Chapter 31 Who is Avery?
Evelyn turned around, trembling slightly with a cold she couldn’t control. Roman was still murmuring restlessly, his brows furrowed deeply as if heavily disturbed by whatever haunted his dreams. Just to be sure of what she'd heard, she leaned closer to him again, her ear almost touching his lips.
The whispered words became clearer, his voice was filled with a kind of longing pain she’d never heard from him before.
"Please... Avery... shouldn't have left... left you... come back to me, Avery... Avery… I miss you..."
Evelyn's blood turned cold. She swallowed a lump forming in her throat, trying desperately to compose herself as his words echoed in her mind. Her chest tightened until she could barely breathe. He still held her tight in his unconscious grip. She forcefully pried his arm away and slipped from his embrace, quickly escaping to the bathroom where she locked the door behind her.
She breathed heavily, staring at her pale reflection in the mirror, her eyes were filled with something she didn't want to acknowledge. After what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a laugh—a bitter, mocking sound that echoed off the bathroom tiles.
"Evelyn, what did you expect? Love? No, no, no."
She laughed harshly, hitting herself hard on her head, as if to wake her up from her thoughts. She didn't want to cry, but tears were beginning to form in her eyes, and she didn't know why. They barely knew each other. She shouldn't feel this crushing disappointment in her chest. It was just business.
"It was a fucking contract marriage," she blurted out to her reflection.
Taking deep breaths to compose herself, she walked out. But this time, she didn't return to their bed. Instead, she walked out of the room entirely and decided to sleep in one of the guest rooms.
‘Who is Avery?’ The thought plagued her mind as she drifted into restless sleep.
\---
The next morning, sunlight flickering through the curtains woke her up. She quickly sat up, realizing she'd spent the night in the guest room.
When she stepped into the hallway, only to walk directly into a solid chest. Roman stood there, holding a cup of coffee, he looked perfectly refreshed—nothing like the disheveled man she'd seen the night before.
Her heart clenched. She ignored him completely and tried to walk toward their bedroom to shower.
Roman raised an eyebrow, noticing her cold attitude. He quickly caught her hand. "Evel—"
She screamed against her, "LET GO OF ME!" The outburst startled both of them.
"I'm... I'm sorry," she whispered, avoiding his eyes as she quickly ran to their bedroom, leaving Roman standing confused in the hallway.
After a moment, Mrs. Hartwell, who had heard the scream from downstairs, approached Roman.
"Young Master, I know this isn't my place, but I think the young mistress is upset because you didn't come home early last night, wasting all her efforts."
Roman looked even more confused. "Wasting her efforts?"
Seeing her young master's puzzled expression, she continued, "The young miss prepared many dishes last night, waiting for you. She wanted to surprise you, but when you didn't come home early, all the food went to waste, along with her efforts."
Roman's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He'd never imagined something like that had happened. His brow furrowed as guilt washed over him. ‘No wonder she was angry.’
"Young Master, I suggest you comfort your wife. She's in the early stages of pregnancy and doesn't need emotional strain right now," Mrs. Hartwell said, bowing slightly before leaving.
Roman rubbed his temples and hissed as if feeling a headache coming on. He stared at their closed bedroom door and decided he needed to make amends by returning the favor.
He went downstairs and dismissed all the house staff, including those in the kitchen, saying he needed personal space with his wife. They obeyed immediately.
Roman entered the kitchen, tied on an apron, and began preparing breakfast for his wife to ease her mood.
\---
When Evelyn came downstairs, she was greeted by an appetizing aroma—different from the usual bland "pregnancy-safe" breakfast she normally received.
What shocked her more was finding the enormous mansion completely empty. Normally, staff members were everywhere—cleaning, working, or standing by waiting for her to finish meals. Her stomach grumbled as the delicious smell continued to assault her senses. Driven by curiosity and hunger, she made her way to the kitchen.
What she saw at the entrance completely stunned her. Roman Sinclair stood in the kitchen wearing casual clothes with an apron tied around his waist, cooking like a professional chef. The scene looked surreal.
Sensing her stare, Roman turned in her direction and smiled warmly. He turned off the stove, approached her, and gently led her to a chair he'd prepared in the kitchen. He arranged the dishes on the kitchen island for both of them. Seeing her just staring at the food without speaking, he ruffled her hair affectionately.
"Eat before it gets cold."
Breaking from her trance, she blurted out her racing thoughts. "Why are we having breakfast in the kitchen? Where is everyone? Did something happen? Why are you cooking? Why—"
Roman immediately placed a piece of bacon in her mouth. "Eat."
Evelyn wanted to continue questioning him, but the flavor exploded on her tongue. The bacon was incredibly delicious. She forgot whatever she'd planned to say and began devouring the meal eagerly.
Seeing her genuine enjoyment, Roman smiled and added more food to her plate.
Evelyn paused from eating and looked up at him. "Why are you the one cooking?"
Roman smiled genuinely. "Because I wanted to cook for my wife."
Evelyn cleared her throat. "And everyone else?"
"Dismissed."
"Why? And why are we having breakfast here in the kitchen?"
Seeing her wide eyes filled with questions, Roman couldn't stop smiling. "Why dismissed? Because I wanted to spend time alone with my wife."
Hearing him say something so intimate, Evelyn shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
Roman continued, "The reason for breakfast in the kitchen? It reminds me of my school days abroad. I had the habit of eating in the kitchen since I lived alone, and I wanted to share that memory with you." He took her hands, staring deeply into her eyes as if he could see straight through to her soul.
Seeing his genuine smile and the slight dimples that made him even more handsome when he smiled, she quickly looked away and removed her hands from his.
Roman froze slightly at the rejection.
To break the awkwardness, Evelyn laughed nervously, looking down at her food. "The food is delicious. I didn't know you could cook."
"Of course you do."
"Hmm? Pardon?"
"I learned to cook early since I had to travel abroad and live independently."
This time, Evelyn raised her head and stared directly at Roman. Who would believe that the mighty Roman Sinclair, the most beloved son of the patriarch, could handle such basic tasks—and had cooked specifically for her? Who would believe that?
Every moment she spent with him, he only seemed to become more attractive and mysterious.
Without thinking, she blurted out the question that had tormented her all night: "Roman, who is Avery?"