Chapter 59

Julian froze in silence, a rare fog clouding his usually precise mind.

Could it be that he had truly fallen for Yvonne?

By all accounts, she had been a dutiful wife. In the three years they had lived together, she had never once caused trouble for him. But that was it-she had simply not been an inconvenience.

She hadn't been his choice. She had been placed into his life by the Powell family.

And Julian, who had always despised chains of obligation, had resisted her from the start out of sheer defiance toward the marriage forced upon him.

To admit that he might be falling for her now felt like betrayal-betrayal of his pride, his principles, of the self he had clung to for so long. But why, then, had he been softening toward her?Why had he found himself reaching for her without thought?

A flicker of unease crossed his eyes before he forced it down, steadying himself with cold logic. The answer was simple. He wasn't falling in love. He merely hated chaos. If Yvonne divorced him, it would bring waves of complication, and Julian loathed nothing more than trouble.

When he,finally met Yvonne's gaze, he spoke evenly,his voice calm, almost detached. "You are my wife.As long as there is no divorce, I won't allow anyone to hurt you."

The hope that had lit Yvonne's eyes faltered. Her lips curved upward, but the smile that formed was hollow,breaking apart at the edges. "I see," she murmured.

With forced composure, she lifted the bowl of salad,spooning it into her mouth. Her voice came muffled,trembling faintly as if she were fighting tears. "You should go.I need to rest." The words she had swallowed down-the questions,the pleas-were crushed beneath his indifferent answer, leaving her dignity in tatters.

Julian's mouth pressed into a hard line as his phone vibrated insistently in his pocket, pulling him away.

In the end, he said nothing more. He turned, his footsteps quiet as he left the room behind.

Tears slipped down Yvonne's cheeks, falling into the bowl and turning the food bitter, yet she forced herself to keep eating spoonful after spoonful.

The heaviness in her stomach built until a wave of nausea struck. She rushed into the bathroom and retched, emptying everything she had just swallowed.

Once the sickness passed, a strange calm settled over her. She rinsed her mouth, splashed cold water onto her face, and stared into the mirror. Her reflection looked pale and disheveled, but she curved her lips into a smile anyway, one that felt as fragile as glass. Inside, she repeated the words to herself like a warning-stopped dreaming of things that would never happen.

When she stepped back into the room, her eyes fell on the empty bowl. A pang of regret hit her.

She hated to admit it, but after leaving the Powell estate, Paula's cooking had been one of the few things she missed.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of her phone on the bedside table. She picked it up and saw a voice message from Trevor, his tone urgent.

"Yvonne, how are you? Are you still at the hospital?"

Before she could reply, another message followed,this time heavy with guilt.

"If I hadn't stepped away, I could've saved you myself."

She knew what he meant. The moment she had fallen into the pool, Trevor had been off checking faulty equipment. The reports that she'd been mocked and ignored by the crew must have already reached him.

Yvonne hesitated before holding down the record key. "I'm fine. I'll be discharged tomorrow."

Almost instantly, his video call request appeared.She paused, then pressed accept.

The screen lit up with the set behind him, crew members crowding into view. One by one, they greeted her, their faces showing genuine worry.

Yvonne blinked in surprise at the sight of so many faces crowding into the frame, yet she answered each greeting with gentle warmth.

Beneath her calm tone, her heart stirred. Her ties with the crew had never run deep, and more than a few had shown her disdain when she first joined them. But now, every expression reflected genuine worry, and for the first time, she felt their concern wrap around her like a fragile comfort.

Once the greetings died down, Trevor lifted a hand and spoke firmly. "Alright, that's enough. Yvonne needs to rest. Don't wear her out."

The crew scattered back to their work, leaving the screen filled only with Trevor's face. He stepped aside into a quieter corner, leaning close to the camera.

His voice dropped, carrying a note of secrecy."Yvonne, have you heard? The investors just pulled out. Our film's funding is gone."