I let her words settle before I speak. “Nathaniel doesn’t let go of pain easily,” I admit, my voice careful but steady. “But it’s not because he wants to punish you.”
Renée looks at me, something searching in her gaze.
“He loves deeply,” I continue. “He just…doesn’t know how to trust that love won’t be taken away from him.”
Her expression tightens, but she doesn’t look away.
“His walls aren’t built from resentment,” I say. “They’re built from fear. He doesn’t let people in because he can’t survive another loss… Not after Alexander, not after…” I hesitate, meeting her gaze. “Not after you.”
Renée inhales sharply but doesn’t respond.
“You didn’t lose him, Renée,” I reassure her softly. “You just have to reach him in a way that makes him feel safe.”
Silence stretches between us, broken only by the faint ticking of a nearby clock.
Renée studies me, as if seeing me for the first time.
“You really do care about him, don’t you?” she murmurs.
I hold her gaze. “I love him,” I say simply. “And I won’t give up on him.”
Her lips purse, fingers shifting on the cup’s delicate handle. Then, after a beat, her shoulders lower slightly, the stiffness in her frame easing. “Then I couldn’t ask for anyone better for him.”
The weight of her words settles in my chest, warm and heavy.
Before I have a chance to process the moment we just shared, I feel a shift in the air, and a familiar presence fills the doorway.
Nathaniel stands there, holding himself in perfect form, but there’s something brittle in the way his hands rest at his sides. His gaze locks onto mine, seeking reassurance.
I rise instinctively, moving toward him before his unease can take root. The moment my fingers brush against his wrist, I feel the way he relaxes almost immediately. But his grip on me isfirm when he catches my hand, his thumb pressing against my pulse as if anchoring himself.
He sounds almost wounded. “I was worried when you weren’t where I left you...” His fingers tighten. “I don’t like it when I can’t find you.”
I smile as I tilt my head up to face him, my thumb brushing over the back of his hand. “But you found me, didn’t you?”
Satisfaction flickers in his eyes at the realization that I am still here, within his reach.
“Damn right I did.” He leans in, lips brushing against my ear. “And I always will. You will never be lost to me.” It’s a promise.
Renée watches the exchange with a small, knowing smile.
Nathaniel finally remembers that his mother is still in the room. His blue eyes flit from me to her, his jaw clenching, his guard snapping back into place like a shield.
“What’s going on?”
His tone is suspicious now, and there is no mistaking the undercurrent of protectiveness beneath it.
Renée, ever composed, only lifts her teacup with poised, delicate grace. “Nothing at all, darling. Just bonding with Olivia.”
Nathaniel’s grip on me finally eases, but his eyes remain sharp, like he isn’t entirely convinced that nothing had been said in his absence that he needed to be wary of. But when I squeeze his hand gently, silently telling him that everything is fine, I feel some of the tension unwinding from his frame.
Before he can say anything else, a light knock comes at the door. Roger, the Caldwells’ longtime butler, steps in with a polite nod. “Pardon the interruption, but the guests have begun to arrive.”
Renée sets her cup down, her smile smooth and effortless as she stands. “Thank you, Roger. We’ll be right out.”
Before we leave, Renée turns to me again. “Merry Christmas, my dear.”
Her voice carries a warmth I hadn’t expected. I clutch the box holding the earrings as I meet her gaze, seeing her not as the poised society matriarch, but as a woman simply trying to make amends. “Merry Christmas, Renée.”
