TEN

KATE'S POV:

The garden had quickly become my sanctuary, the one place where the walls didn’t whisper his name or remind me of the heavy weight I now carried as a Voss bride in name only.

The morning air was crisp and light, dancing over my skin as the sun pushed gently past the clouds. Birds chirped from the high branches of the sycamore tree that loomed on the right side of the estate’s back lawn.

The view from my bedroom window was beautiful. But I haven't had the time to just sit by the window and watch the stairs.

I wore one of the cotton dresses I had purchased during my last outing. A pale blue one with short sleeves and ruffles that stopped mid calf.

It was light, easy to move around in, and quite possibly ruined now that I was knee deep in flower beds. The hem was stained with fresh earth, my hands soaked in mud as I worked my fingers into the soil.

I'd always loved the feel of dirt between my fingers. There was something so soothing about it, about how something so simple could grow into something so beautiful.

I was planting lavender this time, and some new roses Della had told me came all the way from Italy. I could already imagine them blooming, brightening up the somber exterior of this cold mansion.

This used to be Nikolai's garden, but he hasn't step foot into it since I started tendering to it. He's doing a great job at avoiding and not speaking to me. Not that I'm complaining.

I hummed softly as I worked, pausing only to push a strand of hair from my face. My gloves lay on the bench behind me. I didn’t want to use them. Not today. Not when I needed to feel.

I needed to feel the soil on my bare hands, feel how soft and cold it was.

Time moved without warning in the garden. The wind shifted and carried the scent of the fresh grass around me. I was so immersed in the quiet peace that I didn’t notice the black sleek car until it turned into the driveway. The sound of tires against gravel jerked me out of my trance.

I looked up just as Nikolai’s car glided to a stop at the edge of the circular driveway. He stepped out in a dark navy suit that hugged his frame with too much elegance for a man so cold.

His sunglasses were still on, even though the sun had dimmed. He looked like he belonged in a magazine cover rich, untouchable, and utterly distant. Rhea was so happy back then, when Father had told her about their wedding plans.

I wondered what changed, maybe Liam did.

But I didn’t care.

Not today.

Not even as his gaze lingered on me from across the garden. He was slowly watching me, watching me lower the lavender to the moist ground. He didn't say a word.

I bent again, pushing a new set of flower bulbs into the moist ground, refusing to look at him. My fingers moved with practiced ease, pressing, covering, patting. He stood there for a moment, unmoving, and then walked away without a word.

Good. Classic Nikolai.

That’s how I liked it. It's better than the promise he made to destroy me on my wedding day. Well, not necessarily mine, but yeah.

I finished up, wiping my hands on the towel I’d brought from the kitchen. The lower ends of my dress had darkened more with mud, and my knees ached from crouching so long, but my heart felt light. This was something I did for myself. Not for him.

I stood for a while with mud on my kneecaps to stare for a while the beauty I had done. It looked so well done that I was congratulating myself in my head.

As I made my way into the house through the back kitchen entrance, Della was already waiting for me with a gentle smile. Her eyes dropped to the state of my clothes, but she said nothing. Only poured me a glass of lemonade.

“You've been out there for hours,” she said.

I nodded and took a grateful sip. “It’s peaceful. And I feel happy tending to the garden, it keeps me away from all this.”

“It suits you, you're taking care of it so well.” she replied.

I tilted my head, half amused. “Getting dirty suits me?”

She laughed, a hearty sound. “No. Making things grow. You bring life into this place. It's refreshing. The garden was beautiful before you came in, but now they look more alive, more awake with love and sunshine.”

I smiled and set the glass down. “Thanks, Della. I’ll clean up before dinner.”

“Oh, and Nikolai asked me to inform you,” she added as I turned to head up the stairs. “His relatives will be arriving tomorrow evening for dinner. They missed the wedding.”

I froze.

The wedding.

His relatives.

Of course they did. I didn't see any of his families there, just friends and business partners. I wondered if they knew about the whole thing, the switcheroo between Rhea and I.

Still, I straightened my shoulders and nodded. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

Della gave me a look. One filled with quiet pride and motherly affection. “I know you will. And plus you'll love them.”

Upstairs, I peeled off the dirty dress and stepped into the shower. The water was hot and cleansing, streaming down my back and washing away the dirt, but not the memories.

I rested my forehead against the cool tiles and let the steam surround me. Tomorrow, I’d have to play the perfect wife. I had to play house with the man that detest my every move in his house.

To a man who hated me.

To a family that didn’t know me, and only heard of me and seen me through the media. I wonder if they would infact like me. Or if they already knew about everything.

After drying off, I slipped into a cream colored tank top that covered my stomach and a pair of black loosed jeans and an indoor slippers.

Soft and simple, and casual enough for dinner. My hair was still slightly damp as I walked down the staircase and into the dining room.

Nikolai was already seated at the head of the table, scrolling through his phone with his usual impassive face. Della stood behind him, instructing a maid to serve the dishes. The aroma of roasted chicken and buttered vegetables filled the space.

I took my seat without saying a word.

He didn’t look up.

And I didn’t care. It seems like we perfectly aligned.

We ate in silence, the occasional sound of silverware against plates filling the void. Della tried to ask questions, mostly to break the ice, but we both responded with polite, clipped words.

She's trying to keep the mood from turning foul, trying to make it less awkward. What she didn't know is that it will always be awkward between us.

When dessert was brought out, a lemon tart with a raspberry glaze, I finally allowed myself a real smile. It was my favorite. Della winked at me from across the table.

I didn't know how she knew lemon tart with raspberry glaze was my favorite, but it made my heart happy.

“I thought you’d like that,” she said.

I nodded, grateful. “Thank you, Della. They're my favorite.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Nikolai watching me. His gaze wasn’t angry, not tonight. Just unreadable.

But I didn’t ask why. I never always ask why. We haven't even had a good conversation after the night of our wedding day. I wonder how long we can keep this up.

I didn’t speak to him. Not even when dinner ended, and he rose from his seat and left the room. He always leaves first, kisses Della on her soft cheeks and thanks her for the food.

He was so calm and collected towards her, but was so cold and distant towards me. He never even spares me a glance or throw in a little attention or affection to my end.

I wouldn't blame him though, I had played with his intelligence alongside my family.

I cleared my plate and helped Della with the dishes despite her protests, I needed something to do to while away my time in here. Aside from tending to the garden, I basically had no other job to do. It made me feel lazy, and as a writer, I hadn't gotten on any new book yet. The case of writer's block had been affecting me lately.

Then, without a word, I climbed the stairs and closed the door to my room. My second sanctuary. My space.

I got to the window, and stared down at the garden.

The flowers I’d planted danced gently in the night breeze beyond the window, and for a moment, I let myself believe that everything might bloom one day.

Even me.