She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 93

(Natasha)

Chase moved out three days after I did.

I found out in an unexpected phone call from Eleanor, who mentioned it with the careful neutrality of a woman who has opinions she’s decided not to share.

I guess there’s a first time for everything.

He's taken a furnished apartment near St. Jude's.

Top of the line, obviously. It’s Chase and he’s used to luxury.

He told Eleanor he needs to be closer to the hospital for Lily’s appointments.

I didn’t ask, but Eleanor made a point of mentioning that Sonia is still at the estate.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry when I heard that, so I just didn’t comment.

My first supervised visit with Lily takes place at St Jude’s, since it’s a monitoring day.

They’re worried about her blood pressure, which has apparently been slightly elevated all week, and tell me to stay there so they can repeat it later.

Chase showed up around ten pm, and fortunately for him didn’t try to tell me my time was up.

He slumped in a chair while I walked the corridor with Lily, who was past exhausted and had arrived somewhere on the other side of it.

Right now she's limp against my shoulder, not quite asleep, not quite awake, making small aggrieved sounds at intervals.

"They’re happy with the last reading. We can go," Chase says, falling into step beside me.

I look at the exit. Then at the fluorescent corridor stretching ahead of me.

It’s after one in the morning and I’m so tired the hallway seems to be spinning.

"I can't drive," I say.

Not a complaint, just a fact.

"I'm too tired. I’ll have to call an Uber."

He doesn't hesitate. "You can stay at the apartment. There’s a guest room."

I look at him, and I’m sure everything I’m thinking must be written very plainly on my face.

Less than a week ago he kicked me out. Now he’s inviting me to stay over.

"It's one in the morning," he says. "You're not driving forty minutes across the city in this state. It’s dangerous."

He's right.

I glare at him and follow him to his car, with Lily still hugged to my chest.

The apartment is on the fourteenth floor, polished and expensive and almost aggressively composed.

Marble in the kitchen.

Tailored furniture.

A view that would sell the place before you even step inside.

But there’s nothing personal here.

No photographs, no mess, no signs of history.

It looks like a place kept under control rather than lived in.

It looks, I think, like Chase when he doesn’t want anyone guessing what’s underneath.

He takes Lily while I wander a little.

The second bedroom has already been prepared, bed made properly, extra pillows in place.

I register it without commenting.

He was planning to offer this eventually. He just hadn't said so yet.

I’m tired of being confused by everything he does.

Lily goes down without protest, which is the first easy thing that's happened all day.

We stand on either side of the cot in the dim room and wait to be sure she’s asleep.

The silence between us isn’t hostile, but it’s not exactly comfortable either.

I’m overly aware of the fact that we’re completely alone here.

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