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Novel Catalog
Chapter 89 The Subject Of Gossip
Nathaniel’s grip on the door tightened, his jaw set in frustration as he watched Cecilia’s deflection. Her refusal, her feigned indifference—he knew it was all an act, but he couldn’t get past the gnawing sense of betrayal that tugged at him. Every time she rejected him, it felt like another part of him, another piece of the past, was slipping further away.
He took a step toward her, his eyes narrowing, searching her face for any trace of the woman he once knew. “You don’t have to pretend, Cecilia. We both know you remember.”
Cecilia, for a moment, faltered, but quickly regained her composure. “I’m not pretending,” she replied, though the hint of a tremor in her voice betrayed her. “I really don’t remember.”
Nathaniel’s patience was fraying. “You’re not fooling me. We’ve been through this before. You remember everything when it suits you, don’t you?”
Her gaze dropped, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He was right—there were things she remembered, things she couldn’t forget, but there were also things she desperately wanted to erase. The past between them, the hurt, the years of silence, all of it lingered like a thick fog in her mind.
“I don’t want to go back to that,” she said softly, her voice breaking through the tension. “I can’t just pick up where we left off. It’s not that simple.”
Nathaniel’s eyes flickered with something akin to pain, but it was quickly replaced by the cold, unwavering resolve he’d always had. “You don’t have to pick up anything. I’m not asking you to love me again, but I am asking you to come home. Jonathan is there. You’ll see him. He needs you.”
The mention of Jonathan pulled at something deep within her. The child. The boy whose existence she had only recently come to terms with, whose eyes—those hauntingly familiar eyes—stirred memories she wasn’t ready to face.
“Jonathan…” She repeated his name softly, almost as if testing it on her lips.
“Yes. He’s waiting for you,” Nathaniel said, his voice softening just a touch. “Cecilia, I know this isn’t easy, but he needs to know his mother. He deserves to be with you.”
The urgency in Nathaniel’s voice, the way he spoke about Jonathan, hit her harder than she expected. He wasn’t just talking about their past or their marriage anymore. He was talking about a child, their child, and the weight of that responsibility, the enormity of it, made her throat tighten.
“I can’t just walk back into your life like nothing happened,” Cecilia whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.
Nathaniel’s expression softened slightly, though there was still a hard edge to his features. “We can figure it out, one step at a time. But first, you need to see him. You can’t keep running from this, from him.”
Cecilia hesitated, her mind swirling with doubts. She hadn’t been a mother for years, hadn’t even known she was one. The idea of confronting the child, confronting everything she had lost, felt like a mountain too high to climb. But as she looked at Nathaniel—at the raw sincerity in his eyes—she knew that this wasn’t just about him anymore. It was about their son.
“Just… just give me some time,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to process this.”
Nathaniel didn’t press her further, though the frustration was still visible in the tightening of his jaw. “Take all the time you need. But you’re coming with me. Now.”
With one last glance at her, Nathaniel turned and walked toward the villa, his strides long and determined. Cecilia followed slowly, her thoughts racing, unsure of what awaited her inside, but knowing that her life—everything she had tried to forget—was about to be thrust back into the spotlight.
As they entered the villa, the familiar sight of the place tugged at her heartstrings. The large living room, the ornate furniture, and even the flowers she had once planted—everything was just as she remembered.
Nathaniel’s eyes briefly flicked over her as she stood there, taking it all in, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he led her deeper into the villa, his steps echoing in the silence.
When they reached a door at the end of a long hallway, Nathaniel paused and looked back at her, his voice low. “He’s in here. He’s waiting for you.”
Cecilia nodded, her heart hammering in her chest as she stepped forward, her hand trembling as she reached for the door handle. She could feel the weight of the moment, the gravity of the decision she had just made.
The door opened with a soft creak, and she was met with a sight that took her breath away.
The boy from the photo—the child with eyes so like Nathaniel’s—was standing by the window, gazing outside. When he heard the door open, he turned. His gaze locked onto hers, and for a brief moment, everything around her faded away.
His face was familiar, and yet, it felt like she was seeing him for the first time.
“Mom?” he asked hesitantly, his voice small but full of hope.
And in that moment, Cecilia’s world stopped spinning.
