Semua Bab After The Divorce: Ex-Husband Regrets And Begs Me: Bab 31 - Bab 40

His phone buzzed on the conference table.Lysander picked it up. The screen showed a name he had memorized years ago, a name he had saved in his contacts even though he had never once called it, a name that made his heart skip every time he saw it.August Valancourt.He answered on the first ring."Lysander," August said, and his voice was heavy with something that might have been exhaustion or relief or both. "I have news."Lysander's grip tightened on the phone. "Is she alright?""She's home. She arrived this morning. She's tired and she's hurt and she's been through more than any woman should have to endure. But she's home and she's safe."Lysander closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he allowed himself to feel the relief that flooded through him. She was safe. She was home. She was within reach."Thank you for telling me," he said."I'm not just telling you, Lysander. I'm asking you to come. She needs to see you. I don't think she knows it yet, but she needs to see you. S

She wanted to see him. She wanted to know what 17 years had done to the boy with the gray eyes and the intense stare and the promises he had no business making.She wanted to know if he had really waited.She spent the morning getting ready.It was absurd, she knew. She was not trying to impress him. She was not trying to win him over. She was not even sure she wanted him to like her. But she couldn't help herself. She stood in front of her closet for an hour, pulling out dresses and putting them back, holding shirts against her chest and throwing them on the bed, rejecting outfit after outfit for reasons she couldn't quite articulate.Too fancy. Too casual. Too young. Too old. Too much like the woman she used to be. Too much like the woman she was trying to become.Finally, she settled on a simple cream colored sweater and a pair of dark jeans and her old leather boots, it was comfortable. Nothing that screamed look at me or I'm trying too hard or please love me.She left her hair do

They walked through the gardens together.Celestine didn't know who suggested it. Maybe her mother. Maybe her father. Maybe it was just the natural thing to do, to walk among the roses and the fountains and the old stone paths, to let the beauty of the estate do the talking while they figured out what to say to each other.It was awkward at first. Two strangers who had known each other their whole lives, walking side by side, trying to find a rhythm, trying to find a language, trying to find a way to bridge the years that stretched between them.Lysander didn't push. He didn't ask her about Kier or anything. He didn't ask her why she had come home or what she planned to do next or whether she had ever thought about him over the years. He asked careful questions, gentle questions, questions that didn't demand anything from her."How was the flight?""Long. But the jet was comfortable.""Are you sleeping okay?""Not really. But I'm trying.""Have you eaten anything today?""My mother ma

That evening, the Valancourts and Lysander sat down to dinner together in the grand dining room of Valancourt House, and Celestine watched from her seat at the table as the man who had been waiting for her for years made himself at home with her family like he had always belonged there.The dining room was warm and golden, lit by candles and the soft glow of the chandelier that had hung above this table. The walls were lined with portraits of Valancourt ancestors, stern faced men and soft smiled women who had lived and loved and died and been forgotten by everyone except the family who still say their names. The fire crackled in the massive stone fireplace at the end of the room, and the smell of roast beef and herbs and fresh bread filled the air, and the clink of silverware against china provided a gentle soundtrack to the conversation that flowed around the table.Celestine's father sat at the head of the table, as he always did, his silver hair catching the candlelight and his blu

Celestine woke up the next morning to sunlight streaming through her windows and birds singing in the garden and the strange unfamiliar feeling of peace settling over her like a blanket.She lay in bed for a long time, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house waking up around her. Somewhere downstairs, she could hear the clatter of dishes and the low murmur of voices and the occasional burst of laughter that she recognized as her mother's. It was the sound of a home. The sound of a family. The sound of something she had been missing for three long years.She thought about Lysander. About the way he had looked at her last night on the bench, his gray eyes soft in the moonlight, his voice steady when he said I'm not going anywhere. She thought about the way her heart had pounded in her chest and the way her hands had trembled in her lap and the way something had shifted inside her, something she couldn't quite name but could feel all the same.She wondered if he was