Chapter 96 Last day

Chapter 96 Feelings
Mara's Pov

"A headache doesn't make a woman lock herself in her room for hours," he countered, stepping forward so I had to either retreat or let him in. I retreated. He walked into the room, his gaze scanning my face, noting the redness of my eyes despite my best efforts to hide it. "You haven't eaten since yesterday morning. You skipped dinner. You skipped breakfast. What is going on?"

"Nothing is going on," I said, walking toward my vanity to pick up my bag "As you can see, I'm ready for work. And besides, I’m just not hungry. It happens sometimes."

"Not to you," he said. He watched me in the mirror. "I’ll tell the maids to bring up a tray. Something light for you to eat."

"I told you, I'm not hungry," I snapped, but my voice wasn't harsh. "I don't want a tray. I don't want to eat. I'm late for work."

"You can't run a company on an empty stomach."

"Then I won't run the company today," I said, turning to face him. "I will stay back if that's what you want. I just want to be left alone."

He didn't move. He stood his ground, his jaw set in that stubborn Lawson line. "I’m not leaving until you eat something. If you won't take a tray from the maids, then you’re coming downstairs with me."

"Oh please—"

"I’m not asking," he cuts in, his tone shifting from concerned to commanding. “You want this the hard way, don't you?"

I looked at him, his eyes and words carried every seriousness in them. I realized then that I couldn't escape him. He would hover and persist until I gave him what he wanted. I sighed in frustration. "Fine. I’ll eat."

We went downstairs to the kitchen. The house was quiet, the staff busy in other wings. I expected him to call for Margaret or one of the cooks, but he walked straight to the oversized refrigerator.

I said nothing to him, and only watched him. He pulled out a carton of eggs, a loaf of artisanal bread, and a bag of coffee beans. I sat on the stool, my hands on the table, watching him.

The sound of the whisk against the glass filled the silence. Then the hiss of the butter in the pan. The smell of toasting bread began to fill the air.

I didn't want to speak to him today, but he was being kind again. The type that have to get me to change my mind.

My mind began to spiral as I watched his back. Every time he turned to check the coffee machine or flip the toast, I felt a pang of guilt that felt like a physical weight in my throat. I loved him. I had spent months holding back those three words, wanting to scream them from the rooftop of the mansion.

But as the coffee began to drip, the thoughts I had last night came back, cold and clear.

This won't work out. Our relationship was forbidden and didn't feel right.

He was a Lawson. Every time I looked at him, I saw Philip’s face. Every time I think about this relationship, I wondered if there was a flicker of hope in us. I am still a married woman, and we shouldn't be doing all this. To live freely—to truly be Mara again—I needed to be away from all of them. I needed to end this.

I opened my mouth wanting to say it. To tell him that we should stop whatever this was before it went any further. But the words died in my throat. I wasn't ready for the heartbreak. For the pain I'd feel. I wasn't ready to see the look on his face when I told him he wasn't enough to keep me here. Oh God.

"Eat," Elias said, sliding a plate in front of me.

The eggs were light and fluffy, the toast perfectly golden. He placed a steaming cup of coffee next to the plate and sat down across from me. He didn't ask more questions. He just watched me eat, his eyes never leaving my face.

I ate in silence, the food tasting like ash in my mouth despite how well it was prepared. When I reached for the coffee, I felt it spill slightly by the side of my lips.

Before I could reach for a napkin, Elias leaned across the table, his thumb warm and slightly rough as he traced the curve of my lip, wiping away the spill.

My heart skipped a beat. I felt my feet curl up inside my shoes, a familiar, electric heat spreading through my chest.

"Better," he whispered, his thumb lingering for a second too long on my skin before he pulled back.

I looked down at my empty plate, my face hardening. I couldn't let him do this. I couldn't let his kindness be the cage that kept me here.

"Thank you" I muttered, my voice tight.

The car ride to the company was silent. I stared out the window, watching the city blur past, feeling a strange sense of pity for the man sitting next to me. He was really trying. More than Philip did. But all I needed right now is space.

As the car pulled into the circular drive of the Lawson building, I saw a commotion near the main entrance. Two security guards were struggling with a man in a suit, holding him back from the revolving doors like he wasn't allowed to enter the company.

Elias slowed the car to a halt. As we stepped out of the car, I noticed he was David.

His hair was a mess, and his eyes were wild as they darted toward our footsteps. The moment he spotted me, his expression transformed. The anger and desperation melted away into a look of pure, agonizing longing.

I knew exactly why he was here. He was here to beg. He was here to tell me he was sorry. He was here to mend what isn’t amendable.

I stood my ground, my face holding a cold look to him. I didn't feel pity for David. I didn't feel anger. I felt nothing at all.

"Mara," David called out to reach towards me.