Chapter 22 This Man Is Unbelievable! #2
‘Why am I here again?’ she thought bitterly. ‘I won’t be any man's second choice. Especially not one who’s in love with someone else.’ Her chest ached at the thought. ‘How long do I have to stay? And why is he bringing me here? How many days do I have left before I can leave?’
Tears stung the corners of her eyes.
Lorenzo noticed her silence and crossed the room, dropping down beside her on the bed. His brows drew together the moment he caught the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low as his fingers gently cupped her face. “Why are you crying?”
But the moment his skin touched hers, Krystal flinched. She pulled his hand off her face and shook her head. “I’m fine,” she whispered.
Lorenzo didn’t move, his brows drawn together in a deep frown. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, voice softer this time. “If you don’t want the divorce… we don’t have to go through with it.”
Her response was instant. “No. We are getting divorced,” she snapped, turning away. “This is personal. It has nothing to do with you. I’m upset about something else.”
She tossed the tablet aside and slid under the duvet, turning her back to him.
After a moment, she pulled it down just enough to glare at him. “Sleep on the couch. Not the bed.”
He scowled at her, but she ignored it, turning away and falling asleep soon after.
An hour passed. Her breathing had grown deep and steady, and the room was wrapped in silence.
Lorenzo glanced at the couch, then at the bed. Without a sound, he walked over, lifted the duvet, and slid in beside her.
Her face was turned toward him, peaceful in sleep.
He lay still, watching her in the moonlight. His gaze softened. There was something about seeing her like this—vulnerable, peaceful—that made his chest tighten. Even after two years together, she still made his heartbeat slow down and speed up all at once.
His fingers twitched, trembling slightly as he fought the urge to touch her. ‘This woman drives me crazy... and yet, she’s the only peace I’ve got.’
Unable to help himself, he slowly slid a hand under her neck, lifting her just enough to pull her into his arms. She shifted in her sleep, settling against him.
He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer until her head rested under his chin. Her arms unconsciously curled around his chest.
His hand slid beneath her nightshirt, resting on the soft, warm skin of her waist. He held her there, snug against him, breathing in the scent of her hair.
For the first time in months, sleep came to him easily.
***
The next morning, Krystal sat across from him at the breakfast table, glaring like she wanted to stab him with her fork.
Lorenzo raised a brow innocently. “What? And why are you sitting all the way over there? Grandpa’s going to figure out we’re having problems in two seconds.”
Krystal stabbed her fork into a piece of broccoli like it had personally offended her.
He stood, pushed his chair back, and walked over to her. Without asking, he pulled her chair closer until it bumped against his.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed, grabbing the chair to move it back.
He held it in place with one hand, barely using any strength.
“I told you to stay close. If Grandpa sees us sitting apart, he won’t believe we’re still in love,” Lorenzo said casually, already focused on his food.
Krystal huffed, clearly defeated, and sat stiffly in her chair.
Her shoulders sagged in defeat. She sank into the chair with a huff.
He grinned, reaching across the table, engulfing her hand in his.
She narrowed her eyes, twisting her wrist.
“Lorenzo,” she muttered through clenched teeth. “Don’t push it. You’re already crossing lines.”
He leaned closer, the corners of his lips twitching. “Let’s practice. Grandpa will be here any second. If we look distant, he won’t believe we’re still a loving couple.”
Before she could curse him out, the sound of footsteps echoed down the stairs.
Grayson entered the room, smiling warmly when he saw them sitting close and whispering. “See? I knew there was nothing wrong between you two.”
He walked to the table. “It’s good to see you both getting along. You're not getting a divorce, are you?”
Krystal and Lorenzo glanced at each other, then back at Grayson.
He kept going, unaware of the tension. “I’ve been hearing all kinds of rumors. It had me worried sick.”
Lorenzo wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Of course not. Who told you that nonsense? I have a very good relationship with Krystal.”
Krystal kicked him under the table. Hard.
Lorenzo winced, looking at her in disbelief. She gave him a fake, sweet smile before turning back to Grayson.
“You’re here early, Grandpa,” she said, gesturing to the food. “Come eat with us.”
Grayson sat down, clearly pleased.
Lorenzo served him a plate, then looked over at Krystal and casually added more to her plate. “Here,” he said, sliding the plate toward her.
“I’m fine,” she muttered, pushing the plate back.
“You call that fine?” he said, frowning. “You haven’t even eaten properly.”
He picked up a slice of apple, leaned back in his chair, and held it up to her lips. “Eat this,” he said with a smile.
Krystal shot him a glare, her teeth grinding in pure annoyance. But even then he didn't even flinch.
He just glanced back at Grayson and said casually, “See? Even Grandpa’s worried that you’ve gotten thinner.”
Krystal inhaled sharply, frustrated. Forcing a stiff smile on her face, she opened her mouth to reply, but Lorenzo beat her to it—he shoved an apple slice between her lips. She bit it instinctively, chewing as he popped the rest of it into his own mouth without breaking eye contact.
She stared at him, stunned. ‘You really are something,’ she thought, disbelief curling in her chest. ‘An Oscar-worthy performance in front of Grandpa? You throw me out like garbage one day and now act like some saint?’ A dry, bitter laugh escaped her lips.
‘If you love acting that much, go ahead—I’ll make sure you act until it kills you! ’
Smiling sweetly, she picked up a bunch of diced capsicums from the dish. No one knew better than her—someone who’d cooked three meals a day for this man that he hated capsicum. But she scooped up a spoonful and held it out to him.
“Here,” she said lovingly.
Lorenzo paused, jaw tightening, but opened his mouth and took the bite. He chewed silently, a forced smile on his lips. The second the capsicum hit his tongue, his face twisted like he’d been stabbed in the gut.
Krystal almost lost it, biting her lip to keep from laughing as his eyes watered and he fought through the taste. She had to turn away, shoulders shaking. It was so damn satisfying.
Grayson, oblivious to the tension simmering between them, looked between them proudly. “See? Love changes everything. Lorenzo used to hate capsicum so much, but now he’s eating it by the spoonful like it’s his favorite dish.”
Lorenzo glanced at Krystal with a faint, affectionate smile and said smoothly, “If it’s from Krystal’s hands, I’ll eat anything.”
Krystal blinked hard, suppressing the gag rising in her throat. ‘This man is unbelievable!’
By evening, things went from awkward to absurd.
After dinner, Krystal found her bedroom door locked from the outside.
With Lorenzo inside, already lying on her bed.