جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

Emily The moment I stepped back into the ballroom, my mask slid seamlessly into place. Soft smile. Relaxed posture. Eyes warm but distant. I greeted the ladies gathered near the center of the room, accepting their compliments with practiced grace, responding to polite inquiries about my studies, my engagement, my future. I laughed lightly when expected, nodded when appropriate, and never once let my expression slip. By Nathan’s side, I was flawless. He played his role well too—hand resting lightly at my waist, voice steady as he introduced me to acquaintances and distant relatives, all of them remarking on my composure, my beauty, my suitability. “You’re a lucky man,” one of them said, raising his glass. Nathan smiled. I smiled too. Inside, I felt hollow. I could feel him. It wasn’t logical. It wasn’t something I could explain. But even without seeing him, I knew Adrian was somewhere in the room. My skin prickled with awareness, my senses sharpened in a way they never did

Emily I picked up the call with my heart already racing. For a split second, I just listened to his breathing on the other end, steady and calm in a way that immediately put me on edge. My mind scrambled, questions colliding with one another, each demanding to be asked first. Don’t sound desperate. Don’t sound jealous. Don’t sound like you care more than you should. Too late. The question slipped out before I could stop it. “Who is that woman?” There was a pause. Not long enough to be dramatic. Just long enough to make my chest tighten. “Which woman?” Adrian asked, his tone infuriatingly casual. I stared at my phone in disbelief, heat rushing to my face. For a brief, irrational moment, I considered throwing it across the room. “Don’t do that,” I snapped. “Vivian. Vivian Hawthorne.” “Oh,” he said, as though I’d asked about the weather. “Her.” Her. That single word made my jaw clench. “And?” I pressed. “Who is she to you?” “There’s nothing between us,” he replied smoot

EmilyI didn’t hear from Adrian the entire next day.Not a message, not a call, not even one of those short, possessive little notes that usually had me reading and rereading them until my chest ached.He must still be angry.I wanted to call him so badly. I wanted to ask questions, explain myself, maybe even apologize. But the truth was… I didn’t have the answer he wanted. And worse, I knew that whatever I said would only fan the tension between us.Too much was at stake.I kept reminding myself of that as I sat in the car on my way to work, the city moving in a blur outside the window. I was certain I wasn’t ready to lose everything for a relationship that couldn’t even exist publicly.In a society like ours, scandal was death. Social death, with whispers that lasted years and family reputations torn to shreds. I had seen it before. Heard it firsthand. Even the smallest slip—an engagement broken, a secret rendezvous, a misinterpreted glance—could destroy everything.And here I was,

Emily I hadn’t thought about it. Not really. Amidst the panic, the fear, the humiliation of walking into that pharmacy and whispering my situation to a stranger… amidst Adrian’s calm voice and steady reassurance… I had not truly contemplated what I would do if there was actually a baby. His question lingered in the air between us, heavy and unavoidable. What will you do if you’re really pregnant? I looked at him through the mirror. His eyes met mine instantly. That was when I saw it. Hope. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t desperate. But it was there — quiet and unmistakable. A possibility he wasn’t rejecting. A future he wasn’t afraid of. And that realization made my chest tighten. He wasn’t thinking about scandal first. He wasn’t thinking about Nathan. He wasn’t thinking about society. He was thinking about us. I didn’t have the an

Emily My life soon returned to normal. Or at least, it looked normal from the outside. Work. Sneaking out to meet Adrian. Dinners with the Carters. Charity events. Gallery openings. Business luncheons where I had to sit straight, smile politely, and speak only when spoken to. I resumed the role I had mastered over the years — the perfect lady. Composed. Refined. Unproblematic. Untouchable. If anyone had looked closely, they might have noticed the faint exhaustion behind my eyes. The way I sometimes hesitated before answering questions about the future. The way my smile tightened whenever wedding plans were mentioned. But no one looked that closely. They saw what they wanted to see. At the Carters’ estate one Sunday afternoon, Nathan’s mother studied me over her teacup. “You’ve been very busy lately,” she remarked, her tone smooth but layered. “Still working so hard.” “Yes, ma’am,” I replied politely. “The department has been handling a new stream of projects.” She