Turning away, she headed toward the house – only to find Kristian standing in her path.
“You’re leaving?” His voice was flat, but his eyes burned into hers.
“Obviously.”
“Why now?”
She blinked. “Why not now?”
“The divorce isn’t finalized for thirty days.” He crossed his arms, the picture of detached rationality. “You could stay.”
“I’d rather not.” She sidestepped him. “I’ve arranged a new place. No point dragging this out.”
Kristian opened his mouth – then closed it. What could he say? Stay?
Wait? The words turned to ash on his tongue.
Freya didn’t linger. Every second in this villa choked her.
True to her word, thirty minutes later, the movers hauled her life away in cardboard and leather. They worked efficiently, carrying her belongings out one by one.
Gerard adjusted his glasses, murmuring, “Sir, she’s really going.”
Kristian’s laugh was razor-thin. “I have eyes.”
“You won’t get another chance.”
Silence.
“Can you actually live with that?” Gerard pressed.
Instead of answering, Kristian shifted the conversation, loosening the knot in his chest. “How’s the situation with Ashley? Has the suspect’s motive been confirmed? Have the police reached a conclusion?”
Gerard pursed his lips.
“If it’s still unresolved, focus on that,” Kristian added, his tone clipped, as if shutting down any further discussion.
“Sir,” Gerard said.
“Speak,” Kristian replied.
Gerard hesitated, but then, in a rare moment, ignored the warning signs flashing in his mind. “I have a question.”
Kristian glanced at him, signaling him to go on.
A pause. Then, after weighing his words carefully, Gerard asked, “Are you really in love with Miss Bradley?”
Kristian’s gaze lingered thoughtfully on Freya before shifting, now laden with a mix of steadiness and confusion. “What do you mean?” he asked sharply.
Gerard leaned forward, his expression serious as he posed a weighty question. “Do you truly love Miss Bradley, or are you merely haunted by shadows of past feelings and unresolved yearnings?”
Kristian’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of discomfort in his tone. “What are you getting at?”
The air between them grew thick, charged with unspoken thoughts.
“I’m worried you’re confusing past sparks with something real now,” Gerard remarked, his voice low and earnest. “You could miss a real chance at happiness with your wife.”
Kristian’s response was a silent one, his mind racing.
He knew his heart’s depth for Ashley; memories of her gentle company and shared laughter still had the power to soothe him.
Had their paths not diverged, they might have already been bound by marriage.
“There’s actually a straightforward way to see if your feelings for Miss Bradley are genuine,” Gerard went on, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, hinting he knew something interesting. “But I doubt you’re ready for it.”
Kristian’s interest piqued. “What is it?”
“Loving someone is a flash of heat, a quiet, irresistible pull.” Gerard leaned in closer, his voice a hushed whisper meant for Kristian’s ears only. “Think about it – do you feel any real desire for Miss Bradley? Any genuine physical attraction?”
The way Kristian’s expression shifted so quickly left no doubt he got it immediately.
Gerard pressed on, his gaze intense, “Do you feel it?”
Kristian’s gut reaction was a firm, unhesitating no.
Neither in his past nor in the present had he harbored such sentiments towards Ashley. All he wanted was to cherish her and help her build a life brimming with happiness.
But Freya…
The mere thought of Freya caused a slight crease to form between Kristian’s brows. He fixed Gerard with a piercing look, his expression one of firm rejection. “What works for you doesn’t necessarily work for me.”
If Gerard’s insinuation held any truth, it would suggest that Kristian harbored genuine feelings for Freya, an idea he found completely ludicrous.
Gerard, perceiving the depth of Kristian’s denial, chose silence.
He could envision the scene a month later, with the divorce papers freshly signed: Kristian, isolated in his expansive villa, clutching at memories to stave off loneliness.
Kristian’s brother had read him like a book; Kristian was in dire need of confronting his own setbacks.
After loading her last box, Freya approached Kristian, her tone blunt and direct. “All my things are moved out. I’ll reach out once the mandatory waiting period ends to finalize the divorce.”
“Wait.” Kristian’s voice halted her in her tracks.
.
.
.
Freya paused and turned, her gaze falling back on him.
Kristian’s eyes lingered on the moving company’s truck, crammed with boxes, before he finally gathered his thoughts. “Gerard will drive you. The truck isn’t equipped for passengers.”
“Alright,” Freya responded, her voice steady and unhesitant.
She slid into the car, settling into the back seat with quiet grace.
Just as she was about to instruct Gerard, the car’s other door swung open. Kristian’s tall frame squeezed in beside her, the spacious interior suddenly feeling tight with his presence.
Freya’s brow furrowed in mild annoyance. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my way to the office, and it’s practically on the same route,” Kristian explained, his tone a mask of calm.
Freya fell silent, taken aback. He didn’t even know where she was moving to. Yet, she chose not to call him out on it.
In her eyes, Kristian was probably just concerned she might vanish to avoid finalizing their divorce, his unexpected company a tactic to ensure he knew where she lived.
Once he was aware of her residence, there would be no disappearing on her part.
It wasn’t that she feared any trouble from him after revealing her address – she intended to remain in Jeucwell just for another month. Afterward, she planned to return to Alerith and seldom visit Jeucwell again.
Kristian was completely in the dark about her plans. His curiosity was simple yet earnest; he just wanted to find out where she lived and whether it was a decent spot.
The ride over was steeped in silence, each minute stretching longer than the last.
After what felt like an eternity, they finally rolled into a quiet residential district on the outskirts of Jeucwell.
The distance from the bustling city center caused Kristian’s finely shaped eyebrows to knit together in a slight frown.
“You’ll live here?” he questioned, his tone laced with surprise.
“Yes,” Freya responded with a firm nod.
She had meticulously chosen this secluded spot after scouring numerous listings in Jeucwell. It was the perfect sanctuary away from the chaos of urban life, exactly what she desired.
Kristian struggled to grasp her logic. Mulling it over, he finally offered slowly, a hint of concern in his voice, “You know, you could move into the villa I’ve prepared for you right now. After we finalize the divorce, it will all be yours.”
Freya’s reply was concise, almost curt. “This place suits me just fine,” she said, leaving no room for argument.
Kristian sensed her resolve and chose not to push further.
As they pulled up outside her building, Freya exited the car briskly and directed the movers towards the underground garage.
Left behind, Gerard turned to Kristian, his voice breaking the lingering silence. “Sir, are we off to the office now?”
Kristian gave him a brief, distracted glance, his mind still partly with Freya.
Gerard was perplexed, his mind a whirl of confusion. What was that supposed to mean? It made no sense to him whatsoever.
“Freya is still my wife,” Kristian declared, his voice icy, his face a mask of impassivity. “Are you just going to sit here and watch her struggle on her own?”
With a flash of insight, Gerard caught on to Kristian’s intentions. A subtle smile crept across his face as he responded, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure she and all her possessions are safely escorted back to her place.”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.