Todos los capítulos de He Chose My Sister, So I Married His Enemy: Capítulo 351 - Capítulo 360

"I don't know," I said.He took a breath and looked down at our hands, where his thumb had been moving slowly across my knuckles. I waited. The lamp hummed faintly, and I could hear the clock ticking in the hall."It isn't that I don't want to," I said quickly. "Or that I do. I think I've just never seriously pictured it, and you've clearly been picturing it for ages, and I don't want you to think that I'm saying no, because I'm not, it's only that I can't tell you it'll turn into a yes, and...""Hold on.""I'm explaining too much.""You are, a bit." He looked up, and his eyes were gentle. "I was only deciding what to say. I wasn't disappointed.""You went quiet.""I went quiet because I didn't want to say the wrong thing." He turned my hand over in his. "Then we don't know yet.""I might not know for a long time.""That's all right.""You wouldn't mind?""I didn't say I wouldn't mind. I said it's all right." He gave a small, crooked smile. "You've only just asked yourself. I can wait

"I'm good at making something urgent," he said. "Even when it isn't."He picked up a plate from the rack and dried it slowly, with his eyes on the cloth. I waited, drying a glass of my own, and when he didn't go on, I asked what he meant."I'm not sure." He frowned. "I think I'd be in the room, but I wouldn't be there. A child would be telling me something, and I'd nod, and in my head I'd be writing an email. I'd say 'one minute.' And then one day I'd look up and they'd stopped asking."He handed me the plate, and I put it on the shelf. The quiet in the kitchen had changed, and I could hear the tap dripping slowly into the sink. It was not what I had expected him to say."You'd notice," I said. "You'd see it happening.""Sometimes you have to tell me." He said it gently, with no accusation, and reached for the next plate. "I don't always see it until someone points it out."I opened my mouth to argue and found I couldn't. It was true, and we both knew it, and I did not need to list th

"I don't know either," I said. "I love living here with you. I just don't think I've ever imagined what we'd look for if we were starting from nothing.""Then we don't have to know tonight.""No.""We could just lie here and not decide anything.""That sounds very good," I said, and we did exactly that.Claire replied to my invitation with three exclamation marks, and Marcus asked what he should bring and was told "yourselves" and said he'd bring wine anyway. By Friday evening Damien was back from his two days on site, the kitchen smelled of garlic and rosemary, and I had a casserole in the oven that would mostly look after itself. We'd learned something from the last few dinners, and for once we weren't going to spend the whole evening at the stove.Damien had taken charge of the bread and the salad, and I'd given him a list. When I came back from setting the table, I found four loaves lined up on the counter like a small, crusty army. He was standing in front of them with his hands

"I don't actually have a reason," I said. "Come on, then."Damien took my hand, and we crossed the road to the nursery. The entrance was a gap between two stacks of compost bags, and beyond it the rows ran back to a brick wall, with plants on tables and benches and in trays along the gravel. Customers wrestled awkward trolleys between the aisles. At the far end stood a glass greenhouse with a sign for tropical plants, and Damien looked at it for a while and said we'd see it once we'd chosen something.He had said he only wanted one manageable plant. Within five minutes he had lined up four small herbs on a bench and was turning each pot in his hands, checking under the leaves and pressing the soil with his thumb. He pinched a sprig of thyme, sniffed it, and frowned as though it had said something unkind. I stood with my arms folded, thinking it was the most absorbing thing I'd seen him do all week and also slightly excessive."They're herbs," I said. "They're meant to look after thems

"Oh, look at that," I said. "A window seat."It was the fourth photograph in the listing, a deep sill under a tall sash window with a cushion someone had left on it, and I had already decided where I'd sit. Damien put the second chair down beside mine and leaned over my shoulder, taking in the picture more slowly than I had."It looks straight onto the pavement," he said. "There's a bus stop right outside. Look at the reflection in the glass."I looked, and a woman in an orange coat was standing in the reflection, waiting for something. He sat back and said it was on a main road, then, and we could move on."You've seen four photographs.""Four was enough.""There are nineteen." I pulled the laptop closer. "Humour me."He took the trackpad and clicked through with the air of a man being made to eat his greens, and then he stopped at the twelfth. It showed a small room at the back of the house with two windows and a long bare wall, and the light lay across the floorboards in a way no p