Chapter Thirty Four

Alice stayed nestled on the bed, one hand absently playing with a strand of her hair while the other clutched her phone. The bedroom eerily quiet after Kelvin’s abrupt exit, didn’t feel empty to her. If anything, it felt peaceful—like a weight had lifted from the air the moment he left.

Her phone buzzed.

Daniel: “Then let’s not let it end. Talk to me till you fall asleep… let me stay with you this way, even if only through words.”

Her heart fluttered at the message. She smiled again—so soft, so private—as she hugged her phone closer, as if holding him.

Her phone buzzed again.

Daniel: I wish I could teleport you to where I am.

She typed back quickly.

Alice: “And what would you do if I were there with you?”

The three little dots blinked almost immediately.

Daniel: “Let me describe it to you...I would pull you into my arms. You'd be resting your pretty head on my chest even as I lay down. I can imagine you, curled against me, your hair brushing my skin. My hand is on your back, warm, steady—keeping you safe and assuring you of my love. You’re whispering something I can’t quite hear, but it doesn’t matter. You’re here. That’s all that counts.”

Alice’s breath caught. The words wrapped around her heart like a soft blanket. For a moment, she could almost feel it—his warmth, his calm, his sincerity. She closed her eyes, her chest rising slowly as she imagined it.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, then she typed:

Alice: “You make me forget I’m married… and I hate that I don’t feel guilty about it.”

This time, the response took longer. Her heart pounded.

Then it came:

Daniel: “You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting love. Real love. We aren't doing anything wrong, Alice. And I promised you that I'd never let this lead you into trouble with your family. I really mean it."

The next one came:

Daniel: "I’ll wait for you, Alice. For as long as it takes. I just hope that you'll still love me after your divorce with Kelvin. And that you will marry me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Not from sadness, but from the overwhelming warmth in her chest. He saw her. All the pain, all the fear, all the longing—he saw through it and held her heart so gently.

She wiped the tears before they could fall.

Alice: “I don't think I can stop loving you, Daniel.”

Silence filled the room again, but this time it was comforting. She lay back, her phone resting on her chest, her heart finally steady. Her eyes slowly drifted shut as Daniel sent one last message.

Daniel: “Goodnight, beautiful. Dream of us.”

And she did.

She dreamt of a world where she was free—free to choose love, free to run into the arms of the man who cherished her, free to smile without fear of being shut down.

In her sleep, Alice smiled again.

_____

The next morning, Alice arrived first at the dinning room for breakfast. Dressed in a pale blue silk blouse and beige trousers, her hair neatly brushed and tied back, she looked composed—almost serene—but only on the outside. Her phone was in her bag, tucked away deliberately, so she wouldn’t be tempted to reread Daniel’s sweet messages under Grandma Janet’s watchful eyes.

The table was already set. Gently, she took her seat and quietly poured herself some tea, her mind floating somewhere between memories of Daniel’s warmth and the coldness of her reality.

Moments later, Grandma Janet entered, dressed in one of her signature floral robes, her silver-gray hair swept up elegantly. She was already smiling.

“Good morning, darling,” Grandma Janet greeted, moving to kiss Alice lightly on both cheeks before sitting beside her. “You look rested. I hope you slept well.”

Alice gave her a small smile. “I did, grandma, thank you. And you?”

“Oh, wonderfully. Nothing like the peace of my own home again after all that excitement at sea,” she chuckled. “But I must say, I am so happy that you and Kelvin bonded so much on the cruise. It gives this old woman so much joy.”

Before Alice could respond—her smile faltering slightly—Kelvin strolled in, hands tucked into his slacks, a crisp white shirt only half-buttoned at the top. He looked fresh, but not necessarily well-rested. His eyes, however, didn’t meet Alice’s.

“Good morning, Grandma,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Then with a tight nod, “Alice.”

“Good morning,” Alice replied flatly.

He sat across from her, and the silence that followed, though short, was thick with unspoken tension.

A butler appeared and began serving the freshly prepared breakfast—scrambled eggs with truffle, buttered croissants, bacon, and a selection of fruit.

Grandma Janet, ever perceptive, picked up on the strain but chose to ignore it for the moment. “Kelvin,” she said cheerfully, buttering her toast. “There's a birthday party for Mr. Raphael tomorrow evening. He's our one time patronizer. You need to go and try to get him hooked on our products again. And, you will have to go with your beautiful wife, Alice."

Alice said nothing. She just minded her food.

Kelvin gave a neutral nod. “Sure. I’ll have my assistant add it to my schedule.”

Alice lifted her teacup, sipping slowly to hide the sarcasm twitching at her lips.

Grandma Janet turned to her. “Alice?"

"Hmmm" Alice responded softly

"I had a wonderful gold dress made specially for you. Later, I'll show it to you and you can wear it to the party. I can imagine you looking so divine in it.” Grandma Janet said.

Alice smiled politely. “Thank you, Grandma.”

“You're welcome darling." Grandma Janet beamed, clearly unaware—or deliberately avoiding—the heavy silence between the couple. “I always say, a beautiful couple should be seen often. It gives people hope that love still exists. The kind of love I shared with Kelvin's grandfather while he was still alive.”

Kelvin looked up at that. His eyes met Alice’s briefly, but she didn’t flinch. She held his gaze, calm but unreadable.

He looked away, going back to his coffee.

As they ate, the soft clinking of cutlery was the only sound that filled the expansive dining room—until Grandma Janet spoke again without even glancing up from her plate.

“And have you both discussed about having children?”

The question landed like a thunderclap in the quiet room.

Alice froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. Across the table, Kelvin stiffened in his seat. For a few seconds, the air grew thick with tension as their eyes met, locked in stunned silence.

Kelvin cleared his throat and forced a tight, awkward smile. “Uhh… we’ve talked about it,” he lied with deceptive ease.

Alice arched a brow, lowering her fork slowly. She turned her head just slightly, her eyes still on Kelvin, disbelief plain in her expression.

He didn’t look at her again.

Grandma Janet, still chewing, finally lifted her gaze and gave Kelvin a warm, knowing smile. “So, what is your decision?”

Kelvin took a sip of water, buying time. He could feel Alice’s gaze like a blade on his skin.

“Well…” he began, his voice strained but trying for casual, “we agreed to start a family soon.”

Alice shifted in her chair and shook her head ever so slightly—more in disbelief than disapproval. The gall of him to lie so easily, especially about something so profound.

“Splendid!” Grandma Janet exclaimed, lighting up like the chandelier overhead. She clapped her hands together softly. “Oh, how wonderful! I can’t wait to hold my great-grandchild before I leave this world.”

Kelvin smiled tightly, a bead of guilt crawling into his gut. “Grandma, I know you’re old, but you’re not leaving us anytime soon.”

The elderly woman laughed softly, her hands folded neatly over her lap.

“I know the sound of death makes you uncomfortable, but it’s inevitable, sweetheart. Do you even know how old I am?”

She chuckled again before continuing, her tone gentle, even wistful.

“I won’t be here forever. And all I want is to make sure you’re settled with the right woman—” she turned her eyes to Alice with a fondness that made Alice’s heart twist, “—and see your family blossom before I go.”

Alice returned the glance with a soft, practiced smile. It wasn’t real. But her heart ached anyway—not for Kelvin, but for Grandma Janet. For the dreams she had, the peace she longed for, the legacy she desperately wanted to witness before her time was up.

Here she was, building up a beautiful future in her mind. And all the while, her grandson—the one she trusted—was preparing to destroy it.

Alice’s appetite had disappeared completely. She reached for her tea instead, sipping slowly to mask the turmoil in her chest.

Kelvin, on the other hand, sat still, his fork idle. He stared at his plate, unable to meet either woman’s eyes. For the first time in a long while, he felt… cornered.

How would she take it?

His grandmother, who had sacrificed so much, who had raised him with both strength and tenderness—how would she react when she learned that everything he’d promised, everything he’d let her believe, was a lie? That Alice was never part of his long-term plan?

And yet… even now, with the guilt swirling inside him, he couldn’t bring himself to say the truth. Anita was the woman he thought he wanted. But his grandmother's warmth, Alice’s quiet strength, and that damned smile she had last night—had stirred something foreign in him. Something... uncomfortable.

As silence settled again at the table, Grandma Janet—cheerfully oblivious to the storm beneath the surface—picked up her cup and began rambling sweetly about baby names.

“If it’s a girl, I’ve always loved the name Evelyn. So graceful. Or maybe Seraphina—yes, that sounds noble. And if it’s a boy, hmm… Alexander? Or perhaps Gabriel…”

Alice nodded occasionally, offering small responses, her mask never slipping. She smiled where needed, even chuckled once or twice when Grandma Janet grew excited about baby socks and nurseries.

Kelvin only grunted now and then, his voice quieter than usual. His eyes often flicked toward Alice—then away again when she didn’t look back.

But beneath the polite smiles and casual breakfast chatter, two storms brewed in silence, veiled by the elegance of porcelain teacups and soft napkins.

Alice's gaze occasionally drifted out the tall window. The morning sun did little to brighten the gray weight inside her. Deep within her, a quiet ache pulsed. A longing. Not for motherhood, but for herself. For the girl she used to be before contracts, expectations, and pretense. A part of her wished to scream, to break the glass surface of her role and run—run far from Kelvin, from the house, from everything that felt like a slow suffocation wrapped in lace.

Kelvin, was a storm of a different kind. His discomfort simmered just beneath the surface, camouflaged by the casual rhythm of his responses. Every word from Grandma Janet, every hopeful glance she cast at Alice, felt like a stone pressing harder against his chest. He should have been indifferent.

That was a deal, wasn’t it? A temporary arrangement. He had told himself that a hundred times. Three years, he reminded himself, and then he would be free.

But freedom didn’t look the same anymore. Not with Alice here. Not with the way she held herself with quiet dignity, or the way her smiles—rare, but beautiful—lingered longer than they should in his mind. And now, the guilt—sharp, unwelcome—was beginning to coil around the idea of breaking his grandmother’s heart. Would she survive the truth? Would she ever forgive him for tearing apart this illusion she cherished?

He glanced at Alice again. She was listening to Grandma Janet with a softness in her expression, a kind of silent grace that made something in him tighten. It was maddening.

He didn’t want to care. He wasn’t supposed to care.

And yet he did.

Grandma Janet continued sipping her tea, oblivious to the inner turmoil of the couple before her. Her old eyes sparkled with hope, her voice brimming with joy as she spoke of christenings and nursery colors, of lullabies and generations continuing.

To her, this was a fairytale unfolding—a marriage rooted in love, blossoming into a beautiful family. She didn’t see the fracture lines just beneath the surface.

She didn’t see Alice’s longing for a life she had once dreamed of.

She didn’t see Kelvin’s growing confusion between the plan he clung to and the feelings that were quietly betraying it.

To her, they were just another perfect couple in love.