Chapter 215 Hated Her for Five Years
After the incident with Baxter, Evie was in a bad mood for the rest of the day.
“He must be tracking me!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with concern.
“It’s okay. I haven’t done anything wrong,” Athena reassured her with a calm smile.
“But he knows you’re pregnant. I’m still worried,” Evie said, frowning with unease.
Athena placed a hand on her friend’s arm, a gentle reminder of the strength she had. “Sweetheart, just relax a little.”
Evie gave her an exaggerated look. “Don’t call me sweetheart. Last time, when you called me that at the manor, Byron glared at me so fiercely I thought he was going to burn a hole through me. It was terrifying!”
Athena couldn’t help but laugh at Evie’s dramatic retelling.
Evie stayed with Athena until they reached the apartment, taking the opportunity to take a quick look around.
“I used to worry you wouldn’t eat properly or have a good place to stay,” Evie remarked, strolling around with a mix of playful complaints and visible satisfaction. “But this place is great!”
Once she finished her quick tour, she took out her iPad and began sketching. “I’ll plan everything for tomorrow’s setup,” she said, her voice full of enthusiasm.
Evie was always the romantic one. She moved around the space, mentally arranging each corner, from the entrance to the small bedroom study.
“When the baby crib arrives, we’ll put it right here!” she said, beaming with excitement.
“I want to put the little shoes and clothes inside,” Athena added.
“Perfect!” Evie clapped her hands, her joy palpable. “I’ll make sure everything’s ready.”
After a moment, Evie stood up. “I have to go back and prepare some props. I’ll come back once he leaves tomorrow. Sound good?”
“Okay, thank you so much for all of this,” Athena replied, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
Evie waved her off as she headed for the door. “It’s nothing. Let me give the little baby a kiss before I go!” She crouched down and kissed Athena’s belly, even through the thick fabric of her clothes. “Bye for now!”
Athena laughed and cried at the same time, feeling a mix of emotions. Evie’s departure was quick, like a gust of wind, leaving the apartment quieter in her absence.
Athena sank onto the sofa, her phone buzzing. It was a message from Byron.
Darling, I have some things to handle tonight. Don’t wait up for dinner.
Okay. Athena replied.
She stared at the screen for a moment, then put her phone down. A small part of her felt uneasy about the silence.
Byron rubbed his forehead, feeling the weight of the evening’s responsibilities. He sat there for a few moments before grabbing his car keys and heading out of the office.
Half an hour later, he pulled up to Freya’s house.
“Byron, you made it!” Freya greeted him, wearing an apron. She looked better than before, though there was still a slight weariness in her eyes.
Byron raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you say you weren’t feeling well?”
Freya shrugged, sticking out her tongue mischievously. “I lied. You took care of me all day yesterday, so I wanted to thank you. I cooked a meal for you myself!”
Just then, Seraphina appeared, clearly about to leave. “I told her to take you out to eat, but she insisted on doing this herself. Look at her now—she injured three fingers!” Seraphina pulled Freya’s hand from behind her, revealing the bandages on her fingers.
Freya quickly retracted her hand, not wanting Byron to see the injury.
“It’s fine, come on in,” Freya urged him, clearly eager for him to enter.
Byron hesitated, his gaze lingering on the blood-stained bandages, but he stepped inside anyway.
Seraphina shot Freya a quick glance before leaving them alone.
The table was full of food, but nothing looked particularly exquisite. The dishes lacked the finesse Athena’s cooking always had.
Byron glanced at Freya, who was now fidgeting nervously. He couldn’t help but notice that she had never cooked like this before.
“It doesn’t look great, but Seraphina said it tastes okay,” Freya said quickly, trying to ease the tension.
“Okay,” Byron replied, sitting down.
“Freya,” he said, his tone softening, “You don’t have to do all this.”
Freya looked at him, her eyes filled with affection. “I wanted to do it for you. This is something I should’ve done for you many years ago.”
Her words hit Byron harder than he expected. The past—so full of unspoken feelings—rushed back to him. When he first met Freya, he was young and naïve. He hadn’t understood why he felt such a deep connection with her, assuming it was love at first sight.
He had pursued her relentlessly, almost obsessively. They had been together, briefly, until an accident had forced their relationship into a painful separation.
After everything that happened, Freya had married someone else, and Byron was left heartbroken and angry.
Now, sitting here with Freya, the pain resurfaced. She had once been the one he loved most, but also the one who had betrayed him at his most vulnerable.
Five years of resentment had built up—resentment that had never truly gone away, even after Freya’s fall from grace.