When Love Finds Its Way Back (Cassienne and Dreston) novel Chapter 137

Chapter One Hundred And Thirty–Seven: I Waited For Five Years.

The house was too quiet when they returned.

Emily was staying with Abigail, which meant there was no performance required tonight. No pretending. And no smiling for anyone.

Just them alone.

Cassienne stepped out of the shower first, steam still clinging to her skin. She wore a soft ivory silk nightdress that flowed around her body in a way that made it impossible to ignore she was a woman.

Not a wife. Not a CTO. Not NULLWRAITH.

Just a woman.

She paused in the bedroom, towel in hand, drying the ends of her hair.

Dreston walked out of the bedroom moments later, water still glistening on his collarbone. He had used another bathroom. He wore loose charcoal lounge pants and nothing else. His hair was damp, darker than usual, curling slightly at the ends.

For a second, neither spoke. The silence wasn’t calm. It was loaded.

Cassienne turned to him. Her eyes blazed. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice wasn’t loud. But it carried weight.

Dreston didn’t pretend not to understand. “Do what?”

“At dinner.”

She faced him fully now.

“You humiliated me in front of your family.” 1

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t humiliate you.”

“You told them I wouldn’t accept your love. You made it sound like I’m the villain.”

“You are rejecting me.”

Her breath caught.

“That is not the point.”

He took a step closer. “Then what is the point, Cassienne?”

She let out a shaky laugh. Not amused. But hurt. “The point is… you don’t get to suddenly love me now.”

His brows pulled together. “What does that mean?”

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Her eyes glistened.

“It means that for five years, Dreston… five years… you didn’t even look at me.”

He flinched. And she stepped forward.

“You don’t even know the color of my panties.”

The words came out before she could stop them. And the room went still.

Dreston’s face changed. Not anger, but with pain.

“You don’t know how I like my hair when I sleep. You don’t know what perfume I wear. You don’t know how I take my tea when I’m upset.”

Her voice trembled now.

“And now you stand in front of everyone and talk about babies? About love?”

The hit landed. And he swallowed hard.

“I stayed married to you for five years,” she continued. “And you never once reached for me.”

He finally spoke, voice low.

“You think I didn’t want to?”

She froze.

“You think I didn’t fight myself every night?”

Her chest rose sharply.

“You said you didn’t touch me because you didn’t want to hurt me more.”

“I didn’t,” he replied.

“You already were hurting me!”

Her voice cracked. The truth hung between them. He moved closer again.

“I was a coward.”

The admission was quiet and honest.

“I thought I was protecting something that didn’t even exist anymore. And in doing that… I lost you.”

Her breathing softened.

“But now?” she asked. “Now you suddenly love me?”

“Yes.”

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The answer came instantly. There was no hesitation in it.

“Yes.”

He stepped into her space now.

“I love you, Cassienne. Not because you’re famous. Not because you’re brilliant. Not because the world wants you.”

His voice deepened.

“I love you because when you laugh, I forget how to breathe. Because when you’re angry, I still think you’re beautiful. Because when you were in that lab today and looked at me like you were afraid to trust me…”

He lifted his hand slowly and cupped her face.

“It broke me.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t trust you,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“And I like Corren.”

The words were soft. But sharp.

His jaw clenched.

“I know that too.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m done pretending.”

He leaned closer.

“And because I can’t keep watching you belong to someone else.”

The air shifted between them, sending something fragile and dangerous.

Her hands trembled where they rested against his chest.

“You’re angry because I won’t accept your love,” she said quietly.

“I’m angry because you won’t give me a chance to prove it.”

Their faces were inches apart now. The tension was unbearable.

Her eyes dropped to his lips. His breath brushed her skin.

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“You’re doing everything now,” she whispered. “Everything I begged for back then.”

“I know.”

“And I hate that I still want it.”

That confession snapped something out in him, and he kissed her.

This time, it wasn’t soft, not careful, but hungry. Five years of restraint collided at once.

She gasped against his mouth, but she didn’t pull away. Her hands slid up his shoulders.

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