Todos los capítulos de Winning Her Back: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

The golden sun of the afternoon bathed Mrs. Blackwell's room in gold, blurring furniture lines and throwing a halo about the fresh lilies on her bedside table. Ethan and I arrived together in synchrony, each of us with a tray. The lavender-scented air, and beneath it, the undertone thrum of privilege and the subtle musk of Mrs. Blackwell's signature sandalwood candle burning on the bedside table.As we came in, Mrs. Blackwell was just ending a conversation on the phone, her smooth voice still echoing in the room: "Yes, dear. I'll rest now." She put her phone down gently and smiled at us, a look of victory and relief."Perfect timing, my dears," she cooed, smiling. "Put the soup and chicken here."Ethan placed the tureen delicately on a gilded tray stand, steam rising in languid circles. I put the plates of sautéed chicken and steamed vegetables on the bedside table, pale green of asparagus and blush color of carrots a pleasant contrast to snow‐white china.Mrs. Blackwell settled back

The sun shone through the gossamer drapes in delicate, gold stripes. I lay beneath the white blanket, tracing invisible patterns on the ceiling as my mind replayed last night's stolen kisses and naughty moments on the balcony. Ethan's arms around me, the weight of his lips at the base of my neck, the throb of his breathing identical to mine, each memory ignited a searing blush down my body.Aside from the heat still smoldering under my skin, panic started building quietly within my chest. To lay here, next to an empty pillow and untucked bed, was at once a relief and a betrayal. Relief that I could hold on to the memory intact, and betrayal because he wasn't there. My fingers ached to trace the line of his jaw, to have his hand on the small of my back. Instead, I slipped off the bed and wrapped my robe around me, resolved to flee from the silence too near to bear.I stalked along the hall, by the closed door of his study, where once I had dreamed of surprising him with breakfast, or a

The morning courtyard was still, dew glistening on neatly trimmed boxwoods as Mrs. Blackwell and I strolled beneath the thin trellis of the arbor. I breathed in the fresh air, the sweet perfume of early bloom chasing away the whispers of fitful nights. We stood side by side, quiet friends. She paused in front of a rosebush, touching a velvet pink petal with her fingers. "Pretty, aren't they?" she breathed. "They are," I replied, looking at her serene profile. Just a few days back, I'd thought her seriously ill, so frail, so in need of my and Ethan's nursing. She smiled up at me, silver locks glinting in sunlight. "Lila, I'm so glad things are going on well between you and Ethan." I smiled hesitantly, still sensitive from the reality I had only half absorbed. "I’m positive it’s because of you, thank you for all that you've done." Her eyes sparkled. "Ah, but about that." She took a deep breath as though gaining courage. "I have to admit, I wasn't ill." I hesitated mid-step, heart p

I stood frozen in the dimly lit dressing room, my fingers still tangled in the stubborn zipper of the silk dress. The panic that had begun to simmer in my chest now boiled over, my breath coming in short, frantic gasps. I tugged at the zipper again, my nails digging into the fabric, but it refused to yield. The dress, once a source of pride and admiration, now felt like a suffocating cocoon. I was stuck, and the realization sent a wave of dread through me.Outside the stall, Ethan’s voice broke the silence, calm and steady. “Lila? Everything alright in there?” His tone was gentle, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity, as if he sensed something was amiss.My cheeks burned with embarrassment. “Just… one second,” I called back, my voice tight. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. The dress clung to me like a second skin, the silk whispering against my body with every shallow breath. I couldn’t stay in here forever, but the thought of stepping out in this state made my s

I cinched myself into the back of the sleek black sedan, cold leather against my fingers as the door closed beside me. Moonlight streaming through the tinted glass created long shadows on the immaculately manicured stretch on the way home. Ethan's mother, Mrs. Blackwell, made quiet conversation in the front seat with our driver in soft, soothing murmurs so far removed from the hurricane tearing me apart.Ethan’s presence beside was like a magnetic force, the lean of his wide shoulder, the hint of the ridges of his back beneath his slick coat, and the tiny furrow between his eyebrows.His hand reached out towards mine, his thumb swept along my knuckles in a gentle invitation to bridge the space between us. I moved my hand from his touch, my heart wrestled with desire and fear. The space between us was thick with air no chillier than that of the summer evening, and I couldn't shake the tension I'd brought with me from Claire's unannounced visit at dinner."Lila," Ethan took in a breath,