XXXVII

The dawn brought with it the weight of exhaustion, but not the relief Grace so desperately needed. She hadn't slept. Every time she closed her eyes, Marcus's face and his voice confessing what he had kept hidden for years haunted her relentlessly. The shadows under her eyes were not just from a sleepless night but from the emotional turmoil she didn't know how to manage. She felt worn out, yet alert, as if the slightest movement could make her crumble.

When she arrived at the classroom, the children greeted her with their usual enthusiasm, though that morning she could only muster a weak smile. The events of the previous night still weighed heavily on her. She tried to begin the lesson, but the words seemed trapped in her throat. The physical and mental fatigue made it impossible to follow the usual routine.

" Take your books and read silently, " she ordered, her voice barely sounding like her own.

The children exchanged surprised glances. It wasn't like Grace to make them work in silence. She always encouraged participation, urging them to share whatever thoughts came to mind. But today, she wasn't the teacher they knew. The echo of Marcus's words still throbbed in her mind.

As the children read, the tension inside Grace grew. She knew she was acting differently, but she couldn't help it. Her mind kept circling back to Marcus's confession. " I love you, Grace, " he had said. A bitter laugh welled up inside her. How easy it was to say that now, after everything that had happened. It was almost insulting. Love? How could he even mention that word after he had shattered her life? The irony of the situation overwhelmed her.

But it wasn't just anger that gnawed at her. There was something deeper. There had been a sincerity in Marcus's words that unsettled her. She couldn't deny the remorse she had seen in his eyes, nor ignore the anguish in his voice. Part of her wanted to believe him, and that terrified her more than anything.

The children continued reading in silence, occasionally glancing up at her, sensing that something wasn't right. But how could they possibly understand what was going through her mind? How could they comprehend the whirlwind of emotions tearing her apart inside? The memories of her life with Marcus hit her over and over again. The abduction, the accusations, the days spent together, the surrender to passion, the tears when she was away from him, the heartbreak when she realized he wouldn't come for her... It was all still fresh, despite the years. And yet, his confession had left her with no answers.

" We'll end the class here today, " she said, breaking the silence. She couldn't continue. The classroom, which had always been a place of joy for her, now felt suffocating.

The children gathered their things in silence, confused by their teacher's behavior. When the last one left the room, Grace let out a sigh of relief, though the solitude brought no comfort.

Back at home, she sank into one of the chairs in the dining room. Exhaustion enveloped her, but it was more emotional than physical, a torment that wouldn't let her rest. She couldn't stop Marcus's words from echoing in her mind. Despite everything he had done to her, there was a small part of her that wished what he had said was true. But how could she allow herself to trust him again? How could she even think about giving him a chance?

The sound of the door pulled her from her thoughts. Robert came running in, smiling, radiating the innocent joy he always carried with him.

" Mama, we won the race today! " he shouted excitedly, his grin wide.

Grace tried to smile back, but she could barely manage it. Every time she looked at her son, she saw Marcus in him. That thought tore at her. " How can I protect you, Robert? How can I protect you from the truth that's coming? " Fear gripped her. She was terrified that when Robert learned everything about his father, he wouldn't be able to handle it. And even more, she feared what that discovery might do to his heart.

Thankfully, Robert went to his room, and the house once again fell into silence—silence that had once been her ally, but now felt unbearable. Grace closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm of thoughts that wouldn't leave her alone. " I came back because I love you, " those words continued to disturb her, and no matter how much she tried to ignore them, the weight of their meaning pressed down on her.

Another bitter laugh crossed her mind. Of course, it all comes down to " I love you " now. How could he believe that just saying those words would change everything? How could he be so arrogant as to think that his love was enough to fix what he had broken? The thought enraged her. But what scared her most was that part of her wanted to believe it was possible. And that made her feel weaker than ever.

Marcus stood motionless by the window, his eyes fixed on the path that led to Grace's house. From there, he could see her returning from the school, her steps slow and heavy with a fatigue he recognized all too well. An enormous distance separated them, deeper than the glass that divided them. It was as if the chasm between them had widened even more after the previous night.

He pressed his forehead against the cold glass, seeking in vain for some kind of comfort. The tears began to flow again, silent and relentless. He hadn't cried in years, but now he felt overwhelmed by emotions. His eyes remained fixed on the door of Grace's home, and each time he caught a glimpse of her, the despair swelled inside him. Despite her physical closeness, she felt farther away than when he had lived in London.

With trembling hands, he pulled out the lilac handkerchief he had kept for so long. There was no reason to hide it anymore. There was no mask that could protect him from the truth. He clutched the handkerchief, pressed it to his face, and wept again. But his crying stopped abruptly when he heard the sound of stumbling footsteps.

Holloway entered the room, and his appearance said it all. His skin was pale, his eyes swollen and red, surrounded by dark circles. His unkempt stubble matched the disheveled hair that seemed to have surrendered to the chaos of the previous night. Every step he took reflected the weight of alcohol, and the slight tremor in his hands betrayed the lingering effects of a poorly hidden hangover. Despite his attempt to maintain composure, the signs of fatigue and traces of bitterness were impossible to conceal.

"Milord..." he mumbled in a slurred voice, "I apologize for waking so late."

Marcus looked at him, noticing not only the disorder in his young butler but also the burden of guilt that had been chasing him since the night before. It wasn't his fault. Marcus had repeated this to him a thousand times over drinks, but the young man insisted on apologizing.

"There's nothing to apologize for, Holloway," Marcus said wearily. His gaze returned to the window, once again watching Grace's home across the street. "Yesterday was a difficult day."

Simon nodded, though his expression showed that Marcus's words didn't bring him any comfort. He took another step toward his master, guilt and desperation etched on his face.

"Has she said anything else, milord?" he asked cautiously, casting a sideways glance at the window. He knew the situation between Marcus and Grace was still precarious.

Westlin shook his head, feeling the hope he had kept alive for so long slowly fading.

"She still believes I came here to take her back to London," Marcus said softly. "And after learning about Robert, she's convinced it was all a lie, an invention... that I created Lord Haspirin just to take her son away from her."

"That's madness! She has to know the truth, milord! We need to explain everything to her!" Simon exclaimed with a fervor that surprised even Marcus.

The marquis looked at his young butler, momentarily admiring his loyalty and courage. Simon was determined to fix everything, but in that moment, Westlin knew that things couldn't be resolved so easily.

"I know. But she's not ready to listen to me," he replied, his voice weakening as if the energy to keep fighting was slowly draining from him. "She doesn't trust me, and after everything I've done, I can't blame her for that."

But the young butler wasn't ready to give up. In his mind, everything needed to be fixed, and the sooner, the better.

"I can't just stand by and do nothing!" Simon declared, full of determination. "I'm going to talk to her, milord! She has to hear me!"

"No!" Marcus shouted, trying to stop his loyal butler. He knew this wasn't the sensible way to handle things, and feared Simon's intervention might only make matters worse.

But Holloway had already made up his mind. Before Marcus could reach him, the young man had opened the door, letting a gust of cold air sweep into the room.

Marcus watched as Simon rushed toward Grace's house, powerless to stop him. He closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed by the situation. He knew what was about to happen was inevitable, but that offered him no comfort at all.