Chapter 970:
“It’s me,” Christina said softly.
Dylan’s hand stilled mid-motion. He instantly looked up, even rising to his feet. “What brings you here?”
His voice gentled, and his eyes immediately caught the glint of jade on her wrist. That bracelet—an heirloom passed down through generations of his family—was now clasped around Christina’s arm. Could her wearing it mean she’d accepted him?
At the thought, a rush of joy swelled through him, tugging the corners of his lips into an unbidden smile.
In the next breath, Christina slipped off the bracelet and held it out to him with care.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was your family’s heirloom when I accepted it. I thought it was just another antique—I never imagined it carried such deep meaning for your family. Maybe my invitation to dance with you last night gave your grandmother the wrong impression, which is why she gave it to me. This bracelet carries extraordinary significance—I truly can’t accept it.”
The brightness that had lit up Dylan’s face faded, his smile faltering into emptiness. He had thought—perhaps, at last—she was choosing him. But he had only imagined it.
“Forget about ‘meaning’—we’re the ones who decide what matters. This bracelet became yours the moment Grandma chose you to carry its story.” He refused to take it back, wanting her to be its owner—as his wife—anyway.
“I appreciate it,” Christina murmured, “but I really can’t accept this.”
When she saw him unmoving, she gently set the bracelet down on his desk. “Please explain to your grandmother that we’re just friends. There’s nothing romantic between us.”
Dylan’s hand curled into a fist at his side, his chest twisting painfully. Were they really just friends? The truth was undeniable, but it left a dull ache, quiet yet unrelenting. Christina’s heart seemed locked away—no effort of his could close the distance.
𝖁𝖎𝖊𝖜 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖖𝖚𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉: g⍺𝗅𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⧽ⅽ𝗈𝗺
Bitterness rose in Dylan like bile. How could Brendon—unworthy in every way—hold such a deep place in Christina’s heart, enough for her to cling to the wreckage of that marriage for three long winters? Compared to him, even Robin seemed closer to Christina—their bond far more natural, far more intimate. Why was it only with him that she kept her distance?
“Mr. Scott?” Christina called gently, but he didn’t answer. She tried again, louder. “Dylan?”
“Hmm?” Dylan responded instinctively and then snapped back to reality. It was so rare to hear his name on her lips like that. When would the day come when she could say it effortlessly, as if it were a breath?
“If this troubles you, I’d be happy to clarify the matter directly with your grandmother,” she offered hesitantly, worried he might fumble for an explanation.
“There’s no need. I’ll talk to her,” Dylan replied.
“Thank you,” Christina said softly.
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