When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2059

The minutes crept into hours, the hours into days, until summer break slipped quietly upon the town, freeing every classroom and playground.

Cecilia brought the two kids home, and together, they returned to the Rainsworth Manor for a family reunion.

These weekly pilgrimages—sometimes once, sometimes twice—let her hold her two younger sons close and feel, for a few unhurried evenings, that the world was stitched back together.

With school closed, crowds of workers soon began their own journeys home, trains and buses swelling with people chasing the warmth of reunion.

On one hazy afternoon of departures and arrivals, Cecilia's phone vibrated. Calvin's name glowed on the screen.

"Ceci, we finally found Sven."

"Are you serious? How is he?"

Sven had vanished for more than a month, a silence that gnawed at Cecilia each night like a loose tooth she could not ignore.

"He's alive and stable," Calvin answered. "But he's in the hospital right now, and he can't contact you and his girlfriend for now."

Hospital?

A prickle of unease told Cecilia there was more beneath the polite summary.

"What else?"

"Details should come from Sven himself," Calvin replied. "Give him a little time. He'll reach out when he can."

"All right," she conceded, letting the question die on her tongue.

The call ended. Cecilia hurried to share the news with Charlotte.

Charlotte had been drifting through her days, misplacing files, forgetting appointments—her thoughts orbiting only Sven.

"He's really okay?" she whispered, afraid to believe it.

"Of course. Calvin swore he's safe—just unable to call for now. He'll reach you soon."

Cecilia kept Sven's hospitalization to herself, unwilling to tighten the knot already cinched around Charlotte's heart.

At that, Charlotte's rigid posture eased by a fraction.

"As long as he's fine."

Sleep had been Charlotte's enemy lately—every night birthing new nightmares where Sven abandoned her or lay bleeding beyond help.

I'm certain now—I love Jocelyn.

Truth be told, she had never dated anyone.

At twenty, while nursing Nicholas back to health, she had poured her entire heart into a hopeless crush and shut every other door. But now, everything she thought she understood about love was tilting.

Her pulse hammered, her skin grew feverish.

Seeing her frozen, Yannick lifted her hands, guiding them to circle his waist so the embrace belonged to them both.

"Jocelyn..." he breathed at last, the name trembling between them like a promise.

"Yes?" she managed, surfacing from the dizzy heat of the moment.

A slow swallow traveled down Yannick's throat.

"Did I frighten you, Jocelyn?" he asked, voice rough with concern.

"No... Not at all," she lied, shaking her head so quickly her ponytail brushed against his chest.

We're already engaged; it's just a kiss—perfectly normal.

Yannick felt her shoulders trembling and frowned. "You're shaking—are you cold?"