The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 193

Nathalie nodded, “You take care, too.”

“I will,” Freddy replied, his voice gentle.

Before she could say anything else, the bedroom door opened and Lance walked in. He had an apron tied around his waist, and his eyes landed right on her.

“Nathalie, you're up. Come eat,” he said, his tone calm but clear enough for anyone on the phone to overhear.

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then Freddy said, “Alright, I’ll let you go. Let’s have dinner together another time.”

“Sure.”

Nathalie hung up, not sparing Lance a glance. She slid out of bed, grabbed her clothes for a quick change, and walked straight to the bathroom. Lance noticed but didn’t say a word.

After her shower, feeling refreshed, she headed downstairs. The dining table was already set, food waiting. Lance was on the sofa, busy texting on his phone.

She barely glanced his way and instead made a beeline for the front door.

“Nathalie,” Lance called, seeing her about to leave.

She sped up, but the moment she opened the door, she came face to face with two bodyguards standing outside. Her expression turned cold.

“What’s this supposed to mean?” she snapped, spinning back to glare at Lance, her eyes burning with anger.

“All I want is for you to have dinner with me. You don’t have to say a word, but you need to eat,” Lance replied, looking completely unbothered.

Nathalie’s hands clenched tight. Clearly, he’d expected her to bolt, so he’d posted guards to keep her in. Typical.

Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d only be hurting herself if she skipped dinner out of spite. In the end, she sat at the table and picked up her chopsticks, starting to eat in silence.

Lance watched, the frostiness in his features melting just a little. Even if she was only here because he’d forced her to stay.

Nathalie stared down at her plate the whole time, not showing any emotion. It stung more than he wanted to admit.

Lance glanced over at Nathalie. “Yeah, we’re here together,” he said, his voice softening a little.

Madonna’s reply was layered, part hopeful, part exhausted. “I just wish you two could get along. Would save me so much worry. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. Treat Nathalie well.”

“I will.”

He hung up.

Looking across the table at her, he asked, “How’s the food?”

“Terrible,” Nathalie answered flatly. She dropped her chopsticks—now that she wasn’t hungry anymore, she didn’t bother being polite. “Your cooking is seriously awful.”

Lance froze, stunned into silence.

He looked down at her barely touched plate and suddenly found himself second-guessing everything. Was he really that bad?