The Wife He Never Meant to Love (Lila and Damon) novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Lila woke to an empty bed.

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For a brief second, she reached across the sheets, expecting to feel Damon’s warmth still lingering there. Instead, her fingers met cool cotton.

She blinked up at the ceiling.

The air in the room was still crisp from the temperature Damon had adjusted the night before. She had been certain she would freeze to death under that merciless setting.

Yet here she was.

Alive.

Lila let out a slow exhale, pushing herself upright. The silence of the room felt different without him-less suffocating, but strangely less secure.

She slipped out of bed and headed for the shower. Warm water cascaded over her skin, washing away the chill that had clung to her bones. As steam filled the bathroom, her thoughts drifted back to the previous night— the smug look on Damon’s face, the way he had pulled her back into his arms.

She shook her head.

Impossible man.

After dressing neatly for the day-soft blouse, tailored skirt, minimal makeup-Lila gathered her things. She had a teaching schedule at the university that morning, and punctuality was something she never compromised.

When she reached the dining room, the scent of breakfast greeted her first.

Margaret and Richard were already seated at the long table, quietly eating.

Margaret looked up immediately when she noticed Lila.

“Good morning, dear,” she said warmly. “Come, join us.”

Lila offered a polite smile and took the seat across from them. A housekeeper quickly placed a fresh plate in front of her.

“Damon already left early,” Margaret added casually, dabbing her lips with a napkin. “He had an early meeting.”

Lila nodded, focusing on pouring herself a glass of juice.

“He asked me to take care of you,” Margaret continued, her tone gentle but observant.

Lila paused for half a second.

11:45 Mon, May 4

Chapter 34

“Take care of me?” she repeated softly.

:

“Yes,” Margaret said with a knowing smile. “He was quite insistent.”

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Richard chuckled quietly from behind his newspaper. “The boy pretends to be cold, but he worries.”

A faint warmth spread across Lila’s chest-unexpected and unwelcome.

“I can take care of myself,” she replied, though her voice lacked its usual firmness.

Margaret’s eyes softened. “Of course you can. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone who wants to.”

Lila lowered her gaze to her plate.

The memory of Damon dragging her back into his arms resurfaced, along with the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek.

She told herself it meant nothing.

And yet, as she finished her breakfast and prepared to leave for the university, she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that before stepping out into his busy world.

Damon had thought of her first.

By the time Lila arrived at the university, the calm of the morning had dissolved into the familiar rhythm of responsibility.

Lecture halls.

Attendance sheets.

Endless questions.

She moved from one classroom to another with quiet efficiency, heels clicking against polished floors. Her students listened attentively as she explained theories, wrote notes across the whiteboard, and challenged them with sharp, thoughtful questions.

Between her teaching schedule and her own masteral degree classes, the day pressed heavily on her shoulders.

By late afternoon, exhaustion clung to her like a second skin.

Yet-

In the middle of reviewing a research paper, Lila found her lips curving upward.

Unbidden.

She paused.

Why was she smiling?

11:46 Mon, May 4

Chapter 34

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The image surfaced before she could stop it-Margaret’s gentle voice saying Damon had asked her to take care of Lila. The idea that, in the rush of his early meeting, he had still remembered her.

He had worried.

First thing in the morning.

Her smile deepened unconsciously, stretching from ear to ear as she gathered her notes.

Then she froze.

“What are you doing?” she muttered under her breath.

She lifted her hand and lightly slapped her own cheek.

The sharp sting startled her back to reality.

“We do not like filthy dogs,” she whispered to herself firmly as she walked down the corridor. “We want a clean, gentle dog.”

Her chin lifted with determination.

Damon, with his smug smiles and overbearing warmth, was nothing but trouble. Unpredictable. Arrogant. Entirely too aware of his effect on her.

Filthy dog.

She adjusted the strap of her bag and straightened her posture.

She had goals. Standards. Control.

And yet-

As she entered her next class and placed her materials on the desk, the faintest trace of a smile returned to her lips.

No matter how much she tried to deny it, the thought lingered stubbornly in her mind:

Filthy or not…

That dog had remembered her.

By the time Lila stepped out of the university building, it was already nine in the evening.

The campus was quieter now, lights glowing softly against the dark sky. The long day weighed heavily on her shoulders-lectures, meetings, her masteral class. She was exhausted.

But satisfied.

She had fulfilled her responsibilities well.

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Chapter 34

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A familiar black car was already waiting near the entrance. As soon as she approached, the driver stepped out and opened the rear door for her.

“Good evening, Ma’am,” he greeted respectfully. “Madam Margaret sent me to fetch you. Your car has already been taken back to the estate.”

Lila paused briefly, then nodded. “Thank you.”

She slid into the back seat, the door closing with a quiet thud that sealed her away from the night air. The car began moving smoothly through the dimly lit streets.

Lila leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

For a moment, she allowed herself to simply breathe.

But her thoughts, stubborn as ever, drifted to Damon.

Margaret sending a car.

Her own vehicle already returned to the estate.

The careful arrangements.

Was that his doing?

Or was it merely coincidence?

Her brows knit slightly.

Maybe his actions last night-this morning-were nothing more than performance again.

Of course.

They were living under his parents’ watchful eyes. Every small gesture could be interpreted. Every interaction measured.

Damon was intelligent. Strategic.

Acting caring would cost him nothing. It would make him appear attentive. Responsible. The ideal husband.

“That must be it,” she whispered faintly to herself.

Performance.

There was no other explanation.

And yet…

In the darkness behind her closed eyelids, she could still feel the way he had pulled her closer when she shivered. There had been no audience. No reason to pretend in the privacy of their room.