Chapter 211
Nick’s gaze locked onto George.
Cold.
Unyielding.
The pressure in his eyes was enough to make the atmosphere in the room tighten instantly.
“What did you say?”
George’s expression darkened.
Anger surfaced almost immediately.
Nick had never been a child who openly defied him. Even when disagreements arose, he had always maintained restraint—especially in front of elders, and especially in front of someone newly brought into the family like Khloe.
But now…
He had spoken like that.
For her.
Khloe’s heart tightened.
“Nick…” she called softly, her voice carrying a faint tremor.
She didn’t want this.
She didn’t want him clashing with his father because of her.
But Nick didn’t look at her.
He exhaled slowly, as if forcing himself to remain calm.
“I’ll handle my own matters.”
His tone was steady again.
Controlled.
Detached.
“You don’t need to worry.”
He tightened his grip on Khloe’s hand.
“It’s late. We’re leaving.”
Without waiting for a response, Nick turned and walked away.
Taking her with him.
“Nick!”
George’s voice rang out sharply behind them.
But Nick didn’t stop.
Not even once.
Khloe hesitated, instinctively wanting to look back, but Nick pulled her closer, pressing her gently yet firmly against his side so she could only see his chest, his shoulder, his steady presence.
Behind them, chaos stirred.
Loretta immediately signaled to Arista, who stepped forward to calm George.
“Alright, alright,” Arista said softly, holding his arm. “It’s just the children’s matters. You’ve already said enough.”
George’s anger only intensified.
“Just the children’s matters?”
His voice rose.
“You think marriage gives him the right to act however he pleases?”
Then, sharper still—
“And that woman—Khloe—she’s nothing but trouble!”
He yanked his arm free and stormed toward the study, leaving the rest of the family behind in tense silence.
Outside the villa, night air wrapped around them.
The car door closed with a quiet thud.
Khloe finally exhaled.
Her brows knitted slightly as she turned to Nick.
“Your father cares about you,” she said carefully. “Wasn’t it a bit much to just leave like that?”
Nick stared ahead for a moment before answering.
“He doesn’t care about me.”
His voice was calm.
Almost too calm.
“He only cares about what he believes is right.”
A faint pause.
“Khloe, you don’t need to take his words seriously.”
He glanced at her briefly.
“In this family, you only need to get along with Grandpa and Grandma.”
Khloe studied his profile.
There was no anger in his tone anymore.
But something quieter lingered beneath it.
Something like distance.
Or loneliness.
She didn’t press further.
Instead, she gently patted his arm.
On the way home, Khloe called Loretta.
Her voice was soft and apologetic as she thanked her and also apologized on Nick’s behalf.
Loretta, however, only laughed warmly on the other end.
“Don’t overthink it,” she said. “George has always been like that—stubborn and sharp-tongued. He doesn’t hold grudges.”
Only then did Khloe relax slightly.
By the time they returned home, the tension from the night seemed to finally loosen.
Nick removed his coat and leaned back slightly, exhaling.
Only then did Khloe notice it.
He hadn’t eaten much at the banquet.
Not after everything that had happened.
And now, despite the late hour, he looked genuinely hungry.
Before he could say anything, Khloe had already slipped out of his arms and changed into comfortable clothes.
Then she headed straight into the kitchen.
Nick followed her.
“What are you doing?”
Khloe glanced over her shoulder with a small smile.
“What does it look like? I’m making you noodles.”
She rolled up her sleeves.
“Don’t underestimate it. It’s just noodles, but mine are better than anything at that banquet.”
A hint of teasing warmth returned to her voice, easing the lingering tension.
Nick watched her for a moment.
Then stepped forward.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind.
Firm.
Quiet.
Not saying a word.
His breath brushed lightly against her neck.
Khloe stiffened slightly.
“Nick… go take a shower. I’ll be done soon.”
He didn’t move.
Instead, after a long pause, he spoke in a low voice.
“Khloe.”
A beat.
“Will you stay with me forever?”
The question was sudden.
Almost fragile beneath its calm surface.
Khloe blinked.
Then let out a soft breath, half amused, half helpless.
“What kind of question is that?”
She tilted her head slightly.
“We’re married. If I don’t stay with you, where would I even go?”
Her tone was light.
Teasing.
But reassuring.
Nick’s grip softened immediately.
As if something inside him had finally settled.
He lowered his head and rested it lightly against her shoulder.
“…Good.”
The word was quiet.
But it carried weight.
Khloe didn’t push him away.
Instead, she let him stay there while she continued cooking.
It wasn’t the easiest task—with a tall man holding her from behind like a stubborn child—but she didn’t complain.
Not tonight.
Because she understood something now.
Nick’s strength wasn’t the only thing he carried.
He carried insecurity, too.
Just like her.
Maybe… even more than her.
So she allowed it.
Let him lean on her, even if only for a while.
Soon, a simple bowl of noodles was ready—hot broth, vegetables, and thin slices of meat.
Nothing extravagant.
But the aroma filled the kitchen warmly.
They sat together and ate.
Nick finished every last drop of broth.