The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 170

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**Before Rain Touches Earth Memories Return With Gentle Warmth by Eli Dane Crest**
**Chapter 170**

**Cassian’s POV**

Stepping out of the restaurant felt like shedding a heavy cloak that had weighed me down for far too long. Yet, as I walked beside Gemma, a troubling silence enveloped us. It struck me then—she hadn’t uttered a single word since we made our exit.

I wasn’t expecting a grand display of gratitude for enduring a lunch filled with her incessantly irritating aunt or for agreeing to help her cousin, but a simple thank-you would have been a welcome gesture.

I risk a glance at her, noting her arms crossed defensively, her chin angled toward the window as if I were a mere ghost.

Clearing my throat, I decide to break the icy atmosphere that had settled between us. “I think Kitty can join the company starting next week,” I offer, hoping to spark some kind of response.

A moment stretches into eternity before she merely shrugs, her demeanor suggesting boredom. “Good. Maybe she’ll fit in well. Not that I’ll know; I don’t even work there anymore.”

I let the silence stretch for a few more blocks, the tension thickening the air around us. Finally, I pull up at an intersection, the city lights flickering in the growing dusk. “Should we visit Grandpa first?” I suggest, trying to steer the conversation in a more familiar direction.

“Sure,” she replies, her voice flat, devoid of any enthusiasm.

Instead of heading toward the manor, I make a turn toward the hospital. The moment we enter, I can see Grandpa’s face light up, his spirits visibly lifted at our arrival. Gemma, suddenly animated, rushes to his side, fussing over him with far more words than she had spared for me all day.

“Grandpa! We’re just checking in on you before we head out tomorrow. Are you sure you’ll be alright?” she asks, her concern palpable.

“Yes, my dear,” Grandpa replies, but his critical gaze shifts to me. “Though I heard about the sudden flight delay…”

I glance at Gemma, expecting her to fill in the gaps, but she remains silent, her expression unreadable.

“We had lunch scheduled with Gemma’s relatives this afternoon,” I interject, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

“Ah, good then. And why are you sniffling?” Grandpa’s keen eyes catch the subtle emotion I’m trying to hide.

“Hm? It’s nothing,” I respond, my gaze fixated on Gemma, who has now settled on the far edge of the sofa, her legs crossed, her face a mask of indifference. Did she truly not notice my efforts to charm her today?

Meanwhile, Grandpa waves over a nurse. “Give him the herbal soup,” he commands, as if it were a matter of life and death.

“Grandpa, it’s not necessary—” I begin to protest, but he cuts me off.

“Of course it is! You’re leaving tomorrow, and you better not get sick before your wife even has a chance to enjoy herself.”

I take a sip of the concoction, grimacing as the bitter taste washes over me, each drop burning like a blend of crushed moss and regret steeped in murky water. Somehow, I manage to gulp it down in one go, but Gemma doesn’t even glance my way. After everything tonight, including postponing our honeymoon to accommodate her relatives, her demeanor remains as frosty as ever.

Setting the bowl down with a bit more force than intended, I can’t tear my gaze away from the way her lashes frame those inscrutable eyes. For the first time in ages, I realize I have no clue what she’s thinking. If she acknowledges my efforts, she certainly isn’t showing it. And if she cares, she’s hiding it better than anyone I’ve ever encountered.

—

**Gemma’s POV**

A warm bath envelops me like a comforting embrace, instantly lifting my spirits as I curl up on the armchair, flipping through the pages of a new book.

I plan to gift this copy to Jace, a small token of my appreciation—not just for everything he’s done for me, but also for agreeing to hold down the fort for two whole weeks while Cassian and I escape to Nassau. He deserves more than a simple thank-you text; he deserves something meaningful.

My thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind the moment the bathroom door swings open, and Cassian steps out. A towel drapes casually over his shoulder while another one is in hand, his hair damp as he rubs it vigorously.

His skin glows with a flush from the hot water, the muscles of his torso flexing with each movement. He’s clad only in a pair of black sweatpants, hanging low on his hips, the waistband glistening with droplets of water cascading down his chest.

Every inch of him radiates trouble… a kind of trouble I know all too well.

Damn it.

I quickly avert my gaze, but he catches my eye. “What are you reading?” he asks, curiosity piquing in his tone.

Before I can formulate a response, he squints at the book cover. “Python? Since when are you into computer stuff?”

A smirk tugs at my lips, amused by his surprise. “I thought it was time for a change. Maybe I’ll pick up coding and become a legendary hacker… something like, Moonlight 2.0?”