And that was when she felt it.
He was here.
Ilse wasn’t precisely sure if the billionaire was already inside their bedroom. She only knew he was near enough to watch her, and it was all she could do not to stop her hand from moving.
He continued to stare at her, and her pen began to scrawl indiscriminately on the paper.
Quertymisdfnagfowersgsg
Misadfnr-udsf03
$02nivniit
She felt the billionaire start to retreat, turning away from her slowly, and it was all she could do not to lose her grip on her pen.
She had to keep writing. She had to keep pretending. She had to keep lying.
She had to, so that if the billionaire ever thought of glancing back—-
He wouldn’t know that she knew he had chosen to leave her...again.
When the billionaire finally came back to her side, Ilse had already fallen asleep in their bed, and she woke gradually to his touch. “J-Jaak?”
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
She turned towards his voice, could sense him seated at the edge of their bed. “What time is it?” she asked groggily.
“Time for you to decide where you want to have brunch,” the billionaire answered mildly. “Do you want me to send up a tray for you or do you feel like going down?”
“I’ll just shower and then I’ll go down.” She paused then said very casually, “What time did you come up?”
“I didn’t at all.”
Ah.She pretended to rub her eyes, but really, it was just so she could give herself time.
“Too much work.”
Liar.
Liar.
Liar.
And yet it was only the first of many other excuses, the first of many nights that they wouldn’t touch.
Chapter Nineteen
Jaak left on her third day home, citing an emergency at work, and Ilse bid him goodbye cheerfully, telling him not to worry about her. Her blindness shouldn’t keep him from working, she had told him, and it was essential they started acting like normal. The billionaire had been swift to agree, and she had been just as swift to pretend she hadn’t noticed the relief in his voice.
While he was away, the billionaire had arranged for Ilse to meet with various specialists, some of whom he had even flown from other parts of the world. And yet the prognosis remained the same from all of them.
There was no guarantee treatments would work, no guarantee her eyes would heal on their own. There was no guarantee they could find a donor who would match her need, no guarantee that even with the perfect match, she could see again.
No guarantee.
And Ilse knew that they were telling her in a roundabout fashion that she could only hope for a miracle.
On the eighth day that the billionaire was away, Jan asked her if Jaak was indeed coming home tomorrow night.
