The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 165

165 Goodbyes at the Station

Mitre’s voice came low from the doorway. “She’s afraid.”

Eve’s cheeks heated. “Mitre,”

He didn’t look apologetic. He just looked at her like honesty was a form of protection. “You are.”

Eve’s throat tightened. “I’m… worried.”

Camila’s eyes held hers. “About us leaving.”

Eve nodded, small.

Camila stepped closer and cupped Eve’s cheek lightly, turning her face the way a mother might, as if

checking for fever. “We are not leaving you.”

Eve let out a breath that trembled. “But you’re going.”

“We’re going to Westwood,” Camila corrected gently. “Not to the moon.”

Mitre snorted. “Even if we were going to the moon, I’d still come back if she called.”

Eve blinked, a flicker of emotion cutting sharp through her chest. “You don’t have to,”

Mitre lifted a hand. “Stop. Don’t do that thing where you try to make yourself smaller so you don’t feel like

a burden.”

Eve’s lips parted, surprised.

Mitre’s eyes stayed hard, but not cruel. “You are family now. Family is not a burden.”

Camila’s thumb brushed Eve’s cheek. “He came and tried to shake you,” she said quietly, voice dippinhere like a warning, zipped compartments, folded clothes, a careful little pile of toiletries lined up on the dresser as if someone was trying to pack warmth into a box and pretend it would travel well.

Camila moved around the room with soft efficiency, folding a blouse, smoothing a crease, placing it down as if order could protect her from the ugliness that always found Eve eventually.

Mitre stood near the door, arms crossed, watching the hallway like the house might be listening.

Eve hovered between them, useless hands, a tightness in her chest she couldn’t swallow down.

She told herself it was normal.

People left.

People returned.

Westwood wasn’t far.

Camila and Mitre had lives, responsibilities, routines. They couldn’t stay forever, just because Eve’s past had barged into her front door and reminded her how quickly peace could be ripped apart.

And yet anxiety pressed harder with every folded shirt.

Because Steven’s visit had proven something Eve hated admitting even to herself:

Safety wasn’t a place. It was a fragile moment.

And moments ended.

“Eve,” Camila said gently, catching her staring again. “Come. Help me with this.”

Eve stepped forward too quickly, eager to be useful, and reached for a stack of folded clothes.

Camila’s hand touched hers, stopping her. Not forceful, just firm enough to slow her down.

“Not like that,” Camila said softly. “You’re trembling.”

Eve looked down and realised her fingers were shaking. She tightened them into a fist, embarrassed. “I’m

fine.”

Camila made a small sound, half sigh, half warning. “My love, you can stop saying that. You don’t have to perform strength for me.”

Eve swallowed hard. “I’m not pg to the truth they hadn’t fully spoken out loud. “And he succeeded, because that is what he does. But you are

still standing.”

Eve swallowed. “I don’t feel like I am.”

Camila’s gaze turned firm. “You don’t have to feel it. You only have to keep doing it.”

Eve’s hand drifted to her belly instinctively, as if she could reassure the life inside her with touch. “It’s worse now,” she whispered. “Not just because he came. Because… because I know what it means.”

Mitre’s brows narrowed. “Say it.”

Eve hesitated. “If peace can be disrupted that quickly… then, ” Her voice caught. “Then what happens when you’re not here every day.”

Camila’s face softened. “Eve…”

Eve forced herself to look at her. “Your warmth makes this house feel safe,” she admitted, voice shaking. ” Mitre’s presence makes me feel like… like the world will think twice before touching me.”

Mitre’s jaw tightened, and for a second he looked almost uncomfortable with the praise. “The world doesn’t think twice. That’s why I watch.”

2/5

165 Goodbyes at the Station

Eve looked away quickly, ashamed of how much she needed them.

Camila lifted Eve’s chin gently. “You will not be alone.”

Eve let out a small, bitter breath. “I was alone for most of my life.”

Camila’s expression changed, warmth turning to something steely. “That is not your future.”

Eve tried to believe her.

The guest room door opened wider, and Ryan stepped in.

He didn’t knock. He never did in his own house. But he paused at the threshold, eyes sweeping the room,

suitcase, folded clothes, Eve’s tense posture, Camila’s hand on Eve’s face.

His gaze tightened slightly, the way it did when he registered something he didn’t like.

Not in a jealous way.

In a protective, controlled way.

“Are you ready?” Ryan asked.

Mitre’s eyes flicked to Ryan. “We will be.”

Ryan nodded once. “I’m driving you.”

Camila’s brows lifted. “Ryan, you don’t need to,”

“I’m driving you,” he repeated, voice calm but immovable.

Eve’s eyes flicked to him. “You have work.”

Ryan’s gaze held hers for a beat. “So do you.”

Eve’s throat tightened again, unsure what he meant.

Ryan’s focus moved briefly to her belly, so quick it might have been imagined. Then he looked back at her face as if correcting himself into neutrality.

“I’ll take you,” he said to Camila and Mitre, then added, “and that’s final.”

Mitre’s mouth twitched. “Alpha energy.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t start.”

Mitre’s small amusement didn’t last. It faded into the usual watchfulness. “Fine. But we don’t need a

procession.”

“You’re getting one,” Ryan said.

Camila exhaled, half resigned, half touched. “Alright.”

Eve stood still, chest tight.

5

165 Goodbyes at the Station

She knew this goodbye was coming.

She knew Camila and Mitre had to return to their lives.

But knowing it didn’t make it easier.

Glam

Camila zipped the suitcase and clicked the latch like a final sentence. She turned and opened her arms

without saying anything.

Eve stepped into the embrace instantly, as if her body had been waiting for permission to cling.

Camila held her tightly. “Look at me,” she murmured into Eve’s hair.

Eve pulled back slightly.

Camila’s eyes searched her face. “You have to eat,” she said. “You have to rest. You have to stop carrying

fear like it’s a duty.”

Eve’s throat tightened. “I’ll try.”

“Don’t try,” Camila said, voice firm. “Do.”

Eve nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Mitre reached for the suitcase handle. “Let’s go before she convinces herself the train is a betrayal.”

Eve gave a weak laugh that didn’t reach her eyes.

Ryan stepped aside to let them pass. His hand hovered near Eve’s back, not touching, but close enough to

be felt.

When they walked down the hallway, Eve followed like a shadow, her chest tightening with each step away

from the guest room.

The front door opened. Cold air slipped in. The house felt even larger.

Outside, the car waited.

Ryan held the rear door open for Camila with a politeness that looked strange on him, like he had learned

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify