StartNovelAthena—though everyone called her Anna now—sat quietly on the sofa, herposure so placid it was almost infuriating.
Tyler lost his patience, pushing her down onto the cushions. “The only tyou ever listen is in bed,” he muttered bitterly.
Athena didn’t struggle. Instead, the faintest trace of a mocking smile touched her lips, as if to say: Is this all you've got?
Wounded, Tyler's pride cracked. He pulled away abruptly, standing up as if to say something, but the words caught in his throat.
The delicate pastries he'd brought crashed to the floor, crumbling into a mess of broken crumbs and icing. The coffee table was
knocked sideways, and Tyler's frustration boiled over. lan had told him this bakery made the best desserts in town—he’d thought
maybe, just maybe, he could win her over with them. But why was it so impossible to please her?
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAthena's heart, he realized in a flash, was made of stone.
Without another word, Tyler strode out the door. The heavy sound of his shoes on the hardwood made it clear: he wouldn't be
Only after he'd gone did the housekeeper finally dare to emerge from the shadows, tiptoeing in to tidy up the chaos. As she swept
up the ruined pastries and righted the coffee table, she spoke gently to Athena.
“Ms. Zade, Tyler really does care about you. Maybe... if you tried to meet him halfway, things wouldn't hurt so much. For you, |
mean.”
Faint bruises were already blooming on Athena's jaw—clear proof of how tightly Tyler had gripped her.
But Athena seemed unconcerned, merely thanking the housekeeper before heading out. She had somewhere else to be—her old
high school, far on the other side of Greenfield. She drove herself.
When she stood at Lindsay's front door, Athena felt oddly detached, as if the shadows of old memories had sharpened instead of
faded.
She drew a long breath, then knocked.
Lindsay was the one with the odd birthmark on her thigh—a cluster of tiny red spots, like a spray of petals. Athena remembered
seeing it years ago, the night she'd stayed over by accident. Lindsay had called it a birthmark. It was such a peculiar thing that
Athena never ot.
She had to knock several times before someone finally opened the door.
The woman standing before her looked haggard, with streaks of white already threading her hair by her temples. Athena's eyes
widened—Lindsay was actually a year younger, so how had she aged so quickly?
“Lindsay?”
Lindsay blinked up at her, as if it took a moment to process who was standing there. Then, a tired smile. “Athena. It's been years.
You're still as beautiful as ever.”
She ushered Athena into the living room, where five children—boys and girls—were sprawled on the worn sofa. Most of them were
cute enough, but the youngest seemed slow, sitting apart and staring at nothing.
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