Xavier, please!

The porcelain plate squealed against the glossy mahogany as Cathleen pushed her chair back, its legs protesting as much as the raging anger building in her chest. Not pausing to look at the faces stopped mid-chew, her fury was stoked by their conjectural muttering about her purported illness. The thought alone—the foolishness of believing she was pregnant—caused a gut reaction she was unable to fully process.

Outside, everything was unlike the world she knew; it was Xavier's haven, a place she had never ventured into. As she marched across the lawn covered in dew, the sheer loveliness of it took her by surprise and clashed with her frustration. Lush shades of green and colorful blossoms surrounded her like a vibrant work of art, showcasing Xavier's hidden softness.

Her fingertips trailing over the beautiful petals of a rosebush, she murmured, "Damn him." The softness, an unwanted respite from the storm inside, calmed her jangled nerves. Here there was quiet, no critical looks, no crud