"Don't make me say it twice."
I cut him off coldly.
Seeing that I seemed genuinely angry, the butler nodded hastily.
"Of course, Mrs. Delgado. But before that, I need to inform Mr. Delgado first."
"You have ten minutes."
Five minutes later, Everard's call came through.
His voice was the same as always, dripping with tenderness.
"Iris, what's wrong? The butler said you suddenly want to come home. Are you uncomfortable there? Or..."
A soft laugh threaded through his words.
"Do you miss your husband?"
Listening to this, I swallowed the nausea rising in my throat and forced out a stiff hum of agreement.
"Everard, I'm feeling much better already. It's damp and cold by the sea. I want to come home."
He chuckled again.
"Iris, I'm worried that coming back might upset you emotionally. What if your mood takes a turn?"
"The coast may be a bit damp, but at least it's peaceful..."
"Then come stay with me."
Silence on the other end. Two seconds.
Everard was always buried in work and constantly tending to Madge. There was no way he'd come to the coast to keep me company.
"Iris, I've got a lot on my plate right now..."
"Then send someone to bring me home."
He seemed to finish weighing his options, because he let out a resigned sigh.
"Fine, fine, fine. I'll send the helicopter for you."
Before long, the helicopter touched down on the wide stretch of beach.
The butler and the nanny poked their heads out. "This way, Mrs. Delgado."
The entire ride back, I rubbed my temples in agitation. My head was pounding.
I didn't know how much time had passed before the butler spoke up. "Mrs. Delgado, we've arrived."
"Iris!"
The moment I stepped off the helicopter, a voice called my name.
I lifted my head slowly. Standing directly ahead was a handsome man in a tailored suit, smiling warmly and waving me over.
"Iris, you must be exhausted."
He closed the distance between us in a few strides and took my hand gently, then frowned.
"Your hands are freezing. Vanessa Lambert, go get Mrs. Delgado's coat."
Once the coat was draped over my shoulders, Everard held my hand again and went on talking, one thing after another.
Just like always. That same warmth. That same doting tone.
"Iris, now that you're home, stop overthinking things."
"Focus on taking care of yourself. The baby..." He paused. "We'll have more. In the future."
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to my forehead.
To anyone watching, he was the picture of a devoted husband, hopelessly in love with his wife.
On the way here, I had planned to confront him. To demand answers.
To look him in the eye and ask why he'd been cruel enough to kill our three children.
To ask why he'd spun lie after lie and kept me blind to all of it.
But now, standing in front of that face, I couldn't get a single word out.
He wasn't the only one who could put on an act.
I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his waist.
"Everard, don't send me away again. Please?"
"I feel so much better now. I won't cause any more trouble, and I won't..."
"I won't try to kill myself again."
His body went rigid for a split second, then he recovered and laughed softly, patting my back.
"Okay, okay. If you're really doing better, then you can stay wherever you want."
That night, before bed, Everard brought me a glass of juice, same as always.
"Fresh-squeezed. Made it with my own two hands."
I looked up slowly, staring at the glass.
Ever since my miscarriage, under the guise of making sure I got enough vitamins, Everard had personally brought me a glass of juice every single night.
I used to believe it was because he loved me that much.
Something as small as squeezing juice could easily have been left to the housekeeper, but he never let anyone else do it. He insisted on making it himself.
