Chapter 371

Nathan exhaled quietly through his nose. "Remember to take your medication," he instructed before pivoting on his heel and striding out without another glance.

Evelyn didn't watch him leave. She mechanically finished her meal, though the supposedly comforting flavors registered as nothing more than ash on her tongue.

After swallowing the last bite, she took her pills with practiced efficiency. The clammy discomfort clinging to her skin demanded attention. A shower became imperative. Though her limbs trembled with residual weakness, she forced herself through the motions.

Emerging from the steam-filled bathroom, she moved with deliberate caution, gripping the doorframe for balance. At the vanity, she lifted the hair dryer only to abandon it immediately - even that lightweight object felt like an impossible burden now.

Just as she resigned herself to air-drying, the door swung open.

Nathan's stormy expression darkened further at the sight of her dripping hair. "Are you trying to relapse?" he snapped, voice sharp as shattered glass. "Or have you forgotten last week's fever?"

Evelyn met his gaze in the mirror, her eyes calm but distant. Without waiting for response, Nathan snatched up the dryer. "I'll do it," he declared in a tone that brooked no argument.

She flinched instinctively when he approached, but his hand anchored firmly on her shoulder. "Stay still." Though her lashes flickered, she offered no resistance. Exhaustion had sanded down all her sharp edges.

Nathan worked with unexpected gentleness despite his thunderous expression. His inexperience showed - several times the brush caught painfully in her tangles. Evelyn remained statue-still, as if the discomfort couldn't penetrate her numbness.

Watching her reflection, Nathan's chest constricted. He'd prefer her fury, her tears - anything but this glacial detachment. She'd retreated behind walls he couldn't breach.

When the last strand dried, he set the dryer down with unnecessary force and exited without ceremony. Evelyn sat motionless for three full minutes before returning to bed, where sleep continued to elude her.

That afternoon, Leonard's arrival broke the suffocating silence. "Evelyn, you're still pale," he fretted, brow creased with concern.

A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "I'm recovering, Leonard. Really."

"Good, good." He patted her hand absently, the conversation lapsing into quiet.

After dinner, Evelyn caught his sleeve. "Walk with me in the garden?"

Recognizing her unspoken request for privacy, Leonard nodded. He exchanged a glance with Margaret, who discreetly remained behind.

Their footsteps crunched along the gravel path in companionable silence until Leonard finally prompted, "What troubles you?"

Evelyn took a steadying breath. "Tomorrow's your birthday gala. I'll attend as a family friend of the Grants."

Leonard stiffened as if struck. "Absolutely not!" he spluttered. "You're Nathan's wife - my daughter-in-law! This is precisely the occasion to make that clear to everyone!"

His plans to formally present her as part of their family crumbled beneath her quiet declaration. The mere suggestion of her attending as anything less than family was untenable.