Chapter 97

Evelyn's fingers curled around the glass as she turned to pour water, her voice crisp. "If you're unwell, Dominic, you should be resting."

The ice cubes clinked against crystal as she filled it to the brim.

"I feel significantly better today." Dominic's long fingers unwound the cashmere scarf from his neck, the fabric whispering against his tailored coat.

"That's precisely what you claimed yesterday." Evelyn took a deliberate sip before setting the glass down with finality. Her gaze caught on the assortment of gift boxes cluttering the living room floor. "What's all this?"

Dominic's shoulders lifted in a practiced shrug. "One doesn't visit empty-handed." He hesitated, then pivoted smoothly. "I only learned this morning that you returned last night."

"Is that why you're here?" Evelyn perched on the sofa's edge, almond-shaped eyes assessing his pallid complexion from across the coffee table.

A full meter of polished oak separated them.

"Regarding Bianca and I—"

"I've no interest in your affairs." Evelyn's interruption came sharp as shattered glass. "Your relationship with her holds no fascination for me."

Dominic watched the glacial set of her features, frustration coiling in his gut.

"Shall we discuss Tristan and me next?" Her chin lifted in challenge. "Dominic, even if he deceives me, the consequences are mine alone to bear. I won't involve you, nor seek your assistance. So spare me your warnings."

Like a willful child, Evelyn seemed determined to touch fire precisely when warned of burns. Dominic's lips pressed into a bloodless line as he absorbed her defiance.

The growl of Evelyn's stomach broke the tension. She rose, padding to the kitchen where Clara's breakfast waited in the warmer. Returning with a steaming bun, she took deliberate bites under Dominic's watchful gaze.

"Was there something else?" Evelyn brushed crumbs from her fingers. "If not, you should leave."

"I'll stay for lunch." The declaration hung between them.

Evelyn's brows arched. Denying a meal seemed petty, even for their strained dynamic. "Stay then. I'm going out." She moved toward the bedroom.

"Evelyn." Dominic followed, his voice roughened. "Will you ever return home?"

Her fingers paused on the doorframe. "This is my home."

"Did Eleanor say something to you last night?"

"No." The lie came easily. No need to upset a recovering man. "Our issues exist between us. We're fundamentally incompatible."

Dominic stepped into the bedroom, shutting the door with a soft click. The confined space—barely ten square meters—suddenly felt suffocating.

"And what constitutes compatibility?" His voice dropped an octave.

"Comfort." Evelyn met his gaze unflinchingly. "You make me profoundly uncomfortable."

Dominic's control snapped. "Did Tristan make you comfortable?" The words emerged through clenched teeth. "Answer me."

"Infinitely more than you ever could." When he advanced, Evelyn shoved against his chest. "Don't be obscene! Being ill doesn't grant you liberties!"

The rasp of a zipper filled the room.

Dominic shed his jacket, revealing a gray V-neck that clung to his torso. Beads of sweat glistened at the hollow of his throat as he hung the coat neatly.

"Are you mad? You'll relapse!" Evelyn grabbed for the garment, but Dominic caught her waist, tossing her onto the bed with controlled force.