Without another word, Lucas grabbed Celia’s arm and dragged her back to the dining table, firmly seating her in a chair before returning to Yvonne’s side.
Celia glanced up at him, watching as he tenderly soothed Yvonne. When he noticed her gaze, he turned to glare at her, a silent warning in his eyes.
Swallowing her bitterness, Celia picked up her plate and, despite the searing pain in her stomach, forced herself to eat every bite.
Tears fell silently onto her plate as she lowered her head. Each mouthful felt like swallowing fire, the burning sensation crawling down her throat and mingling with the salty sting of her tears. She couldn’t tell which hurt more—her stomach or her heart.
The meal dragged on in strained silence, with Celia enduring her agony while Lucas and Yvonne shared their intimate exchanges.
Finally, it was over.
Just as Celia set down her utensils, the sound of a car pulling up outside broke the tension.
“That must be my things arriving!” Yvonne exclaimed with a bright smile as she rushed toward the door.
Lucas turned to Celia, his tone flat but firm. “From now on, Yvonne will be living here with us.”
He watched her closely as if expecting an outburst or a refusal. His expression seemed to say he wouldn’t tolerate any objection.
But Celia, who had already cried herself dry earlier, had long since calmed herself down. She nodded calmly. “I understand.”
Her composed reaction took Lucas by surprise, leaving him unsettled. A strange unease crept into his chest, but before he could dwell on it, Yvonne returned, naturally slipping her arm through his.
“Lucas, which room will I be staying in?”
Snapping out of his thoughts, Lucas offered her a doting smile. “Let me show you around. You can choose any room you like.”
