He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 264

Ottilie barely slept the entire night. When morning finally came, she had just managed to drift off when a spam text jarred her awake, ruining any chance of falling back asleep.

She laid in bed until seven o'clock when a knock came at the door.

"Ms. Sewell, breakfast is ready. Mr. Fordham will be here to pick you up at eight, so we need to start getting ready."

"Got it," Ottilie replied, getting up to wash her face.

In the dining room, Yvonne had already laid out breakfast on the table. "It's a warm bowl of oatmeal and pastries today, per Mr. Yorath's instructions."

Ottilie nodded, taking a seat. She ate the oatmeal, had two pastries, and a slice of grilled fish.

Once she was done, she sat on the sofa, suddenly at a loss for what to do.

It was only then that she took a proper look around the house.

She noticed that bright red festive ribbons had been hung over the windows and walls.

The elegant, muted floral arrangements that usually decorated the space had all been swapped out for vibrant, blood-red roses.

Festive ribbons fluttered softly above the blooms.

It truly looked like a newlywed's home.

Yvonne approached with a garment bag. "Mr. Yorath will be here in half an hour. Please change into this."

Ottilie went into the bedroom to change. It was a white silk gown.

The dress was free of any floral embellishments, featuring a simple, elegant design that covered her entirely, revealing only her collarbones.

The fabric was top-tier luxury, completely custom-tailored to her exact measurements. Ottilie stared at her reflection for nearly a full minute.

When she came back out, she asked Yvonne, "Who designed this?"

"Henri's junior, Paolo."

Ottilie nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Let's hire him as my personal stylist from now on."

"He's already here," Yvonne replied smoothly. "He's living in the backyard."

Behind the main house was a separate building designated for staff.

Though they were technically servant quarters, the renovations were incredibly luxurious.

Each apartment was nearly nine hundred square feet, featuring a bedroom, living room, kitchen, and bathroom. The furniture, heating, and appliances were all installed to the exact same standard as the main house.

Once hired, Ottilie's personal makeup artist and stylist had simply rolled their suitcases in and made themselves at home.

"If you need your makeup done, I can call the artist over right now," Yvonne offered.

"No need. This is fine." Unless she was required to for a role, Ottilie rarely wore makeup.

It was weightless. Unreal.

Looking back at Yorath, she felt as though a thick fog had settled between them. Neither could see the other's heart clearly anymore.

Yorath extended a hand to her. "If we don't leave now, we'll be late."

She placed her hand in his, letting him pull her to her feet.

Yorath intertwined their fingers, leading her forward step by step.

"Tilly," he murmured. "Let me hold your hand like this for the rest of our lives."

Ottilie remained silent.

They walked out the door and approached the car.

Yorath stopped and looked back at her. "I know you don't want to marry me. I know you're resisting this with everything you have. But I'm sorry. I just can't let you go."

If she tried to leave, he would do whatever it took to force her to stay.

Ottilie kept her head bowed. Yorath gently caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "Forgive my selfishness."

Ottilie turned her face away, refusing to look at him, and climbed into the car.