34.Its complicated!
The tension between them lingered for the next two days — heavy, silent, and unspoken.
Neither made an effort to fix it.
At work, Eva kept herself buried in rounds and paperwork, while Neil barely acknowledged her beyond curt instructions.
And when evening came, instead of going back to the Neil's apartment, she drove to her old home.
Grandparents were surprised but too happy to question it much.
She would smiled faintly and answered. “I just… missed being here, that’s all. Neil’s been busy with work lately, so I thought I’d stay for a bit.”
It was a clean lie — the kind she didn’t like telling but had no better words to cover the truth.
From the other side of the room, Ria folded her arms, raising an unimpressed brow.
“Oh yeah? Busy with work,” she muttered, shooting Eva a knowing look. “More like you’re busy avoiding someone.”
Eva pretended not to hear her, helping Granny set the dinner table. But she could feel Ria’s stare drilling into her the whole time — full of sass, judgment, and a hint of sisterly concern.
Ria finally whispered as they sat down to eat, “You’re such a bad liar, Eve. If you keep making excuses like that, even Granny will figure it out.”
Eva rolled her eyes, but a small smile escaped her lips. “Just… drop it, Ria.”
“Fine,” Ria said, leaning back with a smirk. “But you can’t hide at Walter home forever. You’ll have to face Dr. Machine soon.”
"We will see!" Eva responded abruptly.
The house was unusually quiet that night.
Too quiet.
He stood in the living room for a long minute, staring at the faint flicker of the TV that nobody had turned off. Her blanket was still draped on the couch, the mug she used for coffee sitting-empty on the table — like pieces of her she’d forgotten to take with her.
He rubbed the back of his neck, exhaling sharply. Why the hell am I even noticing these things?
Walking into the kitchen, he paused near the small plants on the windowsill.
Her plants.
They looked dry — unwatered, not cared enough ,which meant she’d been not coming home just long enough to check on them.
He brushed a leaf between his fingers, and her voice echoed faintly in his head, “Don’t overwater them, Doctor.
They’re sensitive.”
A small smile tugged at his lips before he caught himself and stepped back to water all the plants.
He leaned against the counter, pulling out his phone. Her name was right there at the top of his messages — Eva.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
“Where are you?”
“Are you coming home?”
“You shouldn’t stay out so late.”
He typed, erased, re-typed. Every line sounded wrong — too soft, too revealing.
Finally, he locked the phone with a sigh. Forget it, Neil.
A few minutes later, the phone buzzed again.
He turned it around lazily, expecting a hospital update — but the name flashing on the screen froze him.
“Ria Walter.”
And below it — a single message:
Need help. I have a plan!
Neil raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-worried.
“help?” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple. “A Walter with a plan… this can’t end peacefully.”
Still, despite himself, he opened the message.
A smirk formed in his face.
The clatter of plates and the warm smell of Chinese cuisine filled the air.
Granny laughed at something Ria said, the air easy and homey — until a sharp knock echoed through the hallway.
“I’ll get it!” Ria chirped, hopping off her chair.
The moment the door opened, her grin widened. “Well, well… look who decided to grace us with his presence.”
There he was — Dr. Neil Morris, standing in his crisp white shirt and dark formal trousers, sleeves neatly folded, that calm authority radiating off him.
He looked like every grandmother’s favorite and every woman’s heartbreak rolled into one.
“Looking good, Dr. Neil,” Ria teased, crossing her arms.
He smiled — that quiet, knowing smile — and gave her a polite nod. “Thank you, Ria.”
Eva froze at the sound of his name. Her spoon hung mid-air, her heart suddenly aware of every beat.
Granny’s eyes lit up. “Oh my! Dear, what a surprise! Come in, come in!”
Neil stepped inside, his gaze finally meeting Eva’s.
That soft, unreadable look in his eyes made her pulse skip.
He cleared his throat, voice steady yet carrying a warmth that made her blink twice.
“I’m here to take Eva back home,” he said, eyes still on her. “I’m free from work now and… more importantly—” his tone softened just a touch, “I was missing her.”
The air stilled.
Granny smiled ear to ear. “How sweet! Such a loving husband.”
But Eva knew better — every word was laced with that quiet challenge only she could read.
Her jaw tightened, cheeks flushed.
Ria’s grin spread wickedly wide. This was going better than expected.
Neil looked around the table, then added casually, “Actually, I was hoping to invite you all for dinner tomorrow night. My treat. It’s been a while since I met everyone properly.”
Granny clapped her hands in delight. “We’d love that, son!”
Ria winked. “Oh, we’re definitely coming.”
Eva, still silent, could only manage a faint nod.
Neil’s smirk deepened — just enough for her to catch it — before he turned to Granny again, perfectly polite.
“Then it’s settled,” he said smoothly. “Tomorrow, dinner at seven.”
The dinner wound down with laughter and the clink of cutlery. Conversation floated lazily around the table — light, familial, the kind of evening that made the Walter house feel like a warm bubble.
Neil checked his watch and stood. “It’s getting late. I think we should head out, right, Eva?”
Eva choked on her sip of water, startled by the directness. “W-what?” she managed, heat rushing to her face.
Ria’s fork paused mid-air. “You okay, Eve?” she asked, eyes sharp with concern.
Eva swallowed and nodded too quickly, cheeks burning. “I’m fine.”
Outside, under the soft porch light, the car waited. Neil opened the rear door like a proper gentleman.
Before Neil shut the door, Ria leaned toward Eva and gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up. Neil caught her movement and returned the favor with a slow, deliberate wink.
Eva watched it happen and leapt up on instinct. “Ria, I will kill you!” she hissed, equal parts mortified and amused.
Ria snorted, shrugging. “Worth it.”
Neil’s head turned just enough. “You said something?” he asked, dry as ever.
Eva’s face flushed a deeper red. She made a tiny shake-no with her hand. “Nope. Nothing.”
Neil’s lips twitched — amusement, or something like it — then he closed the door with a polite, “Okay. Bye. See you all tomorrow.”
“Bye!” Granny chimed, waving.
Grandpa firmly spoke " She really found herself a nice man. Neil is an amazing husband."
Granny replying "They really are a cute couple.God bless them"
"Sure" Ria smiled as her plan worked.
The door clicks open.
Eva steps in first, taking a deep breath.
Neil (lightly):
Welcome home, Mrs. Morris.
Eva (turns, frowning):
What is this supposed to be?
Neil (shrugs, unbothered):
What? I was just—
Eva (cuts in, sharp):
You don’t get it, do you? This is a fake marriage, Neil. You don’t have to keep impressing my grandparents.
Neil (steps closer, voice calm but edged):
Why?
Eva (confused):
What do you mean why?
You know the other side of the story, Neil, don't you? You wanted this marriage for your family's sake.And I needed help to bring my sister out of that trouble and that's it.
Neil (softly, almost hurt):
I know… but-
Eva (cuts him off, voice shaking with frustration):
And Callum’s out of prison now, so what’s the point of me staying with you?
Neil doesn’t answer, just looks at her — unreadable.
Eva (angrier, her eyes glinting):
And why do you even care if I go back home or not?
She takes a step back, creating space between them.
Eva (voice breaking, quieter but bitter):
And from now on… stop being favorable to me at the hospital.
Neil’s brows knit.
Eva (continuing):
People already think I sleep with you to get opportunities— not because I’ve earned them.
He stepped back slightly, watching her retreat, her words still echoing in his ears. She… she’s harsh. Brutally harsh.
For a moment, he tried to reconcile the image in his mind — sweet, innocent, bright-eyed Eva.
No where seen now.
She’s sharp. Unyielding. And she’s directing all of it at him.
A bitter twist coiled in his chest. He’d never imagined she could be like this — a storm contained in a small frame, aimed directly at him.
He didn'texpect her to see through so clearly. To call out like this. And yet… part of him can’t stop wanting her to stay, to speak, to even glance at his way. Even when she’s mad at him.
He clenched his fists, jaw tight. Pride told him to retreat, to ignore it, but every fiber of him wanted to reach out, to explain, to fix it. But how? She’s made it clear… she doesn’t want his explanations.
Eva Walter… why do you have to be so infuriating?
EVA (walking toward the door, calm but firm):
“I am sorry if you feel bad for this. I am just being realistic. This is our future.we have different paths”
Her words hung in the air like a challenge. Neil stood frozen for a heartbeat, her voice still echoing in his chest. Our future…with different paths.The phrase hit harder than he expected — a reminder of the contract, the obligations, and the lies that masked what he actually wanted.
He paced the room slowly, hands running through his hair. His mind replayed her sharp gaze, the way she had folded her arms, the firmness in her tone. He wanted to yell, to argue, to pull her back — but he didn’t.
And yet… he couldn’t shake the ache in his chest.
___
Eva woke up early, still feeling the lingering weight of yesterday.
She slipped out of her room, craving her morning coffee, and grabbed her favorite cup.
Stepping onto the balcony, she glanced at the plants—freshly watered.
A small smile tugged at her lips. So he did this…
The rarest, most genuine smile of Neil’s appeared in her mind, and her heart skipped.
She sighed, thinking of how harsh she had been yesterday. She had no choice, she reminded herself. Her eyes flicked toward his room—he hadn’t woken up yet.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Eva walked to the door, curious.
“Ryle?” she asked, surprised.
“Hi, sister-in-law!” he grinned, stepping in confidently with a bouquet of flowers.
Eva’s eyes widened. “Oh my God… what’s the occasion?”
Ryle waved the flowers playfully. “Umm… where’s Neil?”
“In his room,” she replied cautiously.
Ryle’s grin softened. “It’s a special day—Mom’s birthday. Every year we go to the cemetery to pay our respects.”
Eva’s chest tightened, emotions stirring
Her heart cracked a little at Ryle’s words. His mom’s birthday.
Something inside her just… ached.
“Wait, I’ll wake him up,” she said quickly before Ryle could move.
She poured his favorite black coffee—the way he liked it, strong, no sugar—and walked toward his room. Her fingers tightened around the mug.
The door creaked softly as she pushed it open.
There he was.
Neil Morris.
Fast asleep, lying on his side, one arm half-hanging off the bed. The morning light slid gently across his face, softening the sharp lines she had always seen hardened at work. He looked… peaceful. So unlike the man who commanded an entire OT with his words.
She took a quiet step closer, placing the cup on his bedside table. For a moment, she just stood there—watching him breathe, the rise and fall of his chest steady and sure.
Her gaze drifted to the small frown that appeared even in sleep.
She smiled faintly. “You don’t even rest properly, do you?” she whispered under her breath.
And then her chest tightened again. Because no matter how angry, cold, or arrogant he seemed—there was always this side of him. The quiet one. The real one. The one she could never hate, even if she tried.
Neil stirred, his lashes flickering open.
The first thing he saw wasn’t the sunlight—
It was her.
“I—uh, Ryle’s here,” she managed, stepping back quickly. “I brought your coffee. We… we’re going to your mom’s grave, right?”
Neil sat up slowly, eyes still fixed on her. There was a softness in them.
Neil’s voice broke the silence, low and guarded.
“You don’t have to do all this,” he said without meeting her eyes. “No need to visit if you don’t want to.”
The words were calm, but the weight behind them was impossible to miss.
Eva froze, her throat tightening.
He wasn’t just angry—but hurt.
“I didn’t say I don’t want to,” she whispered, her voice softer than she intended.
He didn’t respond.
Didn’t even touch the cup.
Just brushed past her, headed straight into the washroom.
The door clicked shut behind her, and she exhaled, feeling that tight ache return in her chest.
He was hurt — she could tell.
The car ride had been silent — thick with words left unsaid.
By the time they reached the cemetery, the morning mist had started to lift, revealing rows of quiet gravestones bathed in golden light.
Neil stepped out first, his expression unreadable, followed by Ryle and Eva. The path was lined with wildflowers, the faint scent of lilies lingering in the cool air.
They reached his mother’s grave — simple yet graceful, adorned with fresh petels. Neil knelt down, setting a bouquet of white lilies beside it, the same kind she’d loved.
Ryle stood beside him, lighting a small candle.
The air was heavy, still.
Until the sound of another car pulling up broke the silence.
Eva turned — and froze.
From the sleek black car emerged Callum, his posture composed yet cautious.
Beside him, Cynthia stepped out, dressed in a soft pastel dress, her eyes glistening with emotion. And then, slowly, Mr. Morris — the father — followed.
Neil rose to his feet. For a moment, no one spoke. The years of distance, the weight of grief, and the sting of old wounds hung thick between them.
Cynthia was the first to move. She walked to the grave and knelt beside it, her trembling fingers tracing the carved name.
“She’d be happy… seeing us all here together again,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Mr. Morris didn’t speak — just placed his hand gently on Neil’s shoulder.
It was brief, awkward even, but it meant something.
Eva stood quietly beside Ryle, watching the scene unfold. She saw the way Neil’s jaw tensed and softened all at once — the boy beneath the armor flickering for just a heartbeat.
She stepped closer, placing her own bouquet — pink tulips — next to his lilies.
“She liked tulips,” he murmured.
Eva nodded softly. “Ryle told me. I… thought she’d like to have them again.”
Eva stayed a little behind while the others talked softly, her gaze drawn to Neil.
He stood a few steps away, staring at the gravestone — his shoulders tense, his breathing quiet but uneven.
And then she saw it — the shimmer at the corner of his eye.
A tear he didn’t let fall.
It hit her harder than she expected. The man who carried the weight of precision, control, and cold professionalism… looked heartbreakingly human in that moment.
Without thinking, Eva moved closer — slow, careful, like approaching something fragile.
Her fingers brushed against his hand, gently resting over it, a silent offer of comfort.
“Neil…” she whispered, her voice barely there, “it’s okay.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t move.
Then, suddenly, he pulled his hand back — moving a little.
No one else noticed — not Ryle, not Callum, not even Cynthia.
But Eva did.He doesn't want her to console.
She saw the flicker of pain in his eyes, the way he struggled to swallow it down before anyone could see.
Her heart clenched, yet she said nothing.
Because sometimes, silence spoke louder than comfort ever could.
---
Callum wanted everyone to gather at the Morris estate for dinner, but Neil refused. He quietly got into the car, his silence filling the air heavier than the evening fog.
Back at the apartment, Neil went straight to his room, shutting the door behind him without a word.
Ryle stood awkwardly by the couch, loosening his tie.
“I’ll get going,” he said, grabbing his keys.
Eva, who was taking off her coat, stopped him.
“Stay for dinner,” she said softly. “Ria and my grandparents are coming over.”
That caught his attention. His lips twitched into a smile, eyes flickering with interest on mention of someone's name.
“If you insist and for delicious food, yeah I will” he played it cool.
___
A soft knock echoed through the room.
Eva turned the knob gently. The room was dim, curtains half-drawn, the air heavy with quiet sorrow. Neil sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his palms. The sound of his breath faltering every few seconds made her chest tighten.
She stepped closer, careful, like approaching something fragile.
“Neil…” she whispered again.
No response. Not even a flinch.
Her eyes softened. The coffee mug she had brought morning was still on the table untouched. She knelt in front of him, lowering herself until she was level with him. Slowly, she reached up — her fingertips brushing his face.
“Neil?” Eva’s voice was barely above a whisper.
He didn’t answer.
He resisted for a second. But then, almost unknowingly, his fingers loosened.
Eva cupped his face in her palms — his skin cold, eyes red and glassy, his jaw clenched as if holding back the whole world inside him.
“Hey…” she said softly, voice trembling. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hold it in.”
Neil didn’t look at her at first. But when she wiped the tear sliding down his cheek with her thumb, his gaze finally lifted — and the rawness in his eyes made her heart shatter.
She didn’t say another word. Just moved closer, until her forehead touched his.
Then, quietly, she wrapped her arms around him.
At first, he froze — his hands hung midair, unsure whether to return the hug or retreat back into silence.
But as she held him tighter, her hand moving up and down his back slowly, he gave in.
His arms came around her shoulders, hesitantly, then firmly — clutching her like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.
“It’s okay,” Eva murmured again, her voice low and steady against his ear. “I’m here, Neil. Just… let it out.”
“Should we… order something for dinner?” she asked softly, her tone deliberately lighter.
Neil shook his head. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, but there was purpose in it.
“No… it’s their first time here. Let’s cook."
" Together?” Eva quired.
He nodded.
Eva’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “Okay,” she said simply, her fingers still resting lightly on his arm — a silent promise that she wasn’t going anywhere.
Eva shifted slightly, brushing the last of his tears away with her thumb.
“Let’s go,” she whispered after a long silence, her voice calm but uncertain.
She started to get up, but before she could move away, his hand reached out — fingers curling around her wrist.
“Don’t,” Neil said quietly. His tone wasn’t commanding, just… broken. “Stay.”