CHAPTER 31

I DON'T NEED YOU TO TEST ME..

The food arrived half an hour later, two steaming containers of stir-fried noodles with tender slices of beef and vegetables. Luke set the bags on the counter, rolling his sleeves up, and began transferring the portions into bowls without saying much.

Abigail leaned against the doorway, watching him. Something about the sight, the casual elegance in his movements, the quiet focus made her chest feel heavier than it should.

“You didn’t have to plate it,” she said softly.

His head tilted slightly, but he didn’t look at her. “You don’t like eating from cartons. And again I don't need the servants for this.”

Her brow knit. “I never told you that.”

“I notice things.”

That answer stayed between them for a moment, unspoken meaning hanging in the air.

She crossed the kitchen slowly, her hands brushing the marble counter as she stopped near him. “You’ve been… different today.”

He didn’t pause his movements, but his jaw worked as if chewing over the words before answering. “Different how?”

“A little colder,” she admitted. “Not cruel. Not unkind. Just… not like the Luke I’m used to.”

Finally, his eyes lifted to hers. “If I was colder, it’s because I was watching. Watching how you handled yourself in a place that will not be kind to you.”

“I noticed,” she murmured.

“And?”

“I don’t need you to test me,” she said, her voice steady despite the knot in her throat. “If you want to know if I can stand by you in public, just ask. Don’t put me in a room full of people who already had their minds made up.”

His brow arched faintly, and for a second, she thought he might deflect. Instead, he set the serving spoon down and moved closer, his presence closing the space between them.

“They need to know you’re not a shadow in my life, Abigail,” he said. “I won’t hide you. And I won’t let their whispers dictate where you belong.”

The words landed like warm rain, but there was still a chill beneath them a reminder that his world had sharp edges.

She looked up at him. “And where do I belong?”

His hand rose, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. “Right here,” he said simply. “But that doesn’t mean I can protect you from every sting.”

“I’m not asking you to,” she whispered.

His gaze lingered for a heartbeat too long, then he stepped back, as though remembering the food. “Eat before it gets cold.”

They ate at the dining table instead of in the living room. The quiet between them wasn’t uncomfortable now, just full of thoughts neither had yet put into words.

Halfway through the meal, she set her chopsticks down. “What did they say about me before I came?”

Luke didn’t look surprised by the question. He chewed slowly, swallowed, then wiped his mouth with the corner of a napkin. “Some didn’t know I was married. Some assumed I wouldn’t marry. Others…” He paused, as though picking his words carefully. “…think you don’t fit.”

The knot returned to her chest. “And does that bother you?”

His eyes met hers without hesitation. “Not even a little.”

She searched his face for any trace of doubt, but found none. Still, she could tell something else was bothering him, something he wasn’t saying.

“You didn’t tell me we were going to the company until this morning,” she said. “Why?”

“Because you’d overthink it,” he replied.

She gave a dry little laugh. “So you decided to surprise me instead?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t the answer she’d expected, but it was honest.

“Luke…” She hesitated. “When you introduced me, your tone”

“I wasn’t introducing you to friends, Abigail,” he cut in. “I was introducing you to people who think they have the right to judge my personal life. I don’t care to soften my tone for them.”

She sat back, letting his words settle. “Do you ever… regret letting me into that part of your world?”

His expression darkened slightly, almost offended. “No. But I regret that I can’t make it easier for you.”

Her chest warmed despite the firmness in his voice.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. Luke settled on the couch, loosening his tie, while Abigail curled up on the opposite end. The dim light from the floor lamp cast shadows along his sharp features.

“Tell me what you were thinking,” she said quietly.

He glanced at her. “About what?”

“Today. From the moment we left the house to the moment we got back.”

His gaze lingered on her for a moment before he leaned back, one arm draped over the couch. “I was thinking that you walked into a room full of strangers who had already decided your worth… and you smiled at them anyway. I was thinking you didn’t flinch when they whispered. And I was thinking that I might have underestimated you.”

A small, slow smile tugged at her lips. “That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“It is,” he said simply.

Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t heavy this time. It was laced with an unspoken understanding.

Later that night, as they prepared for bed, she found herself watching him again. He was standing by the window, looking out at the city lights, his shirt unbuttoned, tie discarded.

She walked over and stood beside him. “You’re still thinking,” she said.

“I’m always thinking.”

“About what this time?”

He glanced down at her, and for the first time that day, his smile reached his eyes. “About how the whispers won’t matter in a few months. About how they’ll have no choice but to see you as I do.”

Her breath caught. “And how do you see me?”

His hand came up, cupping her jaw gently. “As mine.”

The simplicity of it, the certainty in his tone, melted something inside her. She leaned into his touch, eyes closing briefly.

“I don’t care if they like me, Luke,” she whispered. “I just care that you don’t stop looking at me the way you do now.”

“I won’t,” he said in a way that seemed like he didn't want to promise but sounded like he did., his thumb brushing her cheek. “But you’ll have to trust me when I say my world is… demanding. It will pull at us. And sometimes, I’ll have to be harder than you’re used to.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “Then be harder. Just don’t shut me out.”

For a long moment, he said nothing just studied her as though committing her to memory. Then he kissed her, slow and deep, his hand sliding to the back of her neck.

When he pulled back, his voice was low. “You won’t be shut out, Abigail. Not now. Not ever.”

That night, she fell asleep with his arms around her. And for the first time since they’d walked into the Vandell Corporation earlier that day, she believed him.

But somewhere deep inside, she also knew the whispers weren’t over. They had only just begun.