Elissa frowned. “I’m busy right now.”
Frank chuckled. “So should I just head in?”
He didn’t think much of it. Even though Elissa had moved out, she was still his wife. Once he got Marcia settled in and Elissa cooled off, everything would fall back into ce–just like it always did. In his mind, it was perfectly normal for him to walk into her ce alone. He only mentioned it beforehand out of politeness.
Elissa suddenly remembered she’d never changed the smart lock code after moving in. Annoyance prickled at her, and she blurted out, “No, wait–I’ll be right back.”
Ever since she left Greenwood Manor, she’d avoided entangling her daily life with Frank’s, apart from the unavoidable obligations. To her, home was a private space, somewhere only her closest people coulde and go as they pleased. The thought of Frank just waltzing in unsettled her, like some boundary had been breached.
After hanging up, she nced up guiltily–only to find Rowan watching her, perfectlyposed, an amused glint in his eyes. His expression practically spelled out: Try ditching me and see what happens.
Elissa hesitated. “Could you drop me at Vistapeak Gardens first? I need to pick up a delivery.”
Rowan’s lips quirked, his tone cold and faintly mocking. “A delivery? You mean Frank?”
“He’s note package,” Elissa shot back, exasperated.
Frank into her apartment was out of the question; the idea of
g for him” didn’t evene close. Rowan gave her a sidelong look et it drop, turning to Evan with a chilly drawl. “Take the princess <b>me </b><b>first</b>. Let her have her little lovers‘ rendezvous.”
Elissa fell silent, not bothering to protest. Rowan had her pegged as
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hopelessly lovesick; unless she pped divorce papers in his face, anything she said would just sound like excuses. Not that she could even get her hands on those papers.
Maybe Rowan just found her embarrassing. He slouched in his seat, radiating thinly veiled irritation, as though barely restraining himself.
As soon as they pulled up to Vistapeak Gardens, Elissa wasted no time bolting from the car, desperate to escape that suffocating atmosphere. Rowan watched her hurry away, his gaze darkening.
Evan, oblivious, groaned. “Boss, when do you think Miss Elissa will finally wake up? Even after what Frank did at the hotel with that other woman, she’s still running to him the moment he calls.”
“Why didn’t you ask her yourself?” Rowan snapped, voice like ice <i>as </i>he red at Evan through the rearview mirror. “What am I, a mind reader?”
Clearly pissed off.
Evan fumbled for words. “I just…didn’t dare…”
He hesitated, then asked, “Are we really waiting here?”
Their boss never waited for anyone.
Rowan didn’t answer. He just started tapping the center console rhythmically–one, two, three, four, five, six…
Stepping out of the elevator, Elissa spotted Frank waiting by her door. The soft evening light spilled through the hallway windows, casting a gentle glow. Frank, in a crisp white shirt with his jacket draped over his arm, looked every bit the picture of calm sophistication. When he saw her, he smiled warmly.
“That was quick. You could’ve taken your time–I don’t mind waiting.”
“I was nearby,” Elissa replied.
She nced at what he was carrying: a carefully wrapped painting under
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Chapter <b>135 </b>
one arm, and a grocery bag filled with fresh ingredients in the other–meat, eggs, and vegetables. For the first time, he actually looked like a husband, not some ethereal figure above mundane life. She’d always assumed he was detached from the ordinary, but apparently, he could shop for groceries and cook, too.
Elissa took only the painting, her tone cool. “Alright. You should go home
and cook for Marcia.”
Frank didn’t take offense. He just smiled gently. “You’ve got it wrong. I know what happened the other day upset you, so I’m here to make it up to you, okay?” He lifted the grocery bag with a flourish. “I bought all your favorites. Tonight, let me cook you a real dinner.”
<b>10:43 </b>