The CEO’s Hidden Bride: Leaving After 2555 Days - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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Evelyn froze for a split second before snatching the phone from him. "I didn’t make any purchases. It’s probably just a promotional alert for cheap flight deals."
Lucas narrowed his eyes, about to press further, but the tension in her posture made him hesitate. Evelyn had never lied to him before—had she?
He set his phone aside with a quiet nod and turned toward the bathroom, but Evelyn stopped him, pulling out a first-aid kit from the cabinet.
"You’ve got a cut on your back from the broken glass," she said. "Let me take care of it."
Lucas hesitated before sitting on the couch and shrugging off his jacket. A shallow scratch ran along his shoulder blade—nothing serious, but Evelyn had noticed it when no one else had.
As she dabbed at the wound with antiseptic, his thoughts circled back to that damn letter. "Evelyn, about what happened earlier—"
She cut him off, pressing a clean bandage over the cut. "Keep it dry when you shower, or it’ll get infected. And next time you decide to throw punches, make sure you don’t need patching up afterward."
Lucas barely registered her words, his mind still elsewhere.
"What did you say?" he asked, blinking up at her.
Evelyn shook her head, securing the gauze before walking away toward the bedroom.
By the time she finished drying her hair, Lucas had already showered and emerged, his arms slipping around her waist as he leaned in for a kiss. But she turned her face away, his lips brushing her cheek instead.
Her voice was light, dismissive. "Not tonight. I’m on my period."
Lucas didn’t push. He tucked the blanket around her and turned off the light.
The next morning was crisp and bright.
Evelyn was in the bathroom when she heard the commotion downstairs. After freshening up, she stepped out to find Isabella standing in the foyer with a small entourage. Lucas leaned against the doorframe, his expression dark with irritation.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
Before Isabella could answer, one of his friends chimed in with a smirk. "Bella insisted on thanking you in person for saving her yesterday!"
Right on cue, Isabella produced an extravagant bouquet and an elegantly wrapped gift, as if performing a magic trick. "Lucas, I can’t thank you enough for what you did. These are just a small token of my gratitude."
Lucas didn’t reach for them, though his expression softened slightly.
Evelyn stepped forward, her voice cool. "Blue Moon roses. Lucas’s favorite." She took the bouquet from Isabella’s hands, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Shall I put these in a vase for you?"
Lucas’s jaw tightened. "They’ve never been my favorite. They’re yours." His gaze flicked to Evelyn, sharp and unyielding. "And just so we’re clear—Evelyn is my wife. She runs this house."
The room fell silent at his words, but Evelyn’s expression remained unreadable. She glanced down at the flowers in her hands, realization dawning.
Blue Moon roses.
So these were the flowers Isabella adored. No wonder Lucas had spent a fortune cultivating them in the greenhouse. But Evelyn said nothing.
She handed the bouquet to Walter, the butler. "Bring down the crystal vases from the second-floor display."
Isabella’s eyes flashed, but Evelyn ignored her, carrying her breakfast out to the balcony. The thin glass door did little to muffle the conversation inside.
"Lucas, are these the origami rabbits I used to make in middle school? You kept them all these years in a glass case? I could fold you new ones if you’d like."
"And this fashion doll set—I thought I threw this away! Did you really dig it out of the trash?"
"Gregory, are these the maple leaves we collected at Autumn Ridge? You turned them into bookmarks?"
As Isabella prattled on like an archaeologist uncovering buried treasure, Evelyn remembered the first time she’d stepped into this house. She’d once asked Lucas about those keepsakes.
"Just some old trinkets from a cousin," he’d said with a shrug.
Back then, she’d believed him without question. She hadn’t noticed the flicker in his eyes—something far more complicated than nostalgia.
Something that spoke of love and resentment, longing and regret.
The kind of look that only came from a love story that had never truly ended.
Lucas narrowed his eyes, about to press further, but the tension in her posture made him hesitate. Evelyn had never lied to him before—had she?
He set his phone aside with a quiet nod and turned toward the bathroom, but Evelyn stopped him, pulling out a first-aid kit from the cabinet.
"You’ve got a cut on your back from the broken glass," she said. "Let me take care of it."
Lucas hesitated before sitting on the couch and shrugging off his jacket. A shallow scratch ran along his shoulder blade—nothing serious, but Evelyn had noticed it when no one else had.
As she dabbed at the wound with antiseptic, his thoughts circled back to that damn letter. "Evelyn, about what happened earlier—"
She cut him off, pressing a clean bandage over the cut. "Keep it dry when you shower, or it’ll get infected. And next time you decide to throw punches, make sure you don’t need patching up afterward."
Lucas barely registered her words, his mind still elsewhere.
"What did you say?" he asked, blinking up at her.
Evelyn shook her head, securing the gauze before walking away toward the bedroom.
By the time she finished drying her hair, Lucas had already showered and emerged, his arms slipping around her waist as he leaned in for a kiss. But she turned her face away, his lips brushing her cheek instead.
Her voice was light, dismissive. "Not tonight. I’m on my period."
Lucas didn’t push. He tucked the blanket around her and turned off the light.
The next morning was crisp and bright.
Evelyn was in the bathroom when she heard the commotion downstairs. After freshening up, she stepped out to find Isabella standing in the foyer with a small entourage. Lucas leaned against the doorframe, his expression dark with irritation.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded.
Before Isabella could answer, one of his friends chimed in with a smirk. "Bella insisted on thanking you in person for saving her yesterday!"
Right on cue, Isabella produced an extravagant bouquet and an elegantly wrapped gift, as if performing a magic trick. "Lucas, I can’t thank you enough for what you did. These are just a small token of my gratitude."
Lucas didn’t reach for them, though his expression softened slightly.
Evelyn stepped forward, her voice cool. "Blue Moon roses. Lucas’s favorite." She took the bouquet from Isabella’s hands, her tone dripping with false sweetness. "Shall I put these in a vase for you?"
Lucas’s jaw tightened. "They’ve never been my favorite. They’re yours." His gaze flicked to Evelyn, sharp and unyielding. "And just so we’re clear—Evelyn is my wife. She runs this house."
The room fell silent at his words, but Evelyn’s expression remained unreadable. She glanced down at the flowers in her hands, realization dawning.
Blue Moon roses.
So these were the flowers Isabella adored. No wonder Lucas had spent a fortune cultivating them in the greenhouse. But Evelyn said nothing.
She handed the bouquet to Walter, the butler. "Bring down the crystal vases from the second-floor display."
Isabella’s eyes flashed, but Evelyn ignored her, carrying her breakfast out to the balcony. The thin glass door did little to muffle the conversation inside.
"Lucas, are these the origami rabbits I used to make in middle school? You kept them all these years in a glass case? I could fold you new ones if you’d like."
"And this fashion doll set—I thought I threw this away! Did you really dig it out of the trash?"
"Gregory, are these the maple leaves we collected at Autumn Ridge? You turned them into bookmarks?"
As Isabella prattled on like an archaeologist uncovering buried treasure, Evelyn remembered the first time she’d stepped into this house. She’d once asked Lucas about those keepsakes.
"Just some old trinkets from a cousin," he’d said with a shrug.
Back then, she’d believed him without question. She hadn’t noticed the flicker in his eyes—something far more complicated than nostalgia.
Something that spoke of love and resentment, longing and regret.
The kind of look that only came from a love story that had never truly ended.
End of The CEO’s Hidden Bride: Leaving After 2555 Days Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to The CEO’s Hidden Bride: Leaving After 2555 Days book page.