The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 221

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

**Chapter 221**

**Gemma’s POV**

As I approach the door directly across from my apartment, I reach into my bag and pull out the book I had promised Jace. A peculiar feeling washes over me, a sense of unease that makes me feel as though I’m trespassing into a private moment. It’s strange, this sudden self-consciousness, as if I were an uninvited guest in a world that doesn’t belong to me.

When the door swings open, my heart skips a beat, and I nearly fumble the book, my fingers clumsily gripping its spine.

Jace stands there, his figure wrapped in a bathrobe that hangs loosely at his waist, the fabric slightly askew. Steam wafts from his shower, enveloping him in a soft haze that accentuates the contours of his silhouette. His hair, damp and tousled, clings to his forehead, droplets of water tracing a path down his temple.

The moment his eyes lock onto mine, I notice his grip on the doorframe tighten, a subtle tension that makes the air between us feel charged.

My gaze instinctively drops to the floor, a wave of heat creeping up my cheeks. I raise the book, holding it up in front of my face as if it could shield me from the awkwardness of the moment.

“Oh… uh. Sorry. Bad time?” I manage to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.

He blinks at me, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion, a faint crease forming between his brows. “Gemma…?”

I scramble for words, my thoughts a jumbled mess. “I…uhm… actually—”

I pause, realizing how ridiculous I sound. Instead, I take a breath, forcing my tone to adopt a casual demeanor. I extend the book toward him, as if its mere presence could convey all the reasons for my visit.

“I just came to drop this off.”

His fingers reach out, brushing against mine as he takes the book. The coolness of his touch contrasts sharply with the warmth flooding my skin. “Thanks, but you really didn’t have to…”

An awkward silence stretches between us, the sound of water dripping from his hair echoing in the stillness, amplifying the tension.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, instinctively stepping back. “It’s okay. I remembered you mentioning it a while back. I found a copy the other day, so I thought I’d get it for you.”

He nods slowly, and I press my lips into a thin line, offering a polite yet awkward smile, trying to mask the nervous flutter in my stomach.

“I’ll get out of your way then,” I say, turning to leave, but just as I do, a bright, cheerful voice cuts through the air.

“Jace!”

I turn back to see Amanda, her cheeks flushed with excitement, practically bouncing down the hallway toward him, her enthusiasm palpable. She completely overlooks my presence, her focus solely on him.

Feeling the need to create some distance, I take a step back, waving goodbye to Jace before I pivot and make my way down the stairs.

“I came to see if you’d like to join me for dinner tonight. I know this great new place, Cafe Lovelife—”

“No, I have some work today.” His rejection is swift, and before Amanda can respond, he shuts the door, leaving her standing there, stunned and speechless.

I glance back, not wanting to witness the fallout of this awkward exchange, but her footsteps chase me down the steps just as I reach for my phone to hail a cab.

“Wait! You know him, right? Can we talk?” she calls after me, her tone a mix of desperation and hope.

I let out a resigned sigh, recognizing the telltale signs of a crush. This is my chance to help her navigate this complicated situation.

“There’s a coffee shop around the corner. Let’s sit there,” I suggest, leading the way.

Sitting across from me at the small café table, Amanda stirs her latte with such vigor that the frothy foam threatens to spill over the rim.

“I don’t get it. He’s always so cold to me,” she laments, her lips forming a slight pout. “I like him so much, but he acts like I don’t even exist. You know him, don’t you? Can you tell me what’s wrong with me?”

I wrap my hands around my warm cup, contemplating my response, trying to find the right words to soothe her worries.

I follow her inside and nearly freeze in place.

The dining table is a sight to behold, set with flickering candles and tall candelabras that cast a warm glow over scattered rose petals adorning the white linen. Dishes are arranged with meticulous care, and the ambiance is almost enchanting.

Cassian occupies the head of the table, gesturing toward the seat directly opposite him. “You’re late.”

I blink, still attempting to process the scene unfolding before me. “What… is all this?”

Before he can respond, I find myself offering an explanation. “Did you have a guest who didn’t show up?”

“Mrs. Blackwell, all of these dishes were prepared according to your preferences by Mr. Blackwell himself. He learned how to make them specifically for you—”

The maid interjects, defending Cassian, earning herself a sharp glare from him.

“Chloe!” he snaps, his tone firm yet not unkind, and she bows her head, retreating with a look of mild embarrassment.

I remain rooted to the spot, staring at him, my curiosity piqued. “Will you please tell me what’s going on?”

“What?” he asks, a hint of confusion in his voice.

“You really don’t remember?”

I shake my head, bewildered. “No, just say it—”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

His words hang in the air, sending ripples of surprise through my soul. “Valentine’s…? Since when do you care about this kind of holiday?”

He offers me a faint smile, but his eyes remain serious. “I remember you once said that holidays only matter if you spend them with someone who matters. Gifts, dinners, whatever… it’s not about that. Just having a meal together is enough. So, Gemma, will you share this meal with me?”