Forced To Marry My Cousin's Fiancé

Chapter 43: Chapter 43

The morning brought no relief from the suffocating weight that had settled over the master bedroom. When Lane finally blinked her gritty, sleep-deprived eyes open, the bright daylight was already streaming through the large windows.

Ethan had just finished dressing. He stood near the edge of the bed, fastening the buttons of his crisp white dress shirt with methodical precision. Lane quietly slid out from beneath the covers, gripping her robe around her shoulders, and slipped into the bathroom to freshen up. She took her time, deliberately slowing her movements to delay the inevitable.

Yet, when she stepped back into the bedroom, Ethan was still there. He stood by the vanity, straightening his silk tie. Lane instantly lowered her head, deliberately avoiding his intense gaze as she began gathering her things. She made a quiet, hasty move to step out of the room, wanting nothing more than to escape the heavy, unspoken tension vibrating between them.

"Lane."

Ethan’s deep voice cut through the silence, forcing her to halt right at the doorway. She kept her back to him, her fingers tightening on the doorframe.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his tone unusually cautious.

"Fine," Lane replied quietly, her voice entirely flat, devoid of the warmth she used to offer him so freely.

She made a move to continue walking, but his voice stopped her a second time. "You went to your parents’ house last night." He paused, a rare trace of rough hesitation bleeding into his words.

"I didn’t mean to not show up. Something came up at the office... and then there was an accident that completely blocked the traffic."

Lane stared at the hallway floor, a bitter, hollow sensation rising in her throat.

"It’s fine," she said softly, refusing to offer him the validation or the reassurance he was looking for. Without turning back to see his expression, she walked out and descended the grand staircase.

Down in the spacious kitchen, the comforting aroma of breakfast offered a stark contrast to her internal turmoil. Lane spotted Clara, one of the longtime estate maids, tidying up the counters.

"Clara, where is Aunt Catherine?" Lane asked, her voice still holding a trace of morning fatigue.

"Good morning, Miss Lane," Clara replied with a warm, bright smile. "Madam Catherine is upstairs in her study handling some early correspondence."

Lane nodded quietly. Feeling the hollow ache of her empty stomach, she opened the large refrigerator, sliced a modest piece of leftover cake, and poured herself a fresh glass of chilled juice. She carried her plate over to the breakfast bar and sat down.

Clara watched her with a fond, teasing glint in her eyes. "The baby is hungry this morning, I see," she remarked, her smile widening.

At the mention of her little one, the icy guard around Lane’s heart thawed just a fraction. A genuine, soft smile touched her lips as she gently rested her hand over her abdomen.

"Yes," she murmured softly, taking a small bite of the cake. "We’re both starving today."

She was only halfway through her quiet meal when the sharp, commanding sound of footsteps signaled Ethan’s entrance into the kitchen. Lane’s smile instantly vanished, her posture stiffening.

Ethan didn’t look at Lane directly at first. Instead, he kept his eyes on Clara. "Where is Mom?"

"She’s upstairs in her study, sir," Clara answered politely.

"Tell her I’m off to work," Ethan instructed, his voice clipped. He took a single step toward the door, then suddenly paused mid-stride. He turned his heavy frame around, his dark eyes locking entirely onto Lane’s solitary figure at the counter.

"I’m leaving."

The words felt less like a statement and more like a demand for her attention. Lane slowly lifted her head, her gaze meeting his intense, unreadable look for a fleeting second. She didn’t say a word; she simply gave him a curt, polite nod before looking right back down at her plate.

Before Ethan could say anything else, the sharp buzz of Lane’s phone on the counter shattered the silence. The screen flashed brightly with Noah’s caller ID.

Lane picked it up immediately, entirely grateful for the distraction. "Hello, Noah?"

"Morning, Lane!" Noah’s cheerful, energetic voice echoed clearly through the quiet kitchen. "Just a reminder—we’re supposed to go out for lunch today. Have you thought about where you want to go? Pick any place you like, it’s my treat."

"I was actually thinking of that fast-food place down on Fourth Street," Lane said, a small craving hitting her.

"Absolutely not," Noah replied instantly, his tone shifting into an exaggerated, protective scold. "Lane, you’ve been eating a lot of fast food lately, and it’s completely unhealthy for the baby. Pick a proper restaurant with real, nutritious options."

Lane couldn’t help but huff out a small, playful protest. "But that’s exactly what I want today, Noah. Just this once?"

Noah let out a dramatic, defeated sigh through the receiver. "Alright, alright. Fine. But you’re ordering a salad on the side. I’ll meet you there at 12:30."

"Deal. See you then," Lane chuckled.

As she hung up the phone and placed it back on the counter, she felt a sudden, suffocating pressure in the room. She looked up, and her breath hitched. Ethan was still standing near the doorway, his entire body rigid. A dark, incredibly hard gaze was fixed entirely on her face, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles rippled.

Lane deliberately tore her eyes away.Ethan let out a sharp, icy breath, turned on his heel and left.

By 12:30 PM, the bustling noise of the fast-food restaurant provided a welcome shield from Lane’s thoughts. She and Noah sat in a quiet booth near the back, a spread of burgers and fries between them.

Noah watched her carefully as she systematically dipped a fry into ketchup, his usual cheerful demeanor shifting into something much more serious. "So, how is everything going, Lane? Last time we spoke, you were planning for a divorce. How did that conversation go?"

Lane’s hand froze mid-air. The word *divorce* hung heavily over the table, making the food in front of her lose all its appeal. She slowly lowered her hand, pausing as a shadow of profound sadness crossed her face.

Noah studied her closely, his sharp eyes reading her instantly. He let out a soft, knowing sigh. "You can’t do it, can you? It’s because you love him too much."

"It’s not like that, Noah," Lane denied quickly, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to defend her fractured pride. She looked out the window, her expression hardening with forced resolve. "And of course I’ll leave. The moment Olivia comes back, I’m out of his life. I already promised myself that."

"So what?" Noah asked, his voice laced with genuine frustration on her behalf. "Are you just going to continue being stuck in that miserable marriage, waiting around indefinitely for Olivia to come back? Lane, you deserve a life, too." He leaned forward, his tone turning fiercely supportive.

"If it’s about her, I can help you look for Olivia. I can hire investigators to track her down abroad and speed this entire process up for you."

"No, that is completely unnecessary," Lane said quickly, shaking her head. "Sure, Ethan has already sent his own people to look for her, and obviously, her parents are doing everything they can to find her too. It’s only a matter of time."

Desperate to escape the painful subject of her failing marriage, Lane cleared her throat and forcing a brighter tone, completely changing the topic.

"Anyway... did you receive the text message from the orphanage manager yesterday?"

Lane and Noah had been quietly funding a local orphanage for months, a passion project they both held incredibly close to their hearts.

Noah’s face instantly brightened, letting the heavy topic slide. "Yes, I did. They’re hosting a small gathering for the kids tomorrow. I was thinking we could go down there together. Oh, and Ava is actually coming along with us this time."

At the explicit mention of Ava, a genuine, radiant smile finally broke across Lane’s face.

"Ava is coming? Where on earth did she go? She hasn’t been around for weeks."

"She had to go abroad for a family emergency," Noah explained, taking a sip of his drink. "But she got back last night and immediately insisted on joining us."

Lane nodded happily. Ava was a dear friend who also co-funded the orphanage with them, and her fiery, protective energy was exactly what Lane needed right now.

"That’s wonderful. I think I’ll cook some homemade food tonight so we can bring it to the kids tomorrow. They love home-cooked meals."

"No way, absolutely not," Noah interjected firmly, pointing a finger at her.

"You are heavily pregnant, Lane. The sheer fatigue of standing in a kitchen cooking for thirty kids is out of the question. We can just buy a bunch of fast food, pizzas, and ice cream to cheer the kids up. Trust me, they love that stuff a lot more anyway."

Lane chuckled softly at his protectiveness, yielding to his logic. "Alright, fine. We’ll buy the food instead."

The next morning, the ringing of Lane’s phone woke her early. She answered it sleepily, seeing Noah’s name on the screen.

"Where are you right now?" Noah asked, the sound of a car engine humming in his background.

"I’m still at home, just getting dressed," Lane murmured, rubbing her eyes.

"Perfect. I’m actually on my way to your neighborhood right now. I’ll just come pick you up so we can carpool and avoid burning extra fuel," Noah offered. "Ava is already in the car with me, by the way. She explicitly said she was far too tired from her flight to drive her own car today."

Lane smiled, but then looked toward the hallway. "Actually, Noah, I’m already planning on going with Aunt Catherine."

Suddenly, the sound of rustling came through the phone, and a sharp, lively female voice took over the receiver. "Wait, Ethan’s mother is coming with you?" Ava asked, sounding entirely alert now.

Lane couldn’t help but laugh out loud. "Good morning to you too, Ava. Yes, Aunt Catherine is joining us,she was invited."

After talking and catching up for a few more minutes, they finalized the plans. "Alright, we’ll just meet you guys at the orphanage entrance," Lane said. "Drive safely, you two."

After finishing her makeup and dressing in a comfortable, flowy maternity dress, Lane walked downstairs. She linked arms with Aunt Catherine, and together, they walked out into the cool morning air toward the driveway.

But the moment they stepped onto the gravel, Lane froze in surprise.

Leaning casually against the sleek black SUV was Ethan. He was dressed in a dark designer suit, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s still here? Lane thought, her heart skipping a beat. *I thought he left for the corporate office hours ago.

Aunt Catherine’s eyes lit up with a knowing, satisfied smile. Seeing them approach, Ethan immediately straightened up. He stepped forward, bypassed Lane entirely without a word, and opened the rear passenger door. Aunt Catherine smiled warmly at her son and climbed into the back seat.

Lane moved forward, naturally intending to slide into the back seat next to Aunt Catherine, but before she could even reach for the handle, Ethan suddenly and firmly shut the rear door right in front of her.

Lane blinked, stunned, looking up at him.

Without a word of explanation, Ethan turned and walked toward the front passenger door.

He pulled it open wide, his dark, commanding eyes locking onto hers as he silently waited for her to take the front seat. Lane hesitated for a long moment, the sheer intensity of his presence making her nervous, but under Aunt Catherine’s watchful eyes, she finally stepped forward and climbed in.

As she lowered herself into the seat, Ethan smoothly positioned his large hand over the top frame of the door, shielding her head so she wouldn’t accidentally bump it against the roof.

The small, unexpectedly protective gesture sent a confusing jolt through Lane’s chest.

Ethan walked around the front of the car, climbed into the driver’s seat, and started the powerful engine. Before shifting into drive, he turned his head and looked at her directly.

"Seat belt."

"Oh," Lane murmured, realizing she had forgotten. She reached over her shoulder, fumbling blindly with the strap.

Seeing her struggle, Ethan didn’t hesitate. He leaned across the center console, his massive frame instantly invading her personal space. Lane gasped softly, freezing as the scent of his expensive cologne completely enveloped her senses.

His fingers brushed against her hand as he took hold of the buckle, the brief, electric contact making her skin tingle. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the seat belt across her body and clicked it securely into place.

As he pulled back, Lane nervously glanced at the rearview mirror. To her absolute dismay, Aunt Catherine was sitting in the back, a massive, incredibly pleased smile plastered across her face.

The drive to the orphanage was filled with a heavy, silent tension. Minutes later, the SUV smoothly pulled into the gravel parking lot of the facility.

The moment the car stopped, Ethan quickly unbuckled, got out, and walked around to open the rear door for Aunt Catherine, assisting his mother out with practiced chivalry. Lane, wanting to avoid any more forced closeness with him, swiftly unbuckled her own belt and got out of the front seat completely on her own, before he could even make his way around to her side.

Ethan stopped mid-step, noticing her hasty retreat. His eyes narrowed slightly, a look of distinct frustration crossing his features; he had clearly wanted to open the door for her himself.

Lane deliberately looked away from his piercing gaze, smoothing down her dress. Aunt Catherine stepped up beside them, adjusting her cardigan, and smiled warmly at the building. "Well, we’re here. We should get inside, kids are waiting."

As they walked toward the main courtyard, Lane’s eyes scanned the area, and she immediately spotted two familiar figures standing near the entrance. "Noah! Ava!" she called out, her voice filled with genuine relief.

Ava’s head snapped up, and the moment she saw Lane, her face erupted into a brilliant grin. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around Lane in a tight, careful hug. Noah followed right behind her, offering Lane a warm, affectionate embrace.

"I missed you so much!" Ava said, pulling back to beam at Lane before turning to greet the older woman. "Good morning, Mrs Blackwood.

Aunt Catherine smiled gracefully, genuinely happy to see the young woman. "Ava. It really has been far too long since I saw you." Aunt Catherine then shifted her stance, turning slightly toward her son who stood like a silent, towering shadow behind them. "Let me introduce you to my son, Ethan."

Lane watched the interaction closely, and she didn’t miss the exact fraction of a second where Ava’s bright, welcoming smile completely vanished into thin air at the mention of his name. Lane gave Ava a subtle, warning look; she knew better than anyone that Ava absolutely despised Ethan for the way he treated Lane behind closed doors.

Ava’s eyes turned incredibly cold, but maintaining her public manners, she looked down at Ethan’s extended hand and gave it a brief, rigidly stiff handshake.

Aunt Catherine, entirely oblivious to the silent hostility, then turned her attention toward Noah. "And Ethan, you’ve already met Noah. He came by the house to see Lane the other day."

The moment the words left his mother’s mouth, Lane noticed Ethan’s entire expression darken to a sub-zero temperature. His jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a dangerous, possessive glare as he looked at the man who had been calling his wife’s phone so casually.

Noah, entirely unbothered by the deadly aura radiating from the billionaire, maintained a calm, steady smile. With complete confidence, Noah extended his hand directly toward Ethan.

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