Chapter 10
The door rattled under three sharp knocks.
I tensed immediately.
No one visited at this hour unannounced.
My stomach dropped when I pulled it open.
Eleanor stood there, lips pressed thin.
William loomed beside her, cold and imposing.
My blood ran cold.
Alexander’s mother.
And his father.
Eleanor’s eyes flashed.
“You,” she spat. “What are you doing here?”
I lifted my chin.
“I live here.”
She laughed, harsh and mocking.
“You? In Sebastian’s house? Don’t be absurd.”
Footsteps approached down the hall.
The butler appeared, stern-faced.
Sebastian trailed behind, dragging his stuffed bear.
The butler’s voice cut through the tension.
“Lady Eleanor. Master William. You will address Mrs. Rachel with respect. She is the lady of this house.”
Eleanor’s face twisted.
“Lady?” She turned to William. “Is this a joke?”
The butler didn’t blink.
“It is not.”
William’s gaze swept over Sebastian, then settled on me.
Calm. Calculating.
“You married him,” he stated. “Without telling us.”
Sebastian ignored them, focused on a toy soldier.
Oblivious. Unbothered.
Eleanor smirked.
“What? Afraid Daddy wouldn’t approve?”
William almost smiled.
“Why would I disapprove?” His eyes lingered on me. “You’re a perfect match.”
My nails dug into my palms.
That was no compliment.
Eleanor’s smirk widened.
“Oh, I see. Alexander broke your heart, so you settled for a lunatic?” She gestured at Sebastian. “Pathetic.”
Rage burned through me.
I stepped in front of Sebastian, shielding him.
“Don’t speak about my husband that way.”
“Husband?” She laughed. “How long until Alexander finds out? He’ll—”
“I don’t care about Alexander.”
Eleanor’s laughter echoed. William shook his head, amused.
Enough.
I pointed to the door.
“Leave. Now.”
The butler stiffened. Eleanor’s laughter died.
“You’re throwing us out?”
“Yes. Both of you.”
I turned before she could respond.
My heart hammered.
They left with muttered insults, but I didn’t care.
No one humiliates Sebastian in his own home.
That night, I replayed their words as I tucked him into bed.
He lay still, eyes on the ceiling.
I brushed hair from his forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He blinked, tilting his head toward me.
Then he giggled, soft and airy.
I sighed.
“I’m sorry for what they say. How they treat you.”
He didn’t respond.
Maybe he didn’t understand.
His breathing slowed as he fell asleep, toy still clutched in his hand.
I watched him, chest aching.
Exhaustion eventually pulled me under.
I woke at midnight.
The bed was empty.
Cold.
I sat up, disoriented.
Where was he?
A faint noise came from the bathroom.
I slipped out of bed, padding toward the sound.
Pushed the door open slowly.
And froze.
Sebastian was standing.
Not sitting. Not crawling.
Standing.
Upright. Steady.
My heart stopped.
He shouldn’t be able to do that.
“Sebastian?” My voice was a whisper.
He turned his head slightly.
Glanced over his shoulder.
Eyes clear. Focused.
“Shit,” he muttered.
My breath caught.
Everything I thought I knew—shattered in an instant.