When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2056

Zach scratched the back of his head. "Was it really that long?"

From stepping out to dialing and returning had been, at most, ten-odd minutes—by his count, anyway.

"You tell me," George said, voice frosty. "Perhaps you don't need dinner after all."

Zachary sensed the sudden chill rolling off George and shot Vivian a pleading look, eyebrows raised in silent alarm that asked, "What did I do this time?"

Vivian pretended not to notice. Head bowed, she lifted another bite of rice and murmured, "Grandpa George, the dishes are wonderful tonight."

"Have as much as you like," George replied, his tone warm and grandfatherly—a jarring contrast to the frost he had just aimed at Zachary.

Zachary slid into his seat, forcing a bright grin. "My cooking's not half bad, right? In the last few days, I've mastered a lot."

Silence dropped like a stone into still water. Zachary's grin froze, stranded in the hush.

Vivian and George continued eating, perfectly synchronized in their shared indifference.

Mistaking the hush for deafness, Zachary picked up a slice of lean pork and held it out toward George.

"Grandpa, have some more—lean meat is good for you."

George lifted his fork, took the meat from Zachary, and—without a flicker of emotion—dropped it straight into the trash can by the sideboard.

By the time George set his utensils down, Zachary was still mid-air, fork frozen halfway to the table.

His jaw went slack; disbelief widened his eyes.

"Grandpa...do you despise me that much?"

George shot him a sideways glance and resumed eating, as though the question were mere background noise.

Only then did understanding click—both of them were angry with him, though he had no idea why.

"Grandpa, Vivian, if you're upset with me, at least tell me why."

George then said, "You contacted that woman. After that, how do you expect Vivian and me to treat you?"

When Vivian returned to her room, she found Zachary slumped on the couch, staring at her as though the world had fallen out from under him.

"You're back."

Vivian breathed out a barely audible hum, the sound hanging between them like a feathery thread.

Zachary drew a slow breath, his eyes steady. "I think you and Grandpa misunderstood earlier. I told you before—Stella was only pretending to be unstable. I had her admitted to the psychiatric hospital. Now she can't keep up the act, wants to leave, and insists on seeing me."

The moment his explanation settled, understanding clicked behind Vivian's eyes, lifting the fog that had clouded her thoughts.

"Then why didn't you say something sooner?" she asked, a whisper of grievance sliding through the words.

Zachary stepped closer, mild exasperation softening into tenderness as his gaze dropped to the gentle swell of her belly. "Neither you nor Grandpa gave me a chance to squeeze in a single word back there."

He smiled, palm hovering just shy of her stomach. "Now that I've got you and our baby, the last thing I'll do is wander. I'm not going to see her, I promise."

A sudden blush rushed across Vivian's cheeks. She turned her head away and muttered, "I'm not worried. Why would I ever worry about you?"