The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210

“I think we’ve already talked about this,” she interjected, a hint of

exasperation in her voice. She made a face–not quite a pout but close

enough that it startled him, almost as if she was mocking him. The

playful expression was so at odds with the subject at hand that he

was taken aback, and once again, the stark difference in their ages hit

him. She was so much younger, almost a decade, and moments like

this made it all the more apparent.

“Yes,” he replied, trying to steady his tone, “but I’ve been thinking

about it, and I believe I’ve come up with a reasonable solution-”

“So have I, actually,” Isla interrupted, her voice tinged with nervous

energy. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, rubbing against the faded fabric of her jeans as though trying to calm herself. “And I wanted to

talk to you about it. I… I have a trust fund, but I can’t access it until I

turn 21 or get married. So, I was wondering if you could loan me some

money? Just enough to help me get back on my feet. I’ll pay you back

once I can access the trust, I promise.”

Her words tumbled out in a rush, and she finished with a nervous

glance in his direction, clearly uncertain about how he would

respond. Graham’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t just annoyed–he was

intrigued, though not in the way she might have hoped. He leaned

back slightly, crossing his arms as he regarded her with a mix of

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Chapter 210

curiosity and frustration.

“And how exactly do you plan to get back on your feet?” he asked, his voice sharp enough to make her shift uncomfortably in her chair. “Scrubbing more toilets? Washing dishes?” The words came out

harsher than he’d intended, but the memory of finding her in that

squalid basement–her hands bruised and raw from overwork, her

body too thin from skipping meals–flashed through his mind. His

throat tightened at the thought, the panic and pain he’d felt then still

fresh and raw.

“No.” Isla’s tone was firm, and the sharpness in her eyes made it clear

that she was growing tired of his insistence. She gave him a look–a

deliberate, defiant glare that would have been enough to silence most

men. But for Graham, that look didn’t extinguish the fire simmering

within him. If anything, it only fueled it.

Her intent stare sent a strange, conflicting surge through him. His

blood boiled with a mixture of irritation and something far more

primal. At the same time, his body betrayed him, heat pooling low

and insistent. Adjusting his position on the chair to conceal his

reaction, Graham tried to temper the intensity he was feeling. But

even as he shifted, a small, forbidden thrill coursed through him,

awakening a realization that shocked him to his core.

What he felt for her wasn’t wrong. Not anymore. Soon, she would be

his in every way that mattered–his to protect, his to cherish, his to

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possess. The thought was both exhilarating and grounding, an anchor

against the chaos that had consumed his life until now.

“You won’t have to worry about money ever again, Isla,” he

murmured, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and steady. His

hand moved toward hers, resting lightly over her small palm where it

lay on the table. He told himself it was a gesture of reassurance, but

in truth, it was a test–an attempt to gauge her reaction, to see if the

invisible connection he felt every time they were close was something

she felt too.

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