<b>Chapter </b><b>131 </b>
-CELINE’S POV-
(One hour earlier. At the hospital, before the motel confrontation)
The discharge papers felt like lead in my trembling hands as I signed the final line, my signature barely readable through the haze of
exhaustion and shock.
The pregnancy report was still burning a hole in my pocket, its secret weight making every movement feel surres!
I couldn’t bring myself to look at ncey as we made our way through the sterile hospital corridors toward the exit.
His words from earlier kept echoing in my mind-“I want to be here, Celine. Something about you two makes me want to be a better person
He had known us for less than a day. How could he possibly mean that?
“He must be a flirt, I told myself firmly, clutching Caesar’s hand a little tighter. ‘Obviously a smooth talker who says whatever women want to
hear.
When ncey’s warm hand reached out to steady me as I stumbled slightly, I flinched away from his touch so violently that he immediately
dropped his arm.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, that gentle smile never leaving his face. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
The kindness in his voice only made me feel worse. Here was this stranger who had paid my hospital bills, stayed with my son for hours, and 1 <b>was </b>treating him like he had some ulterior motive.
‘Because men always do, <b>a </b>bitter voice in my head whispered.
We stood in the hospital parking lot, the evening air cool against my flushed cheeks. I bit my lip nervously, trying to figure out how to gracefully extract myself and Caesar from this situation.
“Caesar and I will take the bus back to the motel, I announced, my voiceing out sharper than I nned. “Thank you for everything. truly, but we can manage from here.”
ncey’s easy expression shifted into a frown. “Celine, I don’t mind dropping you off. Please stop avoiding my help.. it’s making me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”
“You haven’t<b>,</b>” I said quickly, then added more quietly, “I just… I don’t want to be a burden.”
The word ‘burden” tasted bitter on my tongue.
My thoughts drifted unwillingly to Hunter, as they always seemed to do.
Did he think I was a burden when I was staying at his mansion, working as his maid? He must have.
Maybe that’s why he had sent hiswyers to do his dirty work instead of having the courage to face me himself.
The memory of that sterile legal message made my chest tighten with familiar <b>pain</b>.
“I hate him, I thought fiercely. Thate him so much.
But even as the words formed in my mind, my heart was betraying me with its aching longing.
How could I hate someone and yet miss them so desperately?
How could the thought of never seeing him again, never feeling his touch, never having him look at me like I was something parcious, hurt this badly?
I missed his pumpy morning moods, the way he softened around Caesar, the rare moments when his walls came down and glimpsed the vulnerable man underneath his cold surface.
“You’re not a burden, Celine,” ncey’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “And honestly, it’s pretty obvious you don’t even have your purse or any cash with you.”
Flooked down at myself in shock, realizing he was absolutely right in my panic this morning, I had been rushed to the hospital with nothing but the clothes had on
Caesar tugged on my hand, drawing my attention down to his upturned face. “Mama, I’m hungry,” he said in that matter of fact way that three–year olds had.
I stared at him as if he had just spoken a foreignnguage. It was gettingte, and I hadn’t fed my son.
What kind of mother was I? The guilt crashed over me in <b>waves</b>.
“There’s a diner not too far from the motel, ncey offered gently. “We could grab something to eat there.”
Every instinct I had screamed at me to refuse, to maintain what little independence I had left.
But Caesar was starving, I was exhausted and hungry, and walking back to the motel just to get cash would drain what Ettle energy I had : remaining.
“I’m not taking it for free,” I said stiffly, litting my chin with what dignity I could muster. “I will pay you back once we get to the motel.”
ncey’s smile was warm and understanding. “No problem at all.”
He unlocked his <b>car </b>doors, and I helped Caesar into the backseat before sliding into the passenger seat myself. The <b>interior </b>smelled like leather and something woody–cologne, maybe.
It was clean andfortable, so different from the cramped bus seats I had been imagining for our journey.
“<b>You </b>seem to know this area well,” Tobserved <b>as </b><b>he </b>pulled out of the parking lot.
“I was born in this part of the north,” he exined, navigating <b>the </b>streets with practiced ease. “I live in the city now, but I’m here for <b>a </b>business meeting.”
“Why did you choose to stay at a motel instead of a nice hotel? The question slipped out before I could stop it.
ncey shrugged, ncing at me briefly before returning his attention to the road.
“The hotel was miles away from my meeting location, and the motel seemed closer. I took the easy route rather than spending hours driving back and forth. <b>Besides</b>, the motel isn’t that bad–just needs <b>a </b>little fixing up.”
I found myself smiling at his casual attitude.,
In my experience, wealthy men… and ncey’s car and clothes suggested he had money….were usually selectiv ut their amodations.
“Does your cargo fast?” Caesar piped up from the backseat, his earlier hunger soon forgotten in his curiosity.
uzu wed, 6 Aug
nceyughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Your papa’s car must be a sports car. Mine’s not quite that exciting”
Caesar’s face fell into a pout, and I could see ncey searching for something to cheer him up
“Caesar, don’t be rude,” I scolded gently.
“It’s okay.” ncey said quickly, catching my eye in the rearview mirror. “Don’t be too hard on him. The boy must love his
I looked at Caesar, who was clutching Rex tightly against his chest, and my heart broke a little more I knew my son missed Hunter terribly
He would give anything to be back home with the man he called papa, and I was denying him that. <fnf979> Read full story at f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fnf979>
I hated being the cause of his unhappiness. The weight of that responsibility sat heavy on my shoulders.
ncey must have noticed my troubled face because he quickly changed the subject. “The diner sells amazing pancakes,” he announced to
Caesar.
<b>yes </b>lit up like a Christmas tree. “Really? What kind? Do they have chocte chips? And blueberry? And banana?”
My son’s eyes
“All kinds,” ncey assured <b>him</b><b>, </b>earning an excited bounce from Caesar. “You seem to know a lot about pancakes.”
“Papa makes the best pancakes in the whole world,” Caesar announced with three–year–old certainty. “He makes funny faces with 1 and sometimes he lets me help flip them.”
The casual mention of Hunter made my chest tighten, but seeing Caesar’s joy as he chattered about different pancake varieties made meugh despite myself….the first genuineugh I had had since we had left the hospital.
“See?” ncey’s eyes met mine briefly, his expression soft. “I knew yourugh was as beautiful as you look. It suits <b>you </b>much better than
that worried frown.
Thepliment hit me like a physical blow.
I turned away abruptly, staring out the passenger window at the passing scenery, my cheeks burning with unwanted heat.
<b>“</b>Don’t, I warned myself. “Don’t let him get under your skin. You can’t afford to trust another man with pretty words and charming smiles
The diner was <b>a </b><b>small</b>, homey ce with checkered tablecloths and the warm smell offort food wathing from the kitchen.
A waitress with graying hair and kind eyes approached our table with obvious familiarity
“Back again, ncey?” she asked with a knowing smile. “<b>I </b>was wondering when you’d show up for dinner.”
“The motel <b>food </b>is pretty terrible,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “I’ve been eating here since my stay began.”
“How long have you been staying at the motel?” I found myself asking.
odays now,
“Five <b>days </b>
he replied, settling back in the vinyl booth.
“Today was supposed to be myst day, actually, I was checking <b>out </b>when I heard Caesar crying and your call for help. I couldn’t just walk away when a damsel was in distress.”
I blushed at his
his words, ducking my head to hide my reaction. “I’m sorry again for all the trouble.”
“Are you traveling somewhere?” The question was casual, but I could sense genuine curiosity behind it.
I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted to reveal to this virtual stranger. Finally, I decided on a partial truth
10-20 Wed, 0 Aug
“We were supposed to board a bus this moming to cross the Canadian border,” I said quietly, ying nervously with the salt and pepper
shakers on the table.
“Thanks to my episode. We’ll have to wait.”
“Canada” ncey’s eyebrows rose. “That’s pretty far. There are nice ces closer by if you’re looking for a good town to settle in
I bit <b>my </b>lip, feeling the weight of his curious gaze
Caesar was coloring on a kids‘ menu the waitress had brought,pletely absorbed in his task.
The normality of the moment….sitting in a diner, my son upied and happy, a kind man asking gentle questions…felt surreal everything we had been through.
Looking up at ncey’s patient, encouraging expression, I felt something inside me crack open just a little.
“I want to be as far away from here as possible,” I whispered, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
The admission hung between us like a confession, heavy with all the pain and fear I had been carrying
ncey’s green eyes softened with understanding, and for a moment, I thought I might cry right there in the middle of the diner
Instead, I pressed my lips together and waited for his response, knowing that whatever he said next might decide whether could
with the rest of our story.
AD
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