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Chapter 8 Chapter Eight

  • Lilith’s Pov
  • I didn’t even know when I hugged Nolan like that. It just happened.
  • My emotions had taken over. One second, I was drowning in my own tears, and the next, I was wrapped around him like a lost child finally being seen.
  • And then I heard a voice. Cold and sharp.
  • “What the hell are you doing with my fiancé?”
  • I jumped back like I had touched fire.
  • My arms dropped to my sides. My heart slammed in my chest. I turned to the voice.
  • She was beautiful. Dressed to perfection. Nails sharp enough to cut glass.
  • I stammered. “Um... I didn’t mean to. I’m so sorry.”
  • She walked closer, eyes moving from me to Nolan like she was calculating something dangerous.
  • “What is happening here?” she asked, her voice tight.
  • Then she turned to Nolan.
  • “Nolan, why was she hugging you like that?”
  • Nolan opened his mouth, probably to explain, but I panicked.
  • “No! Don’t blame him,” I said quickly. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I was just... overwhelmed. He did something kind for me, and I—I just reacted.”
  • I swallowed hard.
  • “I’m sorry. I just ran to him and hugged him. I didn’t even think. This is not what it looks like. I swear it’s not.”
  • Her arms were crossed over her chest. She didn’t look convinced.
  • “So what did he do that made you cling to my fiancé like that?”
  • Her tone cut deeper than her words.
  • I blinked fast. “You’re getting it wrong. I didn’t mean to. You don’t understand what I—”
  • “Zoey. That’s enough.”
  • Her name was Zoey.
  • He took her wrist.
  • "Let's go," Nolan said.
  • Zoey frowned but followed.
  • "You still have to tell me what you did for her," she said as they walked.
  • Nolan didn’t look back. "It’s not necessary."
  • And just like that, they disappeared inside.
  • My heart wouldn’t stop racing.
  • What the hell just happened?
  • I hadn’t even been here a month. And already, it was drama after drama.
  • Now I had a woman accusing me of stealing her fiancé.
  • And honestly? It was my fault.
  • I shouldn't have hugged him like that. I let my emotions get the best of me. I knew better.
  • I shook my head, still smiling at how ridiculous the moment had been.
  • Then I picked up my phone.
  • I placed an order to have my stuff brought over.
  • I also ordered some new art materials: canvases, brushes, and colors. Everything I’d need.
  • I needed something that felt like me. Something to calm my soul.
  • After that, I went inside.
  • I didn’t feel like walking around anymore.
  • So I curled up on the bed, watched a few reels, then opened one of my novels.
  • My body felt tired. My chest still bubbled with leftover stress.
  • I’d walk around tomorrow. Maybe.
  • Then, suddenly, I heard a soft knock, and the door opened.
  • It was Rose and some other man I didn’t recognize.
  • "Excuse me, there’s a package for you. Where should we bring it?"
  • I sat up. "It’s already here?"
  • I smiled. "Please bring it all into this room."
  • They did. Carefully.
  • My instruments, boxes, and painting tools were laid down in neat stacks.
  • "Thank you," I said, and paid them for their help.
  • Then I turned to Rose.
  • "Could you help me take some of this to the garden? I want to paint out there."
  • She smiled. "Of course. That would be nice."
  • Together, we carried everything out.
  • She even brought me a small stool to sit on.
  • "Oh my God, thank you so much. That was so thoughtful of you."
  • She just smiled and nodded.
  • Once everything was set, I sat down.
  • Took a deep breath.
  • And I started painting.
  • My mind cleared with every stroke.
  • I forgot the tension. Forget the embarrassment.
  • I was finally in my own world.
  • Then I heard a voice.
  • "Hey, are you painting?"
  • I turned.
  • It was Zoey.
  • She looked a little unsure.
  • I nodded. "Yeah, I am."
  • The silence between us stretched.
  • It was awkward after everything that happened earlier.
  • Then she asked, "Can I sit with you?"
  • I paused for a second.
  • "Yes. You can sit by the swing."
  • "Okay," she said softly and walked over.
  • *****
  • It was awkward at first.
  • We both stayed quiet.
  • The silence made it hard for me to focus.
  • My brush didn’t feel right in my hand. I kept messing up simple strokes.
  • Then she spoke.
  • "I hope I’m not disturbing you."
  • I looked up. "No, you’re not disturbing."
  • She smiled a little. "I was just bored inside and decided to come out."
  • I chuckled. "How can you be bored when your fiancé is with you?"
  • She sighed. "The fiancé that looks like I’m forcing myself on him?"
  • She laughed a little at her own words.
  • I didn’t know whether to laugh or just stay quiet.
  • She caught my hesitation. "It’s okay, you can laugh. Everybody knows I’m trying to force myself on Nolan."
  • I smiled politely.
  • In my head, I was thinking, why does everyone keep telling me things I didn’t ask?
  • I didn’t even know what to say next.
  • Still, I tried. "I’m sure he’ll come back very soon. You’re a beautiful woman. I doubt he’ll resist you for long."
  • She looked at me, hopeful. "I hope so too."
  • Then she asked, "Can I ask you something?"
  • I nodded. "Yeah. You can."
  • "How’s your marriage with Killian?" she asked.
  • "He’s always been the mysterious one among the brothers. Nolan is wise and cold, but not as cold as Killian."
  • "I’m not sure I want to talk about that," I said softly.
  • She leaned back on the swing.
  • "You can talk about anything with me. I come here and stay lonely most of the time."
  • "We can be friends."
  • I raised a brow. "Are you sure you want to be friends with me after what happened?"
  • She gave a soft smile. "I misunderstood you. And I’m sorry. Let’s just be friends."
  • I nodded. "Okay. Friends."
  • "You can come talk to me anytime, okay?" she said.
  • "Yeah. And you can talk to me too."
  • Just as we were starting to relax, someone’s voice tore through the air.
  • "Who asked you to paint here?"
  • I jumped up.
  • Killian.
  • "Why the hell did you bring paint into my house?"
  • I stood, startled. "I’m so sorry. It was your brother that told me to—"
  • "My brother tell you to paint? And you painted after I told you not to paint?"
  • I tried to explain. My words stumbled out.
  • Then, Nolan stepped in.
  • "Killian, I was the one who asked her to paint."