Eve's smile grew, her heart warmed at the idea. There was something refreshing about his eagerness to share in something that was so personal to her. And for a moment, she allowed herself to imagine it—the two of them, surrounded by the hills and trees, the breeze carrying the scent of earth and flowers, with nothing but the sound of birds and their brushes against the canvas.
"That does sound tempting," she mused, her eyes drifting out the window for a moment before settling back on him. "Actually, my farmhouse is in the hills. The view is stunning, especially in the early afternoon when the light hits just right. Why don't we paint there? We could enjoy the nature, and I could make us lunch afterward."
His smile widened, excitement flickering behind his calm demeanor. The idea of spending a whole day with her, away from everything, in such an intimate setting, made his heart race in a way that surprised him.
"Your farmhouse, the hills, and your cooking? Now that's an offer I can't refuse," he said, his tone light, but the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable. "I'm in."
Eve felt a soft flutter in her chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate she was holding.
She liked this side of him—the playful, adventurous side. He had a way of making her feel like she could let go of the walls she'd built around herself. His honesty, his teasing yet genuine nature—it all made her want to spend more time with him, to see where this connection could lead.
For the first time in a long while, Eve was looking forward to tomorrow.
"Alright then," she said, her voice soft but filled with quiet excitement. "Tomorrow it is. I'll show you my secret spots, the places I used to paint as a teenager."
Vincent leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, a smile playing on his lips. "I can't wait to see them. And maybe," he added with a wink, "I'll surprise you with my own artistic talents. Who knows, I might be a secret Picasso."
Eve laughed softly, shaking her head. "We'll see about that. But I'll hold you to it. You're not getting out of this easily."
They stood to leave. Vincent held the door open for her, the cool evening air rushing in.
"Thank you for tonight," Eve said, her voice warm and sincere as she looked up at him. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."
Vincent smiled down at her, his hand brushing lightly against her arm as they stepped out into the street. "The pleasure was all mine, Eve. I'm really looking forward to tomorrow."
Eve met his gaze, feeling a strange feeling flutter in her chest. It wasn't just the idea of painting or spending time in nature—it was him. She had been careful for so long, guarded after everything she'd been through. But with him, she wanted to take a chance.
"Me too," she said softly, her eyes lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.
They exchanged goodbyes, and Eve walked away. She couldn't help but smile to herself, anticipation bubbling inside her for what tomorrow would bring.
~~~~~~~~
The driver drove back to her farmhouse. A soft smile played on her lips, and she could feel the warmth of their conversation making her feel light in a way she hadn't experienced in a long time.
The hills seemed quieter tonight, the silence soothing her.
But her phone buzzed. Glancing over, her heart sank when she saw the name glowing on the screen: Nathan.
The smile faded instantly, replaced by a cold, creeping tension. Of course, he knew. He always did. Her fingers hovered above the phone, unsure. Should she answer? She didn't want to. Not now.
But the buzzing continued, relentless. She knew Nathan. He wouldn't stop until she picked up.
With a resigned sigh, Eve pressed the green button and brought the phone to her ear. "Hello?"
Nathan's voice came through, smooth as silk, with an almost sickening sweetness. "Eve, darling, there you are. I've been trying to reach you."
There was a pause. Her grip tightened on the seat, her pulse quickening. That voice—there was something off about it tonight, something she couldn't quite place. Was it the honeyed tone? The feigned warmth?
"Nathan," she said evenly, trying to keep her voice calm. "I've been busy."
"I can see that," he replied, his voice laced with a playful edge that made her stomach turn. "Chicago, huh? Quite the little trip. What are you up to there?"
Her breath caught. He knew. Of course, he knew. A knot of anxiety tightened in her chest as she scrambled for something to say.
"Just... needed some time," Eve said, her voice more defensive than she intended. "You know how much I needed to get away."
For a brief second, there was silence on the other end. Then Nathan's voice, still maddeningly sweet, broke the tension. "Of course, darling. I'm glad you're taking some time for yourself. It's important to recharge, right?"
His words were dipped in false concern, and Eve could feel her frustration building. There was always something calculated about the way Nathan spoke, and tonight was no different. He was playing a part, but why?
Before she could respond, his voice shifted, the casual tone dropping just slightly. "Oh, by the way, I'm with your father right now. He wanted to talk to you."
Her heart sank. Of course. This wasn't just about Nathan. He had roped her father into it. Her pulse quickened, and she could feel her palms grow damp against the seat.
Richard Windsor was a man of stature, someone Eve had spent her entire life trying to please, trying to live up to his expectations. And now Nathan had placed her right in the middle of an impromptu check-in with her father.
Before she could even protest, there was a rustling sound, and her father's deep voice came over the line.
"Eve?" Richard's voice was calm, measured, the way it always was. But it carried the weight of expectation with it. "What's this I hear about you going to Chicago without telling anyone?"
Eve felt her stomach twist, her fingers tightening around the phone. "Dad," she began, trying to sound casual, "it was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. I needed to get away for a few days, clear my head. I didn't think it was a big deal."
There was a pause on the other end, and she could imagine her father's brow furrowing, his mind already calculating the reasons for her trip. Richard Windsor was never a man to take things lightly.
"Why didn't you mention it before?" he asked, his voice still steady. "You know, your mother and I worry when you do things like this. You just leave without saying anything."
Eve sighed, her nerves fraying. "I didn't mean to worry you. I just needed some time alone."
Her father's tone softened slightly, but it was still far from warm. "I understand that, but you should have called. Especially with everything going on."
She knew what he meant—Nathan, the family name, the miscarriages. Her life had become a series of duties, responsibilities, appearances to maintain. And her father, for all his concern, saw her actions through the lens of the family's reputation.
"I'll be back soon," Eve said, her voice quieter now, exhaustion creeping in. "I just needed some time. That's all."
There was a pause before her father spoke again, this time with a slight hint of approval. "Alright. Just... don't be a stranger, Eve. We miss you."
It was his version of affection, but Eve barely registered it. Her mind was already spiraling back to Nathan, to the trap he had set for her. She could feel it, the way he had placed her in this position, knowing she would have no choice but to play along.
"Thanks, Dad," Eve said softly. "I'll talk to you soon."
There was a rustling again, and then Nathan's voice returned, a smug undertone now in his words. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
Eve felt her teeth clench, anger rising in her throat. She wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop playing games, to stop dragging her into his manipulations. But instead, she forced herself to stay calm.
"Why are you acting like this, Nathan?" she asked, her voice cold now, the warmth from earlier completely gone.
Nathan chuckled, a low, self-satisfied sound. "Acting? Come on, Eve. I'm just making sure your father knows how much I care about you. He worries, you know."
Eve wanted to scream. This was all a performance, an act to make her father believe that he was the perfect husband, the perfect son-in-law. It was all for show. And the worst part? Her father would believe every word.
"You're unbelievable," she muttered, shaking her head.
There was a pause, and when Nathan spoke again, his voice was quieter, but still cold. "Careful, Eve. You don't want to make things harder than they need to be."
Eve swallowed, her throat tightening. She knew what he meant. The subtle threat, the control he still had over her life. Even now, thousands of miles away, he was still pulling the strings.
"I'll be back soon," she said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion.
"Good," Nathan replied smoothly, his tone returning to its usual false charm. "I'll be waiting."
And then, with a soft click, the line went dead.
Eve lowered the phone, her hands trembling slightly. She hated how Nathan had this effect on her, how he could take something beautiful and twist it into something suffocating.
As the driver pulled into the driveway of her farmhouse, Eve took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Tomorrow was supposed to be a fresh start. She couldn't let Nathan ruin that. Not again.
She deserved this time, this moment of happiness, even if it was fleeting.