The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103

Eleanor POV

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Several days had passed. The terror of that night at the Windsor Club and Derek’s possessive kiss the following morning still haunted me like a shadow. I had buried myself in work at the flower shop, deliberately not returning his calls or reading his

messages, trying to gain some semblance of peace. Sometimes, I would freeze at the vibration of my phone, dreading it was him yet

hoping it was him-a contradiction that only confirmed keeping my distance was the right decision.

I was arranging the last bouquet of white roses and eucalyptus when the bell above the door chimed. Four Seasons Florals was

technically closed, the ‘CLOSED’ sign already flipped, but I hadn’t locked the door yet. December in Boston had brought an early

sunset, and the streetlights on Newbury Street were already glowing against the darkening sky.

“We’re closed for- The words died on my lips as Derek stepped inside, bringing with him a gust of cold air. He wore a charcoal wool

coat, his breath visible as white puffs that quickly dissipated in the warm air of the shop. My hands froze around the stems I was

wrapping, suddenly clumsy with awareness.

“You’re here again,” I said, hating how my voice betrayed a hint of nervousness. After what had happened between us-the divorce,

the assault at the Windsor Club, and that morning in my bed when he’d kissed me with such possessive intensity-I’d been avoiding

him for days, ignoring his calls and texts.

Derek’s eyes, that familiar Wells family gray-blue, assessed me carefully. Grandma is in the hospital. Boston General. Her heart.”

My hands tightened around the flowers. “What happened?”

“The doctors say it’s a complication from her earlier procedure. Derek took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “She’s been

asking for you.

I set down the bouquet, trying to gather my thoughts. “Why didn’t anyone call me?”

“Mother didn’t want to,” he said simply. Then, with a slight hesitation: “The doctor mentioned stress as a contributing factor. The

news about our divorce… it might have affected her more than we thought.”

The implication hung heavy in the air between us. I turned away, reaching for my coat and scarf on the rack by the register. The

thick camel-colored cashmere and wool had been a gift from Margaret last Christmas. I wrapped the scarf around my neck, avoiding

Derek’s gaze.

Ill go see her now,” I said, reaching for my purse.

Derek nodded, holding the door open for me. I have a car waiting.”

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beeping of monitors. Margaret Wells looked smaller than I remembered, propped up against white pillows, her silver hair carefully combed but lacking its usual perfect styling. The lunch tray beside her bed was

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Chapter 103

barely touched-a bowl of soup still full, the bread untouched.

Martha stood by the bed with a concerned expression, eyeing the uneaten food.

“Mrs. Wells, please try to eat something, she encouraged gently.

Margaret turned her head toward the door as we entered. For a moment, her eyes brightened at the sight of me, but then something

like guilt crossed her face. She turned away, her shoulders. slumping slightly

“I don’t have the appetite, Martha,” she said, then added in a whisper that broke my heart. I can’t face her.”

I moved to her bedside, removing my scarf and coat. “Margaret, it’s me, Eleanor.”

She wouldn’t look at me directly. “I know, dear. I just… I don’t deserve your kindness anymore.”

I tried to help adjust her pillows, to give my hands something to do. “You should try to drink some of the soup at least. For

strength.”

Margaret’s hand, paper-thin and spotted with age, reached out to grasp mine. Her grip was surprisingly strong, anchoring me to her

side.

“Eleanor,” she said, her voice steadier now, I need to tell you something. About the marriage… about the three-year arrangement.”

I glanced at Derek, who stood by the door, his face expressionless. “Margaret, you don’t need to-

“It was all my idea,” she continued, as if I hadn’t spoken. “Jonathan and Catherine only agreed because they thought I was dying.

But I… I orchestrated everything.”

The confession hung in the air. I sat carefully on the edge of the bed, still holding her hand.

I was selfish, Margaret continued. “I worried about you being alone after your parents… and I worried about myself too. I wanted

to see my favorite grandson settled before I died. Her eyes filled with tears. “I pushed you both into a marriage without love. I’m so

sorry, Eleanor.

Comments

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I don’t think he’s playing a game. He just doesn’t know what he wants still. He’d better decide before he loses someone precious and special.

7 days ago

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love