All Chapters of The Woman He Couldn’t Keep : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Francesca’s POVI don’t remember how we left the gala.I remember his hand finding mine somewhere between the terrace and the door, tight, certain, like he’d already decided something and wasn’t going to change his mind about it. I remember the car, both of us quiet, his thumb moving slowly over my knuckles the entire ride.I remember getting home quickly.The house was dark when we came in, most of the staff were already asleep. Julian didn’t let go of my hand at the bottom of the stairs. He just looked at me, something unspoken behind his eyes, and led me toward the east wing instead of the guest hallway. “This isn’t the way to my room,” I said.“I know.”I didn’t argue. I followed him down a hallway I’d never actually walked before, past a door I’d only ever seen closed, and now I was inside, for the first time since I arrived in this house. His room was simple, none of the excess I expected from a Windsor.He shut the door behind us. For a moment neither of us moved. “You can stil

Francesca’s POVI felt so stupid and dumb. I sat on the edge of my bed for a long time before I let myself cry.I thought about what happened between us last night, breakfast that morning. The way he treated me like I meant something. Worst of all was last night. That was a very vulnerable and intimate thing for me, and not even hours later, he had already slept with SophieI didn’t cry because my heart was broken. I wasn’t sure it was, not fully, not yet. I cried because I’d let myself believe that maybe we could have something.I should have known better.The next day I didn’t go down for breakfast. Marta brought a tray up instead, set it down, and hurried away. The whole house probably already knew what happened. I picked at the eggs and ate none of the toast.Julian came up a few minutes after I finished eating and knocked. I didn’t answer “Francesca. Open the door.”“I know you’re in there.” He continued I sat on the edge of the bed and said nothing at all, until eventually he l

Francesca’s POVI moved out of the hotel at the end of the second week. Forty a night wasn’t sustainable on what I was making, so I found a motel a few blocks further out that charged by the week instead, cheaper, quieter, and with a small kitchenette I could actually use instead of eating crackers out of a bag every night.The room wasn’t much better than the last one. A different color of carpet, a different crack running along the ceiling. But it was mine for a full week without having to think about it every single day, and that alone felt like progress.I unpacked properly for the first time since leaving the mansion, my sketches spread out on the small desk by the window, my clothes hung in a closet that actually had hangers. I wasn’t much but I was happy. I sketched during my breaks now, small things, nothing important, just enough to keep my hands busy while I ate whatever I’d brought for lunch.Rosa caught me at it once, glanced at the page, didn’t say anything, and went bac

Francesca’s POV The man from the other day came back to the café.I noticed him the moment he walked through the door because he looked completely out of place among the people sitting around with their coffees and laptops.I recognized him from the first time he’d come in. “Good morning,” I said when he reached the counter.“Morning.”“What can I get for you?”He glanced at the menu before looking toward the small display beside the register. My remaining pieces were arranged there, along with the empty space where the bracelet I’d sold a few days ago had been.His eyes stopped on one of the pieces.“This one,” he said.I followed his gaze. It was another bracelet I’d finished the night before, this one made with a thin silver chain and small dark beads.“You want the bracelet?“How much?” He asked instead I told him the price. He reached for his wallet and paid without hesitation.“You don’t have to, if you don’t want it.” I said “I know.”I handed him the bracelet in a small pap

Francesca’s POVThe customer came for the bracelets just after four on Friday afternoon.I had wrapped each one separately and placed them inside a small white box I had bought from the supply store. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it looked neat and good.She opened the box at the café counter and examined each bracelet carefully. “These are beautiful,” she said.I smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”“I love them.” She picked up the third bracelet and held it against her wrist. “This is exactly what I had in mind.”The relief I felt was immediate. I’d spent the last few days worrying that she’d change her mind when she saw them in person. She took out her purse and handed me the remaining payment.I counted it before putting it away. “Thank you,” I said.“No, thank you.” She closed the box and looked at me. “I might need another one.”“Another bracelet?”“Not exactly. I have a dinner coming up next month, and I’d like something to match my dress. Do you make other things?”“I do.”She sm