The Don Tore Up Our Divorce (Gemma and Cassian) novel Chapter 435

Chapter 435
Gemma's POV

It's low building, no elevator, just three flights of stairs that now feel like the climb to a fortress. Cassian walks beside me in an unnecessary gesture of leftover chivalry. 

We stop at my door and the lock clicks before I push the door open, and flick on a light. 

When I turn, his tall silhouette is still there in the doorway. He’s waiting. For what? An invitation? A final word?

I sigh. I don’t have the energy for a prolonged goodbye on the threshold. Without closing the door, I walk past him, and into the kitchen.

I hear the soft creak of the floorboard behind me. I pull a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and turn to find him just inside the doorway now, one foot over the threshold and a, hopeful grin on his face.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice flat.

He looks startled, like he was caught doing something illegal. He quickly pulls his foot back, retreating to the proper side of the doorway. 

I hold out the bottle.

“Thanks for bringing me home. Take this for the road. Goodnight.”

Before he can respond, I push the door shut. I lean against the cool wood for a second, and hear his quiet footsteps retreating down the hall, then the faint sound of the main door downstairs closing. 

I quickly take a hot shower to wash off the smell of sulfur, hospital antiseptic, and lingering panic. Wrapped in a bathing robe, my hair dripping, I pad into the living room, reaching for the hair dryer. 

Knock knock!

Irritation flares, knowing it is Cassian who must have come back. Why can’t he just let it be? 

I march to the door with annoyance and swing it open. 

“Why are you back—”

The words die. It’s not Cassian.

Jace stands on my doorstep, breathing hard. He’s drenched in sweat, his shirt clinging to his chest, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looks like he’s run a marathon. 

I’m so stunned I just stare for a second before my manners kick in. I step aside wordlessly, and he walks in. 

“Why are you so sweaty?” I ask, closing the door. 

I go to the kitchen, pour a glass of cold water, and bring it to him. He’s standing in the middle of my living room, looking lost. I gesture to the sofa and sit beside him, leaving a careful space between us.

“Did you drop Molly off?” 

He holds the glass but doesn’t drink. His expression is deadly serious. He nods. “Yeah.”

The single word is heavy, and I sense the storm underneath it. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.”

The confirmation lets me release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Today must have been terrifying for all of you. Especially Molly, I’ll check on her tomorrow…”

Clink! 

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