No Sex for Six Years Because of Her? I'm Done novel Chapter 145

**Title: My Heart Waited Too Long and Choosing Freedom**

**Chapter 145 For Evan**

“Jack died in a car accident. It was an accident.”

+5 Pearls

“The sun was shining brightly that day. He had promised Isla that he would take both of us to the new zoo that afternoon. We were going to see the giraffes, those magnificent creatures that Isla adored. She had been bubbling with excitement all morning, her energy infectious. I watched her as she twirled in front of the mirror, wearing a new dress that her grandmother had gifted her. It was a lovely shade of pink, and she looked like a little princess.”

“Why would I ever wish for something bad to happen to him? He was my husband, my partner in everything. He was Isla’s father, the one who would lift her up on his shoulders to see the world from a new perspective. I loved him deeply. I miss him more than I can put into words. It’s a void that feels insurmountable.”

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she skirted around the deeper emotions that threatened to spill over.

“But Francesca has never believed my words. She thinks I am the one who cursed her son, that I am somehow to blame for this tragedy. She places the weight of her grief squarely on my shoulders.”

Fiona listened intently, her expression inscrutable, a mask of calmness in the storm of emotions swirling around them.

“Alright,” Fiona finally said, her tone steady and gentle as she cut through the heavy atmosphere. “You need to concentrate on your health now. Don’t dwell on these thoughts too much. We can discuss everything when you’re discharged.”

Grace shook her head slightly, as if trying to shake off the fog of despair. “Yeah, you’re right. Just rest for now.”

With a final reminder to Hannah to take care of herself, Fiona turned and made her way out, her cane tapping softly against the floor.

Grace followed her, the sound of the door clicking shut behind them ushering in a heavy silence that enveloped the room.

Just moments ago, Hannah had appeared utterly crushed, her heart visibly breaking under the weight of her grief. But as soon as the footsteps faded into the distance, the sorrow on her face vanished like a puff of smoke.

She sat up slowly, her fingers gently brushing against the bandages on her forehead, a reminder of her recent struggles.

This plan should work, shouldn’t it?

She felt a flicker of hope. Grace would surely soften over time, and Fiona, with her keen eye, wouldn’t find anything to use against her for a while.

As long as the Rowes continued to protect her, she still had a fighting chance to turn things around.

Meanwhile, Amelia found herself alone in the expansive living room of the Rowe Estate.

The television flickered in the background, but the volume was turned down low enough that it was merely a hum, a distraction she didn’t need.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the stillness of the room.

Amelia blinked and glanced over. It was Mason calling.

She stared at his name for a few moments, her heart racing before she finally answered. “Hello? Mason.”

“Are you free?” he asked, cutting straight to the point.

“What’s going on?” she replied, curiosity piqued.

“Come with me to pick out furniture.”

Furniture?

Amelia felt a jolt of surprise. They weren’t exactly on intimate terms to be shopping for furniture together.

“What furniture?” she asked cautiously. “Do you need something for your place?”

As they drove, the streetlights cast shifting shadows across Mason’s sharp profile, giving him an air of cold detachment.

Amelia’s fingers curled slightly in her lap, her mind a whirlwind of questions.

Why had Mason so readily agreed to sign that massive deal with Ethan? And what was the significance of that strange condition he had included?

Was this “wedding gift” intended to be a thoughtful gesture, or was it a carefully laid trap?

But the words lodged in her throat, heavy and unspoken. She knew little about the intricacies of business; asking might only expose her ignorance.

The silence stretched between them, thick and palpable.

Eventually, the car pulled into the underground parking garage of a sprawling international furniture center.

Mason led her to a private elevator that whisked them straight to a luxurious custom showroom on the top floor.

A well-dressed brand manager awaited them, a welcoming smile plastered on his face.

“Mr. Everett, welcome,” the manager greeted, his tone professional and warm. “We’ve prepared everything you requested. Please, follow me.”

Mason nodded, and effortlessly, he walked beside Amelia as they followed the manager into a private meeting room.

The manager spread several design drafts and material samples across a large, polished wooden table, his enthusiasm palpable.

“Mr. Everett,” he began, “based on your instructions, we’ve created special designs for your brother’s bedroom and study. All furniture edges have been rounded to prevent injury, and the closet rods and drawers are set at a height suitable for wheelchair access. The desk height and legroom have been meticulously measured to ensure comfort…”

Amelia’s heart raced as she absorbed the details, realizing the depth of thought and care that had gone into this endeavor.