Chapter 250

Hannah

A few days had passed since the incident at the waterfall, and life was slowly returning to some semblance of normalcy. Well, as normal as it could be with Noah insisting I stay by his side at all times.

It was both comforting and suffocating, but I understood his concern. And I would have been lying if I’d said that a small part of me was flattered he cared enough to keep me close.

Eventually, the sling was removed from Noah’s arm, and his shoulder healed. My scrapes and bruises healed too, although the terror of what happened still plagued me. I kept waking up at night in a cold sweat, dreaming about Jake and his men throwing me over the waterfall. But, of course, I didn’t tell Noah that. In fact, I didn’t tell him much of anything. Nor did I tell him about the pregnancy, although I knew I should.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to; it was that every time I tried, I just couldn’t. Maybe I was too scared.

One morning, as we sat at the breakfast table, the room was silent save for the occasional clinking of cutlery. I took a sip of my coffee, glancing out the window at the garden flowers. Spring was finally here, and I welcomed the fresh start—longer days, warm afternoons beneath my favorite tree.

But spring also meant the end of my eating disorder campaign was approaching. My mind had been preoccupied for days, considering how best to conclude the campaign with a bang. Three weeks after the campaign ended, our divorce would be final. And despite everything, our love had long since died; I couldn’t stay married to him, even though I once saw him as my hero. I needed to end this campaign on a high note, for my own sake.

“Hannah?”

Noah’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I blinked, turning to him. “Sorry?” I muttered.

He pushed the creamer closer. “I was asking if you wanted some creamer.”

“Oh… yes,” I said, shaking my head as I poured some into my coffee. “Sorry.”

“You seem to be thinking deeply,” he remarked.

I blinked again, a little taken aback by his perceptiveness. Just because we’d spent the past few days together didn’t mean we talked a lot.

“I… am,” I admitted, shrugging as I sipped my coffee. “I’m thinking about the end of my eating disorder campaign. It’s coming up in a week and a half.”

“That soon?” He averted his gaze to butter his toast. “Do you have anything special in mind?”

“Actually, yes. I was thinking of organizing a charity gala. With the facility almost ready to start building, I think it would be nice to raise one last burst of funds before it begins.”

Noah chewed his toast slowly, considering my words. I couldn’t deny the tiny flutter in my chest. “That sounds like a good idea. We’ll present it to the board tomorrow.”

My eyes widened. “The… board?”

He nodded. “I’m going to be by your side for a while, so I might as well help you with the planning,” he said. “The board might have some ideas as well.”

“Oh.” I swallowed hard and set down my coffee, suddenly feeling sheepish. “I’ll put together a presentation, then.”

The boardroom was intimidating, with its long mahogany table and stern-faced executives. The large windows offered a view of the mansion grounds, dotted with groundskeepers and gardeners preparing for spring and summer.

Clearing my throat nervously, I took my seat beside Noah. His board—five people, not including us—stared expectantly. It was rare for me to attend these meetings; in fact, I wasn’t even sure if I had ever attended one of Noah’s board meetings before.

“Luna Hannah has a proposal she would like to present,” Noah announced, gesturing to me.

All eyes turned to me, and I felt my heart rate spike. But I had prepared for this. I stood, straightening my shoulders and clicking to the first slide of my presentation.