When Eltham's confession got stuck in his throat, he felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. It dawned on him that Brittany had never considered their engagement anything more than a convenient arrangement, not a matter of the heart. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he struggled to maintain his composure as the atmosphere inside the car grew tense.
After a while, Eltham managed to regain his calm. "You're right," he conceded, "coexisting peacefully is the best we can hope for now."
Brittany didn't dwell on the conversation. Exhausted from the long day and with little energy left to spar with Eltham, she yawned, "I'm beat. I could use a nap."
"Go ahead, I'll wake you when we get there," Eltham offered, a hint of warmth returning to his voice.
With a light, carefree smile, Brittany thanked him and eased into the leather seat, letting her guard down for a moment of rest.
Eltham slowed the car down, his gaze unintentionally drifting towards Brittany.
The crisp autumn air turned biting cold, as if overnight, turning Craneville into a frostbitten landscape. The chill seeped through the windows, numbing his fingers.
Reaching for a blanket from the back seat, he gently covered Brittany with it. As he pulled away, his hand accidentally brushed her face.
Time had been kind to Brittany, her skin fair and delicate, untouched by age, her features refined and youthful, embodying a timeless beauty.
Eltham found himself captivated by her.
He first met Brittany three years ago. She was the head of Bri-jeweled Studio, attending a gala with Ysabel. Dressed in a black evening gown, she looked like a sprite of the night, her laughter and bright eyes enchanting everyone around her. Raised in a world of strict discipline, Eltham was accustomed to concealing his emotions, to restraint and propriety.
But Brittany was a wildcard, her unbridled spirit and unconventional thinking cracking open his meticulously controlled life, making a space for herself within it.
Yet, her casual mention of coexisting peacefully felt like a cold bucket of water, dousing his fervent emotions, leaving him unable to even muster a shred of blame towards her.
Time, he thought, they had plenty of it to learn to get along.
Patience was key, as good things often come to those who wait.
...
At the Lynette Mansion, it was already eleven, and Brittany was yet to return.
Daniel refused to go to bed, insisting Yuri stay up with him in the garden, waiting for his mother's return.
The expansive garden, meticulously maintained by the gardeners, was a sight to behold, especially under the blanket of autumn. The stone pathway meandered through the yellowing trees, a silent witness to the changing seasons. Eventually, the sound of a car engine broke the stillness.
Daniel's eyes lit up, and he dashed to the door, leaving Yuri behind. "Mom!"
But the figure that emerged from the car, locking eyes with him, wasn't who he expected.
The light in Daniel's eyes faded in an instant.
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