It was barely past five in the afternoon when Gwh checked the time.
She figured Hawthorne was either still at the office or out at some business dinner. Last night, he hadn''te home until she''d already fallen asleep-either he was swamped with work, or he was hiding something from her.
"I''m here. Waiting for you to have dinner," he said.
They''d missed lunch together-she hadn''t wanted the hotpot he''d suggested-so surely they could at least share dinner tonight.
A faint guilt crept up in Gwh''s heart for having turned him down earlier. That guilt only grew when, at the mall today, she overheard someone gossiping about ''Mrs. Everhart'' using ''Mr. Everhart''s'' card to buy jewelry. She''d meant to ask him about it, but when she finally saw him, she couldn''t bring herself to bring it up.
"Oh," she replied, looking away.
She was still carrying the diamond ne she''d bought at the jewelry store. Hawthorne noticed and casually took the shopping bag from her hand.
"Been shopping?" he asked, as if it were nothing at all. The question made Gwh feel oddly awkward.
"Yeah. Didn''t you get a text notification on your phone?" She''d used his card, so he''d surely have gotten an alert.
"Didn''t notice. You''re usually not interested in these things—what made you buy jewelry today?"
He took out the receipt and nced at the price-thirty-eight thousand. For someone like Gwh, that was unusually low for her taste. It didn''t quite add up.
"Oh-" Gwh had nned to interrogate Hawthorne, but now she felt like the one sneaking around.
"I just saw the ne and liked it, so I bought it. Is that... a problem?" She looked at Hawthorne, her eyes defiant, as if daring him to use her of something—yet she couldn''t help dropping her gaze, suddenly unsure.
Hawthorne gently hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face up so she had to meet his eyes.
"Are you hiding something from me?"
He asked so naturally, so directly, it was clear he had nothing to hide. Gwh suddenly felt she was being petty.
"No, really, nothing. I just went shopping with the others, and when I saw them all buying something, I felt awkward not joining in. So I picked something at random, just to fit in."
The excuse felt flimsy, and she knew it.
Hawthorne couldn''t be bothered to expose her white lie-he was actually relieved. So it was only a coincidence; for a moment, he''d worried Gwh had found something out.
Both of them were on edge, yet in the end, neither said anything more.
A littleter, Hawthorne slipped his phone to silent mode when Gwh wasn''t looking.
After dinner, the housekeeper brought in a silver candleholder and a te of sliced fruit, setting them just inside the study.
Hawthorne sat at hisputer, catching up on work he hadn''t finished during the day. Meanwhile, Gwh took out her art supplies and returned to her painting-she''d been working all week on a scene of the garden''s flowers, though there were still a few finishing touches left.
Her carving project was almost done, too. Every so often, Hawthorne would pause his work to watch her-there was something about her
focused expression that filled a quiet
emptiness inside him.
A few minutester, Hawthorne''s phone buzzed across the desk. He nced
down: a message from Patti Yale.
Just one line, tentative: "What are you up to? Are you asleep?"
He ignored it, powering off his phone without a word.
Whenever Gwh painted, she lost all track of time. She didn''t even notice Hawthorne until he gently took the brush from her hand. Startled, she turned and blurted out, "When did you get here?"
Hawthorne frowned, then simply scooped her up in his arms.
"I''ve been here all along. You said you''d keep mepany while I worked-what,
has painting made you forget your own husband? Let''s see what you''re working
on."
He looked toward her easel, but Gwh instinctively tried to shield it with her
arm. Toote-he saw his own profile, sketched in soft, careful strokes. Something inside him shifted.
"And this is...?"
Gwh blushed, murmuring, "It''s you."