.

She waved a manicured hand dismissively. “Right, yet it feels just like yesterday. Anyway.” Her gaze flicked over me, assessing. “I don’t think I need to introduce myself further since you already know who I am.”

"Not really," I replied, tilting my head.

Then, with a pointed smile, I added, "I only got to know about you because your family called off the wedding after the unfortunate incident Nathaniel went through." I jabbed, my tone light but pointed.

It wasn’t entirely the truth about how I knew of her, but since she wanted to act like an obnoxious little bitch who thought the world revolved around her, she was definitely going to get what was coming.

I didn’t wait for her reaction. Instead, I strode forward, setting the food basket on the side table with deliberate ease before plucking the bowl of mashed potatoes straight from her hands.

Her perfectly sculpted brows lifted slightly—just for a second—before she quickly smoothed her expression.

I lifted the bowl, sniffing. A sharp, distinct scent hit my nose. “Is there garlic in this?”

“Yes.” She smiled, slow and knowing. “Doesn’t he just love it?”

I scoffed. “No, he doesn’t. He finds the smell repulsive.”

Shoshana let out a small laugh. “You two haven’t even been married a week. How are you so sure you know his likes and dislikes better than me—someone who was with him for years?” She leaned in slightly.

“And if he hates garlic so much, why didn’t he complain about the smell? Why was he about to eat the mashed potatoes?”

“Beats me.” I turned my head, locking eyes with Nathaniel. “Darling, do you like mashed potatoes?”

Nathaniel blinked at me. Then at the bowl. Then at her. Then back at me. His expression was completely blank—like a lost puppy caught in the middle of something he didn’t understand.

And for some weird reason, despite how annoyed I was, it made him look… almost cute. Almost.

He hesitated for a second before nodding awkwardly. “Yeah. It’s good.”

I folded my arms. “Really? You like mashed potatoes?”

“Yes.”

“With garlic?”

Silence. Then, after a long exhale, he muttered, “No, I don’t.”

Shoshana, of course, looked annoyed—and I felt pleased.

“Oh?” She turned to him with a teasing pout. “Nathaniel, you never told me you don’t like garlic.”

He hesitated, then shot me a look—somewhere between a plea for me to stop and sheer confusion over why I was doing this.

I offered him a sweet, expectant smile. “Go ahead, darling. Tell her.”

Nathaniel let out a small breath before clearing his throat. “I don’t like garlic.”

Shoshana’s perfectly shaped brows arched slightly. “Really? That’s strange. Back in university, you—”

“I was just being polite,” he cut in, a little too fast. “You mentioned flying in this morning and making it yourself… I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”

She studied him for a moment, her face unreadable, before sighing and taking the bowl from me.

Setting it aside with practiced ease, she smiled. “That was really sweet of you, Nathan…”

I scoffed internally. Sweet? And the way she shortened his name so casually—like it was something only she had the right to do. She had no idea how much restraint it took not to throw her the hell out of this ward.

Then, turning her attention to me, her gaze drifted over my casual outfit in that slow, judgmental way rich, self-important women do—silently deciding where I ranked on their invisible scale of barely tolerable to utterly beneath them.

“How lovely of you to bring him breakfast too,” she said. “I just thought, since he’s been through so much, he might prefer something made with real care.”

Something made with real care? 

Oh, now it’s war.

I smiled. “Absolutely,” I agreed. My tone was light, almost sweet—but edged with unmistakable mockery. “Which is why it’s so thoughtful of you to put so much real care into making something he doesn’t even like.”

Her eyes flared with anger for a brief second before she quickly masked it with another perfectly composed smile. “It was just a small mistake. After all, it’s been a long time. People change.”

“You’re absolutely right. People definitely change,” I said smoothly, then turned to Nathaniel with a pointed smile. “That’s why I made sure to bring you something you actually enjoy—so you can eat that instead.”

Reaching into the basket, I pulled out a bowl of chicken soup, popped off the lid, and placed a spoon inside before handing it to him.

He just stared at it.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, arching a brow. “Need me to feed you?”

He shook his head slowly, a bit cautious, before picking up the spoon. He scooped up some soup, blew on it, and took a sip.

I turned back to Shoshana, who still looked momentarily stunned, like she had just watched a play unfold where she wasn’t the main character.

“Thank you for trying to feed my husband,” I said, my voice laced with sweet condescension, putting heavy emphasis on my. “But I’m here, and I certainly wouldn’t let him starve.”

Shoshana rose to her feet, smoothing out her skirt. A smirk ghosted across her lips. “Solane, isn’t it?…You seem annoyed by my presence.”

I met her gaze, unfazed. “What woman wouldn’t be? Walking in to see her husband’s ex feeding him… like he’s a helpless baby with broken arms or like she owns the right to care for him.” My tone was blunt and unapologetic.

Her brows lifted slightly—half impressed, half caught off guard. “He’s been through a lot and should be well taken care of. That’s why I brought food. I made a mistake with the garlic, but it’s okay.” She smiled, the kind of smile that wasn’t friendly at all. “I suppose next time, then.”

Next time?

Nathaniel must have caught the flicker of murder in my eyes because he quickly turned to Shoshana with a polite smile. “That won’t be necessary.”

She blinked, surprised. “Oh?”

Nathaniel glanced at me and then at her before speaking, “Like she said earlier, she’s here, and she definitely won’t let me starve. And even though we haven’t been married for long, she already knows what I like and don’t.”

My heart did a weird little thing in my chest at his words. It felt annoying, so I ignored it.

Shoshana, however, didn’t seem easily dispirited. She let out a soft laugh, as she stood gracefully.

“Of course. Well, it was lovely seeing you again, Nathaniel.” Then, with a glance in my direction, she added, “And nice meeting you, Solane.”

I smiled. “Likewise.”

She smiled back. It was the fakest exchange of pleasantries I had ever been part of.

And then, just as gracefully as she had when she first sat beside my husband, she picked up her purse and her awful bowl of mashed potatoes, turned, and walked out.

Nathaniel sighed, leaning back against his pillows. “Well, that’s probably the most jealous I’ll ever see you.” His voice held that usual cocky edge.

Jealousy? So that’s what this was? That weird, twisting feeling in my chest—the one that sat too close to anger but wasn’t quite it. The feeling that had completely erased my good mood from this morning. Ugh. I needed to get a grip.

I sat down beside him, watching the door swing shut behind her. “Since it was so obvious, you’d better sleep with one eye open tonight,” I said.

There was no point in denying it. I was jealous, even if I had no idea why.

Nathaniel chuckled. “Why? You’re not actually planning to murder me just because I almost ate a meal made by an ex, are you?”

I turned to him, leaning in slightly. “Oh, darling,” I murmured, mimicking Shoshana’s voice. “You’ve been through so much. You should be taken care of properly.”

Nathaniel groaned, rolling his eyes. “Oh please… don’t start.”

“Then maybe next time, don’t do things that make you wonder if I might murder you,” I shot back. My voice came out so serious that even I found it a little

scary.

Nathaniel, however, just chuckled. “Geez… you’re so fucking crazy,” he said, then smirked. “Exactly my kind of girl.”