The End of a Marriage (Colette and Matheo) novel Chapter 307

Chapter 307

CHAPTER 60

Dinner that night was a tense affair

–

at least for Graham.

Marco, on the other hand, was in rare form. He was all smiles and charm, holding court at the head of the table like he owned the place, spinning one story

after another about the fascinating people he’d met and the oh–so–incredible places he’d been. He played his part well the worldly adventurer, the

effortless entertainer and Isla, despite the iron weight of her husband’s glare, managed a polite smile here and there.

But Graham? He didn’t play along. He sat like a storm waiting to break, his jaw tight, his arms folded as Marco’s endless prattle grated on his nerves like

sandpaper.

And then Marco, always the snake, struck.

“Graham,” he said with that easy, smirking tone, “you really ought to take better care of your wife. Spend more time with her instead of…” He paused just

long enough for the insult to take shape in everyone’s mind before finishing with a shrug. “Instead of playing in the mud at that construction site.”

The words hung in the air, and Graham saw red.

“And let Thornfield Manor fall into ruin like all your brilliant business ventures?” His voice was calm, but the bite was unmistakable. The satisfaction of

landing the blow flashed in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair with a slow, mocking smile. “What was the last one again? The billion–dollar idea? Oh no,

wait-” He snapped his fingers like he was trying to remember. “All your ideas were billion–dollar ideas. Funny how none of them ever actually worked out.”

The room went silent, and the color in Marco’s face darkened. But Graham wasn’t finished. Not yet.

“Let’s see… There was that company in Manchester, wasn’t there? Folded in less than a year. And the factory in Texas? Never even got off the ground. Oh-

and my personal favorite–the luxury hotel that never saw a single guest.” He clicked his tongue with feigned sympathy. “You’re quite the visionary, Marco.

Pity your vision’s never made anyone a dime.”

Marco’s smile slipped, but Graham wasn’t fooled. He knew his cousin too well – and if there was one thing more dangerous than Marco’s charm, it was his

silence. A snake coiling just before the strike.

And sure enough, when Marco smiled again, it was sharp and ugly.

“Isla, darling…” Marco’s voice softened, but the malice in it was unmistakable as he turned his attention to her. Graham’s muscles tensed but before he

could stop it, the words were already falling from Marco’s lips. “I really, really hope you don’t fail in your… wifely duties.” His smile widened, cruel and

gleaming. “Because, believe me, Graham hates failure. And you wouldn’t want to face the wrath of a man like that.”

The color drained from Isla’s face so fast that Graham thought for a second she might faint. Her fingers curled into her lap, her breath caught, and her eyes flickered toward Graham with something close to fear.

Because Marco had struck deeper than he could possibly have known.

It didn’t matter that he was just trying to get a rise out of Graham because the words were true. Graham did hate failure. And Isla, she knew she’d been failing him since the day they were married.

She couldn’t give him what he wanted. Couldn’t give him her touch, her warmth, the intimacy he craved. And though he never said it outright, she could feel his disappointment

his frustration

–

every time he looked at her.

And maybe she did deserve his anger. Maybe she was the failure Marco had just painted her to be.

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7:49 pm

Chapter 307

The silence at the table stretched like a wire, the air thick with unspoken accusations and wounds too raw to name. And when Graham finally spoke, his voice was so low and cold it sent a shiver down Isla’s spine.

“Marco, I think it’s time you remembered exactly whose house you’re in.”

The silence after Graham’s warning stretched across the dining room like a taut wire, and for once, Marco didn’t have a comeback. He sat there, his easy smile frozen and his eyes flashing with the first hints of true anger. But Graham didn’t care his attention had already shifted entirely to Isla.

–

She sat still, her head lowered, her face pale and drawn. The laughter that had been so bright only hours ago was gone, replaced by a sadness that made his chest ache. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t even looking up.

And in that moment, Graham knew exactly where the blame lay.

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