The Rejected Luna (Avery and Kaden) novel Chapter 139

Chapter 139

Steven’s handsome face clouded over, his eyes flashing with a sharp warning. “Zephyra!” he called out, his voice tense.

“Enough!” I shot back, frustration bubbling up inside me. “You wanted me to take care of you—that’s what this whole charade has been about. And now that I’m actually doing it, you’re acting like this? I thought you’d be satisfied with a little drama, but no, you’re dead serious. I just don’t get you. It’s like you have a dozen different personalities, none of which are happy. I’m done. Someone else can handle your mood swings.”

Ignoring the storm brewing in his eyes, I turned toward a terrified Gordon standing nearby. “Gordon, you can have this porridge.”

“Mrs. Lancaster,” Gordon stammered, his face pale with unease, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Either you eat it or throw it away,” I said firmly. “But not a single spoonful of it will touch Steven’s lips.”

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed the rest of the porridge and marched back to my room. As I ate, my stomach finally felt satisfied, but my mind was still racing with anger and confusion. What was wrong with Steven? If he didn’t want me to care for him, why had he used his recovery as a bargaining chip? And now that I was doing exactly what he wanted, he still looked unhappy. Was it that the more eager I was for him to get better, the angrier he became?

The more I dwelled on it, the more irritated I grew. Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I opened it, still simmering with resentment, only to find Gordon standing there with a bright, almost triumphant smile.

“Gordon?”

“Mrs. Lancaster, that porridge was absolutely delicious. Honestly, I couldn’t get enough. Is there any more?”

***

With Steven still unwell, the business deal was postponed indefinitely. I spent the next day lounging in my room, restless and bored. Rachel was busy with her own affairs, Uncle Julian was offline, and I didn’t want to trouble Horace, who was likely preoccupied with his treatment and budding singing career.

Feeling trapped by boredom, I decided to venture out the following day. Gordon, worried that I might get robbed, insisted on accompanying me. He took on the role of my personal tour guide, carrying my shopping bags filled with local snacks I planned to bring back for Uncle Julian and Rachel. It was all I could afford, but it felt meaningful.

On the way back to the hotel, Gordon and I laughed and chatted easily. I was surprised to discover he wasn’t as stiff or serious as I’d initially thought. He was a self-proclaimed foodie who couldn’t cook but loved exploring new restaurants on weekends. He knew all the best places to eat in the city. Now that he knew I could cook, he practically begged to be my neighbor.