Chapter 267
267 Too Much, Too Fast
When Yunice refused to say a single kind word, Wyatt pressed again, “What about you? Why are you mad at me?”
Yunice’s face flushed instantly, her gaze darting away.
Why was she mad? Now that she thought about it, Wyatt had not really done anything wrong
He helped her out. “Was it because I said something harsh? Or because I didn’t catch you when you were looking for the wedding ring?”
Honestly, when she said she was angry, it was just to make herself look like she had the moral high ground. There was no specific reason.
Wyatt said, “Everyone says hurtful things when they’re pissed off. You don’t know how to curse back?”
She clutched her backpack straps in silence.
Irritated, Wyatt grabbed her by the shoulder, opened the car door with his other hand, and shoved her inside.
He got behind the wheel. Yunice sat directly behind him.
Neither of them spoke during the entire drive. And he never noticed her tear–filled eyes reflected in the window.
She had been careful, too careful, hiding her emotions.
Over the years, she had been judged by people like Owen, disappointed by people like Carl, and gossiped about by people like Bale and Amyra.
1
But Wyatt… he did not quite fit any of those molds.
Sure, he yelled at her too, but somehow, he always cut through the noise, like he could see things from her side.
For someone who had been ignored for so long, even a little concern felt like a sudden downpour, too much, too fast. It did not bring comfort. It brought grievance.
By the time they arrived at the Pavilion Hall, Yunice had already wiped her tears clean.
“Mrs. Cooper.”
She turned and found several house staff bowing in unison to her.
The Pavilion Hall did not usually have a maid. They only hired cleaners on a set schedule. Now,
267 Too Much, Too Fast
Inside, she froze for a second. Everything was the same, yet not.
Finished
The Pavilion Hall still looked like it used to, but there were new additions. Small touches of warmth scattered throughout. Fresh flower arrangements in vases. A full dressing room for
women.
At the entrance, there was even a pair of fluffy pink slippers on the shoe rack.
In the kitchen, Wyatt opened the fridge. “What do you want to eat?”
“I’m not hungry,” Yunice said.
“I haven’t eaten,” he muttered, shooting her an annoyed glance.
“Ravioli then,” she said eventually.
He glanced at the prepackaged ravioli in the fridge, then shut the door.
Instead, he pulled out a bag of fresh shrimp from the crisper and got to work.
With nothing to do, Yunice wandered into the bathroom and slowly peeled off her disguise.
By the time she walked past the kitchen again, Wyatt was at the counter, apron on, head lowered as he made ravioli from scratch.
He had taken off his jacket. The apron hugged his wine–red shirt, cinching tight around his trim
waist.
Yunice quickly looked away and sat down at the table. She checked her phone. There were several missed calls from Taylor.
She called back, and the first thing Taylor asked was, “Why’d you leave on your own?”
Yunice told her, “I’m home now. What about you?”
Taylor was fed up. The Powell family was in chaos, and she was done cleaning up after them. She went back to her parents‘ place in a huff.
“Eat.” Wyatt’s voice rose.
Yunice turned, phone still in hand, just as Wyatt placed two plates of ravioli on the table.
On the other end of the line, Taylor gasped, “Wait… did you get married?!”
Yunice hesitated. Yeah.”
“Your husband’s voice sounds really familiar…” Taylor trailed off, then quickly said, “I’ll leave you two alone, and hung up.
905 PM
207 Too Much, Too Fast
Finished
In fact, even though they were married now, Yunice still did not feel particularly close to Wyatt. It felt like one of those old–fashioned arranged marriages. They see each other once, and bam, tied for life.
After dinner, they shared the same room. Their wedding suite had moved upstairs to the second floor.
Yunice went to shower first. When she came out, she had a face towel wrapped around her, her damp hair sticking to her neck.
The bath towel she needed was hanging on a high rack. She held her face towel with one hand and reached up with the other.
The tug loosened her grip, and in a blink, the towel slipped and pooled around her feet,
Her first instinct was not to grab it. It was to look at Wyatt,
He was on the balcony, on the phone,
But at the sound, he turned. His gaze froze. Then dropped. Then rose again to meet hers.
She stood frozen, stunned, before finally scrambling to snatch up the towel, cheeks blazing. She fled to the vanity to dry her hair.
Wyatt’s eyes glinted with amusement as he ended the call and walked toward her,
Her hand paused mid–motion as she saw him place a neatly folded set of women’s pajamas on the vanity in front of her. Then he turned and went into the bathroom.
Yunice slowed her drying motions.
She had dropped that towel on purpose. She wanted Wyan to see her clearly.
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