Chapter 20: Chapter 20
Lane could still feel the embarrassment from earlier burning inside her chest long after Ethan disappeared into the bathroom.
The memory alone made her want to hide beneath the blankets forever.
How had she ended up wrapped around him like that?
And worst of all—Ethan had been awake.
Actually awake.Watching her. Lane buried her face briefly into her hands the moment the bathroom door shut.
Pregnancy had completely ruined the way she slept lately.
She tossed around constantly.Needed warmth. Needed comfort.
And somehow during the night her sleeping body had apparently decided Ethan was both of those things.
Which was horrifying.
Especially because Ethan already seemed irritated by her existence most days.
Lane slowly exhaled before forcing herself to calm down.
It was fine.
He hadn’t said anything.
Maybe he would just ignore it like everything else between them.
A few minutes later, Ethan stepped out of the bathroom already dressed in dark trousers and a black button-up shirt, his damp hair slightly messy from the shower.
Lane instinctively looked away the moment he emerged.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too quiet.
Ethan picked up his phone from the bedside table before glancing toward her briefly.
"I need to make a call."
Lane nodded immediately.
"Okay."
Without another word, Ethan walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Lane released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Then immediately hurried toward the bathroom before he came back.
The warm water relaxed her slightly, though her thoughts still kept replaying the morning over and over.
His expression when she woke up.
The silence.
The way he simply stared at her.
Lane shut her eyes tightly beneath the water.
Why was she even overthinking this so much?
Ethan probably found her annoying if anything.
Eventually she finished showering quickly before dressing into comfortable clothes and tying her hair back loosely.
Then she quietly left the room before Ethan returned.
The mansion downstairs was already awake.
Soft morning light spilled across the large windows while the scent of coffee and breakfast drifted faintly from the kitchen.
Lane slowly walked down the staircase and immediately spotted Catherine sitting comfortably in the dining area already dressed elegantly for the morning.
The older woman looked up instantly and smiled warmly.
"Good morning."
Lane smiled softly.
"Morning, Aunt Catherine."
"You’re awake early."
Lane moved toward the kitchen quietly.
"I couldn’t really sleep properly."
Which was true.
Though not entirely because of pregnancy this time.
One of the maids immediately handed her a glass of cold milk the moment she entered the kitchen.
Lane smiled gratefully.
Lately milk in the morning had somehow become one of the few things her stomach accepted peacefully.
Fortunately today—
No nausea.
No dizziness.
No sudden urge to throw up.
That alone already felt like a victory.
Lane slowly sipped the milk while leaning lightly against the kitchen counter.
Then Catherine’s voice suddenly came from behind her.
"Are you preparing breakfast for Ethan?"
Lane froze slightly.
The question immediately pulled painful memories back into her chest.
The breakfast she once woke up early to make for him.
The lunch she carefully packed.
And the way Ethan instructed the maid to throw it away right in front of her.
Even now remembering it still hurt embarrassingly deeply.
Lane lowered her eyes toward the milk glass in her hands.
Still—
She nodded softly.
"Yes."
Catherine studied her quietly for a moment before smiling lightly.
"Good."
Lane moved slowly around the kitchen afterward while preparing breakfast carefully.
Eggs.
Toast.
Coffee.
Simple things.
Nothing complicated.
Her movements remained quiet and practiced while the maids occasionally helped beside her.
And despite herself—
Lane still found herself paying attention to the tiny details Ethan liked.
Less sugar in the coffee.
Food not overly oily.
Toast lightly crisped.
The realization almost frustrated her.
Because no matter how cold Ethan remained toward her, some part of her heart still instinctively cared for him.
Still wanted him comfortable.
Still noticed everything.
Once breakfast was finished, Catherine sat at the dining table while watching Lane prepare another container quietly nearby.
"A packed lunch too?" Catherine asked.
Lane nodded lightly without looking up.
"He usually leaves early."
The words came softly.
Calmly.
Like this routine was normal.
But Catherine’s expression shifted subtly again while observing her.
Because there was something deeply lonely about the way Lane spoke regarding Ethan.
Like someone describing habits instead of a relationship.
Lane finished packing the lunch carefully before placing it beside the dining table.
Then finally she sat down quietly across from Catherine with her own breakfast.
The older woman looked at her for a long moment.
"You really care for him."
Lane’s fingers tightened slightly around her spoon.
For a second she didn’t answer.
Then quietly—
"He’s my husband."
The answer sounded simple.
But somehow painfully honest too.
Catherine looked away slowly afterward.
Like she suddenly understood far more than Lane intended to reveal.
A while later, footsteps echoed softly from upstairs.
Lane immediately stiffened slightly.
Ethan.
He descended the staircase calmly already prepared for work, his dark coat hanging over one arm while his expression remained unreadable as always.
Lane lowered her gaze instinctively the moment he approached.
Somehow after this morning, even looking directly at him felt difficult.
Catherine smiled immediately.
"There you are."
Ethan nodded once before walking toward the dining table.
Then his eyes landed briefly on the breakfast arranged there.
And finally—
On Lane.
Only for a second.
But Lane still felt her heartbeat stumble awkwardly.
Catherine gestured toward the food proudly.
"Lane made breakfast."
Lane’s fingers tightened softly together beneath the table.
Because suddenly she remembered the last time Ethan knew she cooked for him.
The humiliation returned immediately.
For a second she almost expected him to refuse eating altogether.
Or worse—
Walk away.
But Ethan simply sat down quietly.
The silence at the table felt strangely heavy afterward.
Lane kept her eyes lowered toward her own plate while Ethan drank coffee across from her calmly.
Then Catherine spoke again.
"She also packed lunch for you."
Lane nearly stopped breathing.
Her stomach tightened instantly.
Because suddenly she regretted it completely.
What if he rejected it again?
Especially in front of Catherine this time.
Lane wished the conversation would end immediately.
But instead Catherine smiled warmly toward her.
"Lane, give it to him."
Lane slowly reached for the packed lunch container beside her.
For a brief second she hesitated.
Then quietly stood and walked toward Ethan.
Her heartbeat grew painfully loud with every step.
Ethan looked up slightly when she stopped beside him.
Lane carefully held out the lunch toward him without fully meeting his eyes.
"This is your lunch..."
Her voice came soft.
Careful.
Almost nervous.
For one terrible moment, Lane truly thought he might refuse it.
But instead—
Ethan reached out and took it silently.
Just like that.
No rejection.
No cold remark.
Nothing.
Still—
That alone startled Lane more than it should have.
Because for the first time since everything happened—
Ethan accepted something she made for him.
Even if silently.
Even if expressionless.
Lane quickly lowered her eyes again afterward before stepping back toward her chair.
And somehow—
Her chest felt strangely warm.
Small.
Fragile.
But warm.
Catherine noticed everything.
The way Lane quietly relaxed afterward.
The way Ethan didn’t reject the food this time.
And most importantly—
The fact both of them clearly affected each other far more than either admitted aloud.
Ethan eventually stood from the table after finishing his coffee.
"I’m leaving."
Catherine nodded.
"Drive safely."
Then Ethan’s gaze shifted briefly toward Lane again.
Only briefly.
But enough to make her look down immediately toward her hands.
Without another word, Ethan turned and walked toward the entrance.
A few seconds later, the front door closed softly behind him.
The mansion fell quiet again.
Lane remained seated silently at the dining table afterward while absentmindedly resting one hand against her stomach.
And despite trying not to—
She couldn’t stop thinking about the fact Ethan had taken the lunch
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