She Was Never Just the Wife novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

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The car moved smoothly through the afternoon streets. The cabin was quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of traffic drifting through the windows.

Celia leaned back in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the scenery blurring past outside. Her profile looked calm, but Elliott noticed her fingers idly tracing the edge of her phone.

“Dr. Ross,” Elliott broke the silence, his voice steady, “thank you again for taking care of my grandfather.”

Celia turned to look at him. “I’m glad he’s recovering well. The hospital has arranged everything for his follow-up care.”

“I know.” Elliott nodded. “Mr. Dillon showed me the complete recovery plan later, and a lot of your suggestions were in there.”

He was telling the truth. That morning when Elliott had gone to see Camren, Matteo had pulled out a detailed post-op rehabilitation plan.

It included not just standard conventional medicine protocols but also recommendations from traditional medicine. The whole thing was clear, thorough, and well thought out, Matteo had said many of the details came from Celia.

“It was my job.” Celia’s tone stayed flat. “For elderly patients, combining traditional medicine with conventional medicine after surgery tends to work better.” She sounded entirely professional, all doctor.

Elliott glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She wore a cream-colored trench coat today, her hair loose around her shoulders, no makeup. She looked clean.

But if one looked closely, one could see that the corners of her eyes were slightly red. Not obvious, but he caught it.

Earlier, outside the Lucero Group building, when he had watched Celia walk through the revolving doors, her back had been straight and her steps steady.

But her fingers had been white around her phone. Even then, he knew her time at the Luceros’ had not gone well.

“Dr. Ross,” Elliott said carefully, “if you ever need any help…”

“No.” Celia cut him off, her voice still calm. “I can handle things between Beckham and myself.” She said it too fast, like a reflex.

Elliott didn’t push. He wasn’t the type to pry into other people’s business. But watching this woman who seemed so calm yet so clearly holding something back, he felt something he couldn’t quite name.

The car passed through an intersection. At a red light, Elliott glanced at the GPS. “About twenty more minutes to the law firm you’re going.”

“Mm,” Celia said, turning to look out the window.

The light turned green, and they moved on. A few minutes later, Elliott suddenly hit his turn signal and pulled up slowly to the curb.

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Chapter 22

Celia looked at him, surprised. “Mr. Perry, do you need to take care of something?”

“Wait here,” he said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ll be quick.”

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He pushed open the door and got out, striding toward a nicely decorated milk shake shop by the road. Celia watched his tall figure disappear through the door, momentarily confused. She looked around. This wasn’t a commercial district. They were just a few small shops and some apartment buildings nearby.

A few minutes later, Elliott came back. He was carrying a cup of milk shake. The paper cup had a cute cartoon design on it, and steam curled up from the lid.

He got back into the car and held the cup out to her. “Here.”

Celia froze. She stared at the cup, then at Elliott, completely lost. “Mr. Perry?”

“I heard that sweet drinks help when someone’s having a bad day.” He said it casually, but if one looked closely, the tips of his ears had gone slightly pink.

Celia took the cup. The warmth spread from her palm through her fingers. She looked down at the little kitten design on the cup, then back up at Elliott, her expression complicated. “Who told you that?”

“My cousin,” Elliott answered immediately, his words coming a little faster than usual. “She’s on break from school and she won’t stop talking about her ‘rules of love.

“She says when a girl is upset, you have to buy her something sweet, and it has to be the full sugar version. I told her to stop reading so much nonsense online, but she insists it’s ‘science.”

He said all of this with a completely serious face, and there was even something defensive in his eyes, like he was desperate to explain himself.

Celia looked at him and suddenly found this man, who dominated the business world and was known as the Reaper to outsiders, endearingly awkward right now.

She remembered all those articles in the financial magazines about Elliott, how they described him as decisive, cold, and unforgiving at the negotiation table.

And yet here he was, pulling over just to buy her milk shake because of something his cousin had said, then rushing to explain himself so she wouldn’t think he was hitting on her. The contrast was almost funny.

“Mr. Perry,” Celia raised an eyebrow slightly, a rare hint of teasing in her voice, “don’t tell me you think I’m the kind of person who feels better after a cup of milk shake.”

“No,” Elliott said quickly. But then he paused, and his voice dropped a little. “I just thought you might need something sweet.”

It was simple. But Celia understood. He wasn’t trying to flatter her or get on her good side. He just thought she might need something warm, even if it was just a cup of milk shake.

Celia looked down at the cup in her hands, her fingers brushing against the warm surface. After a long moment, she said quietly, “Thank you.”

Then she put the straw in and took a small sip. It was sweet but not too sweet, with a hint of vanilla and

12:57 Sat, May 9 MM

Chapter 22

cream, and it was warm. Really warm.

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Elliott watched her drink, the corner of his mouth lifting almost imperceptibly. He started the car again and pulled back into traffic.

The cabin filled with the faint scent of milk shake, and the heavy atmosphere from before somehow lightened.

“Mr. Perry, your cousin,” Celia said after a moment, a hint of curiosity in her voice, “how old is she?”

“Nineteen. A sophomore in college.” Elliott said. “Lively. Talks a lot. But she’s a good kid. It’s just…” He paused, searching for the right word. “She’s a little spoiled. She gets an idea in her head and just runs with it.”

When he talked about his cousin, his eyes softened. His tone carried that mix of exasperation and affection that older brothers have.

Celia tried to picture it. The stern, cold Elliott, getting lectured every day by a nineteen-year-old girl about the “rules of love,” and actually listening. It was almost funny.

“Mr. Perry,” she said softly, “you’re very patient.”

“I’m just used to it,” Elliott said. “Her parents live overseas. She grew up with my grandparents. I work a lot, so I don’t get to spend much time with her.

“As long as what she asks for isn’t unreasonable, I try to make it happen”

He said it flatly, like it was nothing, but Celia heard the sense of duty underneath that serious exterior, and she found herself thinking what a devoted man Elliott was to his family.

She thought of Beckham. Three years of marriage, and he had never even asked about her family. He didn’t even know her mother had died.

“Dr. Ross, your family…” Elliott started, then stopped. “Sorry. I’m asking too many questions.”

“It’s fine.” Celia shook her head. “My mother passed away. My father… you know. He had an affair and

remarried.”

She said it briefly, but Elliott heard the distance in her voice.

He didn’t ask again. He just said, “If you ever need anything, just say the word.”

“Mr. Perry, you’ve already helped me plenty today.” Celia looked out the window. “Turn right at the next intersection. We’re almost there.”

Elliott signaled as instructed, and the car turned slowly onto a quieter street before pulling up in front of an office building.

“Thanks for the ride.” Celia unbuckled her seatbelt and picked up the half-finished cup of milk shake. She hesitated. “This…”

“Take it,” Elliott said. “Drink it on the way.”

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