Forbidden Passion
Chapter 44 Mary refused

"It's late. We should get back," Theodore said.

They walked back along the path, Vanessa sidling up close to him, creating an intimacy between them. "How are you settling in since you've been back?" Theodore inquired.

"Yeah," Vanessa glanced sideways at him. The sparse moonlight draped over him, casting a silvery glow.

"It's just that since the day I fell into the water, I can't sleep well at night, I'm constantly waking up from nightmares."

Theodore commented, "That's a normal reaction humans have after experiencing a traumatic event. If it gets worse, I suggest you see a therapist."

"A therapist?" Vanessa gaped at him, incredulous. "I'm not that bad off. It might just be because my window faces the pool, and that keeps me up."

"Theodore," Vanessa halted, prompting him to stop as well. She looked up at him, "I'm a bit scared. Can you wait until I fall asleep before you leave?" Theodore, expressionless, nodded in agreement.

Vanessa could hardly contain her elation. Despite Phoebe's vigilance, Theodore had still wandered into her room, and Vanessa couldn't wait to see if Phoebe could maintain her facade the next day.

In the dead of night, Theodore returned to his room. After a refreshing shower, he lingered by his bed before he wandered into the adjoining sitting room.

In the darkness, Phoebe's eyes slowly opened.

The sounds from the sitting room ceased soon after, but Phoebe was certain Theodore hadn't left the house.

A heavy weight settled in her chest, and sleep eluded her for a long time. Eventually, she sat up, grabbed the tablet from her nightstand, and continued watching a reality show in the dark. The pale light illuminated her petite face, creating a mottled tapestry of shadows. She kept watching until dawn.

After a night spent staring at the screen, Phoebe's eyes were sore. Post-rinse, the mirror reflected her red-rimmed eyes, betraying a night of sleeplessness.

She emerged with a fresh, light makeup that concealed her exhaustion. Passing through the sitting room, she noticed Theodore curled up on the couch, seemingly too tall for the space, his legs akimbo. Without lingering, she left the room.

Just then, a door across the hall swung open, as if the person had been lying in wait just behind it. When Vanessa saw it was Phoebe, her face fleetingly fell, then quickly contorted into smugness.

She toyed with the towel in her hand, her tone suggestive, "Theodore left his towel in my room last night. I came to return it."

Phoebe recognized the familiar towel, indeed one of Theodore's, and clenched her jaw before responding, "I'll take it to him."

As she reached out, Vanessa retracted the towel. "Miss Ziegler, aren't you curious about what happened between Theodore and me in my room last night?"

Phoebe's expression remained unchanged. "No matter what you did, he ended up back with me, didn't he?"

Vanessa was momentarily choked up, only to hear Phoebe continue, "Miss Fitzroy, surely being born into a distinguished family you'd hesitate before chasing a married man. Wouldn't you fear your ancestors turning in their graves for tarnishing the family reputation?"

Vanessa's face twisted in anger. "You!"

Phoebe took a step closer. "I didn't want to say it, but Miss Fitzroy, what's the point of your provocations? The right to initiate a divorce has never been in my hands."