Chapter 51 Her thoughts
Chapter 51 Her thoughts
“Do we have a guest?” Liora asked softly.
Her voice was gentle, but there was a quiet alertness beneath it. The unfamiliar presence in the house had immediately set her nerves on edge. Ever since marrying into the Blackwood family, she had learned to recognize subtle shifts in atmosphere, the faint tension in the air when someone arrived unannounced, the way silence could stretch just a little too long.
Before Dominic could introduce her, the woman stepped forward on her own, heels clicking crisply against the marble floor her posture was elegant, self-assured, almost territorial.
“My name is Dr Rachel,” she said smoothly. “I’m Dominic’s personal doctor. How should I address you?”
Her tone was polite, but there was a faint coolness behind the smile, the kind that never quite reached the eyes.
Liora met her gaze calmly. “My name is Liora. I’m his wife nice to meet you, Doctor Rachel.”
Her expression remained composed, but something inside her tightened and she could sense it, the hostility.
It wasn’t obvious no sharp words, no outright rudeness but it was there, subtle and unmistakable, like a thin blade hidden inside velvet. Liora might not be especially perceptive in matters of romance, but she had spent her entire life learning how to read disdain. The Hale family had taught her that skill well. Years of cold dinners, dismissive glances, and polite cruelty had sharpened her instincts and Rachel’s gaze carried that same faint edge.
“Nice to meet you too, Ms Hale,” Rachel replied not Mrs Blackwood.
The omission was small, almost invisible but she noticed.
Before she could respond, Rachel had already moved closer to Dominic and began guiding his wheelchair forward with practiced familiarity without waiting for Liora, she pushed him inside.
Liora stood there for a second longer than she meant to but she followed them silently.
“You’re still frail,” Rachel’s voice drifted through the hall, laced with disapproval. “How could you carry so many groceries on your legs? And supermarkets are full of bacteria, of all the times to go out, you chose the hottest hour of the day. Why can’t you take your health more seriously?”
Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was intimate in a way that made Liora’s chest tighten loke she had the right to scold him but Dominic didn’t respond.
He simply allowed himself to be wheeled forward, his expression unreadable but when they reached the living room, he suddenly seemed to notice something.
He glanced behind him and Liora hadn’t entered yet. “Liora?” he called.
The single word broke whatever fragile stillness had formed and she immediately walked in, quickening her steps as if she had been waiting for permission to follow.“Yes, dear?” she answered.
A light sheen of sweat glistened along her temples, the afternoon heat still clung to her skin despite the cool air indoors. She had rushed after them, and the slight exertion showed.
Dominic’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded handkerchief, lifting it toward her face with quiet familiarity his movements were slow but deliberate, as though every small gesture carried weight.
He gently dabbed the sweat from her forehead. “Are you feeling warm?” he asked.
His voice was low, steady, she blinked in surprise. “No, I’m fine. I just sweat easily.”
Then, instinctively, her attention shifted back to him. “What about you? Should I get you some water?”
She didn’t wait for an answerwith Dominic’s health or rather, the version of it everyone believed she always assumed he needed more care than she did.
She quickly poured a glass of water and handed it to him.
Dominic accepted it and took a slow sip, his movements were measured and controlled. After a moment, instead of placing the cup down, he extended it toward her and she froze.
“It’s okay,” she said instinctively, startled by the gesture, sharing a cup felt oddly intimate, especially in front of a stranger but Dominic didn’t withdraw his hand.
He simply waited, yhere was quiet insistence in his gaze but uder that unwavering look, Liora had no choice but to take the cup. Her fingers brushed his as she accepted it, and the contact sent a faint warmth through her chest.
She finished the water in small sips, acutely aware of Rachel’s presence.
When she lowered the cup, Dominic reached for his handkerchief again.
Before she could react, he gently wiped the corner of her lips, the gesture was natural, almost absentminded but unbearably intimate.
Liora’s breath caught slightly.
Across from them, Rachel watched the entire exchange in silence, the shared cup, the quiet care and effortless closeness.
Something flickered in her eyes sharp and fleeting before vanishing completely. When she spoke again, her voice had returned to its usual calm professionalism.
“You must be thirsty too, Dr Rachel,” Liora said politely, extending another glass of water toward her.
No matter what she felt, she would not forget her manners and she was the mistress of this house now. That role came with expectations.
Rachel smiled faintly. “Thank you.”
But she didn’t take the cup.
Instead, she shifted her attention back to Dominic. “When do we start your treatment?” she asked.
Her tone was all business now, crisp and clinical, as if the earlier moment had never existed. “Now,” Dominic replied.
There was something deliberate in the way he said it, as though he had already decided.
“I have something to discuss with you,” he added quietly. “Let’s go to my study.”
Rachel nodded immediately, stepping behind him once more and turning the wheelchair toward the corridor.
They left without hesitation and without looking back.
Liora stood there, fingers still loosely curled around the untouched glass of water meant for Rachel.
She wanted to say something ro protest.
To remind them that she should be present too and that as Dominic’s wife, she had the right to know about his treatment, to stand beside him but the words never left her lips.
By the time she gathered herself, they were already gone and the house fell quiet again.
A faint ache spread through her chest, subtle but persistent.
For a moment, she simply stood there in the middle of the living room, surrounded by expensive silence.
Then she inhaled slowly and straightened her posture. I’m the mistress of this house, she reminded herself firmly.
The thought steadied her, no matter how unfamiliar this world felt, no matter how often she felt like an outsider within these walls, this was her responsibility now.
It was her duty to uphold the dignity of the Blackwood household, to welcome guests properly, maintain composure and never let cracks show, even if her heart felt strangely hollow.
Even if, for reasons she didn’t fully understand, the image of Rachel pushing Dominic away lingered in her mind far longer than it should have.