Evelyn stood frozen at the foot of the marble staircase, her fingers curling tightly around the strap of her purse. She hadn't expected to find anyone home, let alone the matriarch of the Lancaster family herself. The last time she saw Marianne Lancaster was on her wedding day—her eyes cold, lips pressed into a line of disapproval as Evelyn walked down the aisle toward a son who never even looked up.
Now, those same eyes were fixed on her again.
"You came back," Marianne said, voice sharp like the edge of a blade. "I suppose I should be surprised. But I'm not."
Evelyn straightened her shoulders, not out of defiance, but sheer instinct. She had grown up surviving on pride alone. "I'm only here to talk to Damien."
Marianne raised a single brow, descending the last step with the grace of royalty. "Is that so? Funny. I would think a woman who disappeared without a trace for three years would have a bit more to say. Especially to his mother."
Evelyn bit her tongue. She could feel the weight of the past press against her ribs, but now was not the time to unpack it.
"I'm not here to argue with you," she said, steadying her voice. "I just need to speak to him. Once I do, I'll be gone."
Marianne smirked. "And what exactly do you intend to tell him? That you've suddenly remembered you have a husband? That you regret leaving without signing the divorce papers? Or is it something else?" She crossed her arms, her eyes scanning Evelyn like a hawk sizing up its prey. "You're here for the company, aren't you?"
Evelyn blinked. "What?"
"Don't act naïve," Marianne said coolly. "Damien may pretend he doesn't care anymore, but I know better. And you showing up now—right when he's on the verge of securing the Japan merger—it's more than coincidence. What do you want, Evelyn? Money? A slice of the company you abandoned?"
A bitter laugh escaped Evelyn before she could stop it. "I didn't even know about the merger until last night. I'm not here for Lancaster Enterprises."
"Then why are you here?"
The question echoed around them like thunder. Evelyn looked down, the silence stretching unbearably long before she finally answered.
"I'm here because he never signed the papers," she said quietly. "And because despite everything, I owe him an explanation. One I never gave."
Marianne studied her, the calculating glint in her eyes softening just a fraction. But then she turned, walking toward the sunlit drawing room.
"Come," she said curtly. "Let's not stand in the hallway like commoners."
Evelyn followed warily, her heels clicking against the polished floors. The drawing room was the same as she remembered—grand, elegant, cold. Just like the woman who ruled it.
Marianne sat in a high-backed chair by the window and gestured for Evelyn to take the seat opposite.
"I will be honest," Marianne began. "I never approved of you. You were nothing more than a rushed decision, a distraction for a son who'd lost himself in grief and business. I didn't know you, and I didn't care to. But you were chosen by my husband—may he rest in peace—and so I tolerated it."
Evelyn said nothing. What could she say? Everything Marianne said, she had already believed about herself at one point.
"I gave you a chance," Marianne continued. "You failed. You ran. But here's what you don't know—Damien was never the same after you left."
Evelyn's heart clenched.
"He buried himself in work, hardened in ways I never thought possible. He doesn't trust people anymore. Not even me. And yet..." Marianne's gaze darkened. "He still hasn't signed those damn papers."
Evelyn nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know."
"Then hear me clearly," Marianne said, voice icy. "If you're here to confuse him again—to dredge up feelings he has spent years trying to kill—then leave. Now. Before I make sure you can never come near him again."
"I'm not here to confuse him," Evelyn said, lifting her chin. "I'm here to make things right."
Marianne tilted her head. "And what would that look like? You walking back into his life like nothing happened?"
"No," Evelyn said. "Just... letting him choose. For once."
A long silence stretched between them. Marianne's fingers tapped against her teacup, then stilled.
"If you hurt him again," she said lowly, "I will destroy you. I don't care who you are now or what sympathy you think you deserve. I protected Damien when you disappeared, and I'll protect him again."
Evelyn nodded. "I understand."
A knock interrupted the tension. A butler stepped in. "Madam, Mr. Damien just arrived."
Evelyn's breath caught.
Marianne's eyes narrowed. "You'll speak to him here. But remember what I said."
Evelyn stood, brushing invisible wrinkles from her dress as Damien entered.
He looked like sin wrapped in a tailored suit. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression unreadable as he stepped inside and spotted her.
For a moment, time stopped.
"Evelyn," he said, voice low.
She turned to face him fully. "Damien."
Marianne stood. "I'll leave you two. But don't forget what I said, Evelyn."
With that, she swept out of the room.
Damien and Evelyn stood in silence, the past stretching taut between them.
"I didn't expect to see you here," he said finally.
"I needed to talk to you," she replied.
He gestured to the couch. "Then talk."
Evelyn sat down slowly, folding her hands in her lap.
"I came to tell you why I left."
Damien didn't sit. He remained standing, arms crossed. "It's been three years. Why now?"
"Because I finally have the courage to say it," she said. "Back then, I was drowning. In guilt. In fear. I wasn't strong enough to be your wife, Damien. You were grieving your father, fighting battles I didn't understand. And I—I didn't know how to stand beside you without feeling invisible."
His expression didn't change. But his hands clenched.
"I didn't leave because I stopped caring," she continued. "I left because I thought I was the problem. That maybe if I was gone, you'd finally heal. But all I did was run from the truth."
Damien's jaw tightened. "And what truth is that?"
"That I loved you," she whispered. "Even when I thought I didn't. Even when I hated myself for marrying you out of obligation instead of love."
Silence fell between them again.
Damien finally sat, but didn't look at her.
"I waited for a year," he said. "After you left. I kept expecting a call. A message. Something. You gave me nothing."
"I know," Evelyn whispered. "And I was wrong."
"Damn right, you were."
She nodded. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. Just a chance to be honest. That's all."
Damien's eyes locked with hers, stormy and unreadable. "Why now, Evelyn?"
"Because I'm tired of running," she said. "And because I can't move on without hearing from you whether this... whatever was left between us... is really over."
He leaned back, voice quiet. "You really think I can answer that now?"
She exhaled slowly. "I don't know. But I had to try."
Their eyes met. And in that moment, everything unsaid hung between them—years of silence, pain, and longing.
"Then let me be honest with you," Damien said. "I haven't signed those papers because I don't know what I want. Not yet. But if you're here to play games, to stir things up and leave again—don't."
Evelyn shook her head. "No games. Just truth."
"Then stay," he said after a pause. "Not forever. Just... long enough to finish what we started."
She blinked. "You want me to stay here?"
"Yes. Until we figure this out. One way or another."
Evelyn hesitated.
And then nodded.
"Okay."