Semua Bab His Father's Bride : Bab 31 - Bab 37

Morning arrived not with rest, but with a slow, unwelcome awareness—the kind that crept in quietly, pressing against the edges of consciousness until sleep could no longer hold.I stirred faintly, the unfamiliar weight of wakefulness settling over me. For a moment, I did not move. Did not open my eyes. Because something felt—Different.Too warm. Too close.My breath caught.And then, slowly, memory returned.Not all at once. Not gently. But in fragments—sharp and unrelenting. The corridor. His voice and our actions.The way everything had unravelled so quickly. The feeling of him—still far too vivid to dismiss as a dream.My eyes opened.And reality followed.The room was dim, the early light of dawn just beginning to slip through the thin gap in the curtains. Shadows lingered across the walls, soft and quiet—but it was not the room that held me still.It was him.William lay beside me.Asleep.One arm draped over me, his breathing slow, steady—unaware.For a moment, I could not breat

The house had grown unnervingly quiet. Not with peace. Not with comfort. But with absence. Lord Rathcliffe had not attended breakfast. Nor luncheon. Nor dinner. For two full days. At first, it had seemed a small thing. Easily dismissed. A gentleman occupied elsewhere, perhaps detained by matters of business or society. But as the hours stretched into a second evening—and his place at the table remained untouched, unacknowledged save for the careful clearing by servants who did not dare comment—it became something else entirely. Something deliberate. Something felt. His absence lingered like a question no one dared to ask aloud. I noticed it most in the children. David, who once looked toward the door with an expectation he tried so valiantly to conceal, no longer did. He sat straighter now, quieter, as though trying to take up less space in a world that had suddenly grown uncertain beneath him. His laughter, when it came, felt practiced—too quick, too forced, as though he w

When I woke— He was gone. At first, I did not understand it. My body remained still beneath the covers, my eyes closed as though I might yet drift back into the fragile quiet I had fallen asleep in. But something felt wrong. Subtly at first. Then unmistakably. Cold. Empty. The warmth that had surrounded me only hours before had vanished entirely. My hand moved before I could stop it, brushing across the space beside me. Nothing. The sheets were cool—undisturbed in a way that told me he had not just risen, but had been gone for some time. My breath caught softly in my chest. And then— Everything returned. The night. The quiet confession. The way he had held me as though nothing else mattered...The way I had let myself believe, if only for a moment, that it might be enough. I opened my eyes slowly.The room looked exactly as it always did. Orderly. Still. Unchanged. And yet— It felt different. As though something had been taken from it. Or perhaps— As though s