The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 113

**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest 113**

**Chapter 113**

**Gemma**

Donovan’s expression darkens, a frown etched deeply across his face, and it’s clear that he’s far from satisfied.

I feel an urgent need to intervene. “Donovan, it’s alright… Really. I heard her apology the first time,” I say, trying to inject some calm into the charged atmosphere.

It’s not that I’m inclined to give Claire a free pass—I have no desire to defend her actions. Yet, the insincerity of her half-hearted apology lingers like a bitter aftertaste, and the thought of enduring another one is unbearable.

Donovan exhales sharply, a gruff sound that echoes his displeasure.

“Since Gemma insists we let it go, we’ll drop it—this time,” he concedes reluctantly.

Claire’s eyes flash with unmasked hatred as she glares at me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Without uttering another word, she storms upstairs, leaving a heavy silence in her wake. She doesn’t even bother to join us for dinner.

I had anticipated this reaction, yet my stomach still twists with unease as Cassian and I are guided to the small room that will serve as our shared space for the night.

It’s been ages since we’ve been so close, confined within such a tight space—ever since I last stepped out of our home.

The room has clearly been arranged by Donovan long before, and it seems tailored for a specific occupant. It’s spacious, yet apart from the queen-sized bed, there isn’t even a single couch to sit upon.

My eyes drift to the bay window, and an idea strikes me. I’m determined to sleep there.

“What are you doing?” Cassian inquires, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“I’m going to sleep on the window seat,” I reply, as if it should be obvious.

“You should take the bed. I’ll take the window seat,” he insists, a hint of determination in his voice.

I shrug, acknowledging his offer with a hint of gratitude. Who would choose a cramped window seat over a cozy bed?

Once I settle into the plush embrace of the bed, I watch as Cassian approaches the window, his expression shifting to one of concern.

Standing at six-foot-five, it’s painfully clear that the window seat was not designed for someone of his stature. He has to curl himself up awkwardly just to fit, and it looks painfully uncomfortable.

After a moment, he turns to look at me, his expression serious. “This window seat is too small. Neither of us will get any sleep here. The bed is spacious enough… I promise I won’t touch you.”

I’m taken aback by his unexpected humility. It’s a side of Cassian I rarely witness.

I don’t want to complicate things between us, especially since we’re technically on the same side now, so I nod in agreement. “Fine.”

I turn my back to him, rolling to the far edge of the bed, seeking some semblance of space.

Cassian lets out a soft sigh, and after switching off the lights, he lays down on the opposite side. The mattress dips slightly behind me, causing a rush of tension to course through my body. After all, we’re still sharing the same bed, and the magnetic pull between us is unsettling.

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