Marry Ex's Billionaire Uncle After Divorce (Aurora and Jasper) novel Chapter 55

Chapter 38: A Gift–1

Chapter 38: A Gift

(Aurora’s POV)

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The door opened and Phineas stepped out in a charcoal suit that looked like it had been cut specifically for his shoulders, which, objectively speaking, it probably had been.

He looked up and saw me at the same moment I saw him.

A beat of silence.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted. “Did you bribe my assistant to get my personal schedule, Dr. Caldwell?”

My face went warm before I could stop it. “I was invited,” I said. “By my mentor. Who I have known for seven years. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Of course.”

He didn’t look convinced. He looked entertained, which was worse.

I walked past him and pressed the doorbell.

Professor Walsh opened the door himself, beaming. Mrs. Walsh appeared immediately behind him and pulled me into a hug that smelled like rosemary and warm bread.

“Come in, come in. Dinner’s almost ready.”

I followed them into the sitting room, set the gift bag on the coffee table, and pulled out the two boxes.

Professor Walsh frowned the moment he saw them. “Aurora. I told you not to bring anything.”

“I know.”

“Return one of them. You’re a researcher, not a hedge fund manager. You shouldn’t be spending money on-”

“I’ll return one later,” I said. “Promise.”

He grumbled but let it go.

Phineas had followed us in and settled into the armchair by the window with the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. He hadn’t said anything since the doorbell. He was

Chapter 38: A Gift–1

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watching the room with that particular quality of stillness that I had noticed before, where he was clearly paying attention to everything and giving away nothing.

Professor Walsh opened the first box, pulled out the burgundy tie, and held it up against his chest.

“Now that,” he said, with visible satisfaction, “is a tie.”

He set it aside and looked at the navy one.

“Too serious,” he announced. “I’m not a funeral director. Since you won’t return it, just leave it here.”

I laughed. “Fine.”

Phineas shifted in the armchair. His voice, when he spoke, was low and unhurried.

“Returning it sounds like a lot of trouble.” He looked at me directly. “What did you pay for it? If you don’t mind, Aurora–would you sell it to me?”

Phineas’s voice was low and magnetic, vibrating through the quiet living room. It caught me off guard.

I blinked in confusion. “What?”

A faint smile played on his lips. “The navy tie,” he repeated. “If you don’t want to return it, sell it to me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “I was going to return it anyway. If you like it, just take it. Consider it yours.”

I didn’t want his money. It would feel too transactional, too weird given he was my boss.

Phineas reached out and took the box from my hands. His smile deepened, as if he had been waiting exactly for those words.

profound,” he said, his grey eyes locking onto mine. “Thank you for the gift, Aurora. I accept

it.”

I froze. I just didn’t want him to spend money on a spare item. How did he twist that into me preparing a special gift for him?

Professor Walsh squinted at his nephew. “You’re behaving strangely today, Phineas. You usually wouldn’t bother with such trivial things.”

Before Phineas could reply, Mrs. Walsh clapped her hands. “Dinner is ready! Let’s not let the food get cold.”

Chapter 38: A Gift–1

We moved to the dining room. The table was set beautifully.

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“Aurora, dear, you look so pale,” Mrs. Walsh said, pouring a generous glass of red wine for me. “You’ve lost weight.”

She scooped a large serving of Shepherd’s Pie onto my plate, followed by a slice of roast chicken.

“Eat up,” she urged. “You need your strength.”

I knew why I was weak. The surgery was still taking its toll. But I couldn’t say that here. “Thank you, Mrs. Walsh,” I said politely. “It smells delicious.”

The dinner was pleasant. The two men spoke little, mostly nodding as Mrs. Walsh and I chatted about the garden and the weather.

When the meal ended, I stood up and reached for the plates. “Let me help clean up.”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Walsh said, grabbing my arm. “Guests do not do dishes. Besides, domestic chores should be shared by the men.”

She pulled me toward the French doors leading to the back garden. “Come, let’s get some fresh air.”

I glanced back hesitantly. My elderly mentor and the billionaire CEO of Everett Group? Doing dishes?

To my shock, Phineas stood up. He unbuttoned his cuffs and began rolling his sleeves up to his elbows.

His forearms were muscular and defined, striking a sharp contrast to his usual suited appearance.

“I’ll handle the washing,” Phineas said calmly. “Uncle Henry, you make the coffee.”

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