Whoops, His Mistress Crashed Our Wedding. Mine Didn't novel Chapter 194

Chapter 194

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Dinner ended in a blur of laughter, clattering plates, and Nanna declaring she was “too old for this many loud grandchildren.” Everyone scattered after that, some toward the lounge, others toward the backyard, the rest drifting upstairs. I waited. Let the noise fade. Pretended to help with dishes long enough for the hallway to clear before making a quiet dash for the stairs. Almost made it.

“Mace, wait.”

His voice stopped me cold.

I turned, halfway up the steps, finding Elliot standing at the bottom. The dim light from the hall caught the edge of his jaw, the shadows under his eyes. He looked exhausted, and not just from the day.

“I don’t want to do this right now,” I said, my voice coming out sharper than I meant.

“Please.” He took a step up, slowly and deliberately. “Just hear me out.”

I opened my mouth to tell him no, but the sound of footsteps and laughter carried up from the entryway, our siblings, of course, still arguing about who’d cheated at cards.

Elliot noticed too. His jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward the sound before coming back to me. “Not here.”

I hesitated, heart hammering, then exhaled through my nose. “Fine. Two minutes.”

He nodded once, like he’d just been handed a lifeline, and followed as I turned down the hall.

Inside my room, I shut the door quietly, leaning back against it before I could think better of it. He hovered by the edge of the desk, hands shoved into his pockets, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be there.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint laughter downstairs, muffled through the walls.

“Alright,” I said finally, folding my arms. “You’ve got two minutes.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the movement restless. “I just… I hate that I scared you today. I wasn’t thinking. When I saw that guy near you, something in me just…snapped. I can’t explain it, Mace. I just know it wasn’t about control, or thinking you can’t handle yourself. I know you can.”

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to throw something sharp and final between us to make this easier. But looking at him now, so raw and unsure, I couldn’t.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just can’t stand the thought of anyone treating you like you’re less than what you are.”

I shifted my weight, fingers digging into my arms to keep myself steady. “You don’t get to decide who sees me, Elliot.”

“I know,” he said, nodding quickly. “I know. I just-” He stopped, laughed softly, bitterly. “I don’t always know how to do this right. I mess it up. I lead with my feelings when I should just…” He gestured helplessly between us. “Talk.”

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