When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2047

"Pretty well, actually. Yannick has treated me with nothing but kindness. He planned to bring me over to see you today, but when you weren't here at first, he headed in to work."

She chose those words carefully, hoping to sweep away the old tension that still lingered between the two men.

A flicker—almost irritation—crossed Nicholas' face, though he masked it quickly. "If he treats you well, that's all that matters."

"Mm." Jocelyn lowered her eyes, then took a half-step back. "If there's nothing else, I should go."

She needed to let Yannick know she had found Nicholas.

Nicholas' voice softened, almost pleading. "It's been ages since we sat down and really talked. Stay and share a meal with me before you go, will you?"

Jocelyn shook her head. "I'd better not. Yannick is waiting for me to come home."

Nicholas arched an eyebrow. "Didn't you just say he was at work?" He chuckled, gentle yet persistent. "Relax. It's only dinner—nothing more than a conversation."

Cornered by his sincerity, Jocelyn could only nod. "All right."

They walked the short distance to a quiet restaurant.

Inside, Jocelyn selected a bright table pressed against the window—visible to anyone who might pass by. She wanted no misunderstandings.

Nicholas studied the deliberate choice, understanding the unspoken fear behind it. A shadow crossed his eyes before he forced it away.

He slid the leather-bound menu toward her. "Go ahead, order."

Without thinking, Jocelyn chose the dishes she used to order for him every day—his favorites, memorized after years as his assistant. It felt as natural as breathing.

Nicholas tilted his head. "Don't you have anything you yourself like?"

She blinked, caught off guard. "I'm easy. I'll eat whatever's served."

Nicholas tapped a long finger against the menu, hesitated, then told the waiter, "Bring every signature dish you have."

Only a moment earlier, he had realized, with a small shock, that he did not know Jocelyn's taste in food at all.

"Of course, sir," the waiter said, jotting notes before vanishing toward the kitchen.

"You're still angry with me, aren't you?" Nicholas continued, words tumbling out. "I feared Yannick might not truly cherish you, so I had people test him—to help you see him clearly."

Something in Jocelyn's heart loosened, the knot of resentment slipping one fragile thread.

Slowly, Nicholas drew a sleek card from his jacket and laid it on the table, the gold foil catching the afternoon light.

Jocelyn's brows knitted. "Mr. Nicholas, what is this?" she asked, genuine confusion swimming in her eyes.

"It's yours," Nicholas said after a breath. He hesitated, then added, "The Hayes family isn't any ordinary family. When you marry in, you'll need your own resources so no one can push you around."

His reasoning jabbed at her like a pin. An ache spread quietly through her chest.

"Thank you, Nicholas. Really, thank you," she whispered.

"You don't have to thank me," he murmured with fragile warmth. "I only want to see you well."

Jocelyn slid the card back toward him. "But I can't take this. I understand the gesture, but I truly can't accept the money."