The Billionaire's True Heiress From Fake Jewel to Real Crown novel Chapter 401

“Am I really not old yet?” Fallon ran her fingers over her face, studying herself in the mirror. She took care of her skin, sure, but so did Octavia. Having never had kids, Fallon looked a bit younger than her old friend. But just thinking about children always brought a flash of pain to her eyes.

Wheeler didn’t have a clue. He was totally caught up in her profile, not noticing the shadow that flickered across her face.

“You’re just as beautiful as when you taught us,” he said quietly.

“No, I think you’re even more stunning now. Sophisticated, too,” Wheeler added, his words warm with gratitude and just a touch of awe. Fallon had always seemed special to him.

She laughed, a real, genuine sound. “You’ve picked up the art of sweet talking. Who taught you that, huh?”

He grinned, and helped her out of the car as soon as they arrived, holding her arm with a careful gentleness. He didn’t stop there, either, walking her upstairs and making sure she was comfortable before he even thought about leaving.

Fallon didn’t rush him. She offered some tea, and he sat with her, even though he wasn’t interested in the tea at all. Instead, he insisted on helping her soak her foot and put on her medicine.

At first, Fallon wanted to turn him down, but he looked so earnest that she found herself giving in.

Suddenly, Wheeler asked, “Are you still living alone these days?” He wasn’t even sure why he asked, but as he knelt to take her foot in his hands, holding her ankle tenderly, he felt his ears turn hot. He waited, holding his breath for whatever she would say.

Fallon had always been good at reading men. It was clear to her now that this former student’s feelings for her had shifted into something more complicated, even worshipful.

She let herself sink into his chest for a moment, looking lost, her eyes brimming over with tears. “How am I supposed to start over?” Her palm landed on her stomach. “I used to have a baby right here, but she’s gone now. Just gone.”

“You can start over,” Wheeler began, but she pulled away, forcing a small, careful smile as she wiped her tears.

“I’m sorry, Wheeler. I shouldn’t have dumped all of this on you. It’s late. You should get going.”

But Wheeler stayed put. “Your ankle’s still hurt. You shouldn’t be alone. Let me help you tonight. What if you get thirsty and can’t get to the kitchen? It’d be no trouble at all.”