Chapter 17
After a moment’s hesitation, Daphne didn’t ask him to leave.}
Curiosity began to get the better of her. She wondered what Nestor could possibly want to say–Nestor, who had once so adamantly proclaimed his love for Josephine, and who, even when he’d finally agreed to return to her side, had only set a time limit after his friends pestered him to the point of exasperation. Now he was here, clinging to her, insisting on a conversation. What could he possibly be after?!
Daphne had never taken that “winning–back–my–wife” video he’d posted after reclaiming his identity seriously. To her, it was just another part of the persona he maintained for the public.
Before the shipwreck, after all, the Bridges brothers had a certain reputation–everyone knew they were notorious for their romantic escapades, with Nestor being the worse of the two. It wasn’t surprising that outsiders had fallen for the act; she herself, caught up in the relationship, hadn’t seen through his pretense. He couldn’t possibly think she hadn’t discovered he’d faked his own death by now. He was the CEO of the Bridges Group, after all–not some oblivious fool.
Predictably, as they entered the villa and the warm air hit him, Nestor sneezed.)
Well, she’d already let him inside. Watching him look so disheveled, Daphne shot him a quick glance, then turned away, not rushing him or telling him to leave. Instead, she tossed him a curt, “Wait here.”
She picked up her phone and made a call. Not long after, someone dropped off a brand–new men’s bath towel and some cold medicine. The delivery was wordless–the person set the items on the table and left without looking back.
Nestor glanced at the retreating figure and then at the things on the table. The cloud over his face lifted instantly, and a wide grin spread across his lips. “Thanks, Daphne.”
She didn’t reply, merely nodded toward another doorway. “There’s a bathroom over there. Go take a shower, and remember to take the medicine–I don’t want to catch your
our cold.”
With that, she turned and headed upstairs without another word.
It wasn’t until Daphne was back in her bedroom that she realized she’d forgotten to tell him which room to sleep in. But then she shrugged it off–if he’d managed to find her villa, surely he could figure out where to sleep.
With that, the exhaustion of being woken in the middle of the night crept up on her again. She yawned, pulled the covers over herself, and soon drifted into a deep sleep.
The next morning, after she’d washed up, Daphne realized Nestor hadn’t come upstairs at all.)
She paused for a moment, surprised, but quickly composed herself.”
Her housekeeper, well–accustomed to her daily routine, brought out a steaming breakfast right on cue as she came downstairs.
No one spared a thought for Nestor, still curled up asleep on the narrow living room sofa. It wasn’t until Daphne finished her meal and wandered into the living room that she finally noticed him.
The sofa was hardly big enough for him, and he hadn’t slept well. She reached out and touched his forehead–there was still a slight fever. Nothing serious.
She started to pull her hand away, but suddenly felt warmth encircle her wrist.
“Daphne..”
Startled, she looked down and saw that he was still fast asleep, mumbling her name in his dreams.
She tried to gently free her hand, but he only gripped her tighter, as if he sensed her struggle.
Daphne’s brow furrowed. With her free hand, she acted decisively.
Smack!!
A sharp sound echoed through the room as she slapped his hand away. Nestor jerked awake, blinking in confusion.
For a moment, his eyes were unfocused, but soon his gaze sharpened. He saw her, and then noticed his own hand still clinging to hers.
He let go immediately, watching her calmly withdraw her hand with no sign of emotion. As he sat up, a hint of regret flickered across his face.
He’d blown his chance for even a fleeting moment of closeness.
While he was busy berating himself, Daphne stood and moved to sit on the other side of the room. She looked at him with a hint of curiosity. “Why did you sleep down here?“%
Nestor hesitated, his voice low and uncertain. “You didn’t tell me which room I should use, so I
He trailed off, sounding like he was trying to make her feel guilty for ignoring him.
But she didn’t respond, and after a long pause, he risked a glance at her–her expression was as calm as ever!
A wave of disappointment washed over him Truthfully, he’d done it on purpose, he wanted her to see that he really had changed, that he wanted her back in his lifes Daphne, sitting across from him, locked as gentle and unguarded as ever–like a rabbit with no defenses. But beneath that softness, he could sense a wall he just couldn’t break through.
