How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 872

At Fleming’s suggestion that he and Esmeralda have some time alone, Esmeralda’s father waved her on with a satisfied smile. “Well, what are you two standing around for?” he teased. “You’ve spent enough time apart—with Fleming back now, you can finally build a real relationship.”

Esmeralda glanced at Fleming, utterly lost as to what was going on.

He just nodded, silent as ever, then turned and walked out into the yard.

With a twinge of unease, she trailed after him.

The courtyard was still bathed in light. Fleming kept walking until they were well out of earshot, then turned to face her.

“What’s with that look?” she asked as she caught up, catching the tension in his eyes, the way he seemed to be holding back something sharp and cold. There wasn’t the faintest trace of warmth in the way he looked at her.

Even after all this time, being so attuned to Fleming’s moods, Esmeralda knew things were bad.

“What do you mean?” Fleming asked, voice as hard as ice, but he didn't raise it.

Esmeralda frowned, genuinely bewildered. “What are you talking about?”

Her confusion struck Fleming that she was playing the innocent, pretending nothing had happened. If Lucy hadn’t told him there would be a meeting today, what would Esmeralda have said to his family?

“If you didn’t want to call off the wedding, you didn’t have to do all this,” he said, his tone crisp and controlled. “Keeping secrets from me won’t solve anything. I’m the groom. Even if you and my father worked everything out behind my back, if I say no, who’s going to force me? And even if the mind changed, there’s nothing shameful about being honest.”

His tone never changed.

But every word blamed her for acting on her own without so much as talking to him.

Only now did Esmeralda realize what was going on.

Fleming actually thought she’d orchestrated this whole wedding, secretly making arrangements behind his back?

And that now she might be about to break her word?

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