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Chapter 32 - ❥⁠˙⁠๑ Chapter 32

Ezra Everhart

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The garden was silent, draped in the muted light of early dusk. I stood alone, detached, relishing in the quiet that wrapped around me like a thick fog. Everything had its place, and silence had always been mine.

Celine had left a few minutes ago, going off somewhere with Noah. Her absence left a void, a sense of something unfinished, but it didn't bother me. I knew how she felt, or rather, I understood her well enough to know that our paths were diverging. Celine was warmth, ease-a kind of energy I could never emulate, and frankly, I didn't care to. She and Noah were drawn to each other like magnets, their laughter fading away as they disappeared from the garden.

I took a breath, steady, letting the coolness of the air settle over me, when suddenly, footsteps disturbed the quiet once again.

"There you are!" Irina's voice rang out, breaking through my solitude. She appeared with a smile that was far too bright for my current mood, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

I barely looked her way, crossing my arms. "And why is that?"

"There's a new cafe in town. They've got lemon cakes and strawberry tarts!" Her tone was vibrant, and she seemed so assured that I would indulge her request that I couldn't help but be irritated.

I shot her a hard look. "Not interested."

For a moment, her face fell. But then, that familiar stubbornness took over as she tilted her head, eyebrows raised. "Oh, come on, Ezra. I don't get out as much as you. Just take me. It's not that big of an ask."

I turned away, hands in my pockets, my voice as steady and flat as always. "Go on your own."

She huffed, stepping closer, insistent. "Why are you so difficult? It's a simple outing. Besides, lemon cakes are all the rage. Everyone's been talking about them."

I let out a long sigh, fixing my gaze on the distant line of trees. "I said no, Irina. I'm not your escort."

Unfazed, she leaned in, that infuriating glint in her eyes only growing stronger. "But you are my husband, and you have nothing better to do."

I held her gaze, then nudged her back slightly as she came too close, making my refusal clear. "Then go find someone who cares."

For a second, she froze, her surprise evident before a look of annoyance crossed her face. "You're rude, you know that?"

We fell into an argument, both of us digging in, words growing harsher. She was persistent, unwilling to let the matter go. Every time she pushed forward, I matched her resistance, our words cutting through the quiet, each one colder than the last. She wanted a reaction, any crack in my composure, but I wasn't about to give her that satisfaction.

And then, without warning, raindrops began to fall. The rain started slowly, barely noticeable at first, just a few drops slipping through the leaves above us. Irina and I exchanged a glance as it began to come down harder, instinctively searching for cover. There was no sense of urgency between us, though; neither of us was eager to offer the other any sort of refuge.

As the rain grew into a steady downpour, I spotted an old stone archway nearby with a small alcove underneath. Without a word, I headed toward it, hearing Irina's footsteps reluctantly follow. She ducked in after me, shaking the water from her sleeves and muttering under her breath about the unexpected turn in the weather. I leaned back against the stone, allowing the silence to return, assuming she'd launch into her demands again once we'd escaped the rain.

But Irina said nothing. Instead, she stood quietly, gazing out at the sheets of water that blurred the garden into soft, gray lines. Her usual sharpness was softened in the dim light; her shoulders were tense, yet she looked oddly small, lost in her own thoughts. For once, she wasn't vying for my attention or pressing her demands. She was just... there, silent.

The minutes stretched, the patter of rain filling the space between us. A faint urge to break the silence stirred in me, an impulse I barely recognized. My voice, when I spoke, came out more tentative than I'd intended.

"Irina."

She turned around at the sound of her name, her movements slow and hesitant. And then I saw it-something I would never have expected. Tears shimmered in her eyes, catching the dull light, her expression caught somewhere between shock and confusion.

She looked as surprised as I was, as though she couldn't quite understand why she was crying any more than I did.