The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Eleanor POV

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I sat at the Wells family dining table, watching as Derek carefully arranged a portion of roasted asparagus on my plate. His fingers

moved with precision, placing each spear just so, as if the arrangement of vegetables was suddenly the most important task in the

world. This attentiveness was a performance, of course-a show put on entirely for Margaret’s benefit.

“Would you like more salmon, Eleanor?” Derek asked, his voice carrying that warm timbre he reserved exclusively for public

appearances. “Chef Raymond outdid himself tonight.”

“Just a small piece, thank you,” I replied, offering him a practiced smile.

Derek cut a perfect portion and transferred it to my plate, his fingers briefly brushing against mine as he handed me back my fork

The small contact sent an unwelcome flutter through my chest. I hated how responsive my body remained to his touch, even after

everything.

Margaret beamed at us from the head of the table. Her face, though still pale from her illness, glowed with satisfaction as she

watched our carefully choreographed dance of marital bliss.

“You two,” she said, her voice tender with affection. It does my heart good to see you taking care of each other.”

I took a sip of water to hide my discomfort. If only she knew the truth-that this marriage had been nothing but a business arrangement from the start, with a built-in expiration date now rapidly approaching. Derek and I weren’t taking care of each other; we were simply fulfilling our contractual obligations one last time.

As I cut into my salmon, I found myself wondering what life might have been like if our marriage had been real. If Derek had actually loved me, perhaps by now we would have had a child-a little one with Derek’s piercing blue eyes and imperious attitude. The thought caught me off guard, leaving a hollow ache in my chest I hadn’t anticipated.

“You know, Margaret said, setting down her fork, “you two have been married for nearly three years now.”

I nodded cautiously, unsure where she was going with this observation.

“I was wondering… Margaret leaned forward slightly, her eyes twinkling. “When are you planning to give me a great-grandchild?”

The fork nearly slipped from my fingers. I fumbled to maintain my grip, feeling heat rush to my face. Beside me, Derek had gone perfectly still, though his expression remained pleasantly neutral.

Im not getting any younger, Margaret continued, oblivious to my distress. “And you’re not getting any younger either, my dears.

Now is the perfect time.”

Do you remember when Derek and Alexander were little boys? Margaret’s eyes took on a faraway look. “Derek was always the mischievous one. At four years old, he once decided to redecorate’ Jonathan’s office with finger paints. She chuckled, the sound warm with nostalgia. “We found handprints in the oddest places for months afterward.

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Chapter 90

Jonathan, who had been quietly observing until now, cleared his throat. As I recall, Alexander was his accomplice in that particular

adventure. He stood guard at the door.”

“Alexander?” I couldn’t help but glance across the table at Derek’s composed older brother, trying to imagine him as a child

conspirator.

“Oh yes, Margaret nodded enthusiastically. “They were quite the team when they wanted to be. Do you remember the frog incident,

Jonathan?

“How could I forget?” Jonathan’s typically stern face softened with the memory. “The boys collected at least twenty frogs from the pond and released them during Catherine’s garden party. The Ladies’ Horticultural Society was not amused.”

Derek laughed, a genuine sound that made my heart skip. “In my defense, we thought the ladies would appreciate some authentic

garden wildlife.”

“You were grounded for two weeks, Catherine said, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Worth it,” Derek murmured, winking at me as if we shared the joke.

Margaret sighed happily. “I do miss having little ones around the house. If you two had a boy, I imagine he’d be just as spirited as

his father.”

“And if it were a girl?” Derek asked, surprising me with his engagement in this fantasy.

“Oh! Margaret clasped her hands together. “A little girl would be wonderful. She’d have Eleanor’s beauty and kindness, I’m sure. And hopefully your business acumen, Derek, not your penchant for mischief.” She turned to me, her eyes bright. “Can you imagine a little girl with Derek’s eyes and your smile, Eleanor? She’d be absolutely enchanting.

I couldn’t speak. The vision was too painful to contemplate-the child we would never have, the family we would never be.

“Grandmother, Derek said gently, his hand coming to rest on mine in a gesture that felt strangely protective. “You’re making

Eleanor blush. Look at her cheeks-they’re positively crimson.”

‘Well, it’s natural to discuss these things, Margaret insisted. “When I was your age, I already had two children.”

Jonathan leaned forward. “Mother, perhaps we should give them some time. Derek has only just returned from London.”

Exactly my point, Margaret countered. Now that he’s back, they can focus on starting a family.”

“It’s definitely my fault, Grandmother,” Derek said, his voice contrite. “I’ll do better. I promise you, I’ll… work on it.”

1 nearly choked on my water. The double meaning in his words wasn’t lost on me, and I felt my face burn hotter. Derek Wells, agreeing to work on getting me pregnant, when we were weeks away from signing divorce papers. The absurdity of it all made me

want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

Look at poor Eleanor, Derek continued, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of my hand. “She’s absolutely mortified. Let’s

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Chapter 90

not put too much pressure on her tonight.”

Derek and I exchanged a brief glance, a silent agreement passing between us. Neither of us would tell Margaret the truth-not tonight, not while she looked so happy and hopeful.

The mussels are exceptional tonight,” Catherine interjected smoothly, offering me a rare lifeline. “Eleanor, you must try them. They’re prepared with a white wine sauce that I think you’ll appreciate.”

I gratefully accepted the change of subject, though I could feel Alexander’s thoughtful gaze on me from across the table. Unlike the

others, he seemed to see right through our charade, his eyes reflecting a knowledge-or perhaps a longing-that made me

uncomfortable.

For the remainder of dinner, Derek and I continued our performance, smiling and touching and pretending we were in love. And

with each passing moment, I couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if any of it had been real.

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Longing? Don’t ho down that path author.

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love