CHAPTER 2: A Glance Too Long8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡsgnBigFCX5
8Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ3befZAjKrj
Ethan’s POV
He hated mornings.
Not because of the light. Not even because of the silence. But because mornings reminded him of what this house used to feel like when his mother was alive—warmth in every corner, fresh pan de sal on the table, and the soft hum of her voice calling his name.
Now, it smelled like imported perfume and the pretense of domestic bliss.
Janina.
He hadn’t expected her to last this long. When his father married her just a few months after the funeral, Ethan had expected her to run. Or wither. Maybe both.
But she didn’t.
She stayed.
She folded linens. Greeted the staff with a rehearsed smile. Organized dinner parties. Kissed his father’s cheek like a dutiful wife. Slept in the master bedroom like she belonged there.
She didn’t.
But sometimes, she looked like she could.
This morning, when she stood by the music room door, her blouse soft around her shoulders, lips parted as if she wanted to say something—Ethan felt something shift again.
He hated how aware he was of her.
The way her scent lingered in the hallway.
The way her eyes dimmed when Gregory kissed her forehead.
The way she flinched when someone mentioned Beatrice.
He told himself it was pity. Maybe resentment.
But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just that.
She wasn’t like Cathy—his girlfriend, his anchor. Cathy was sunshine. Familiar. Clean.
Janina was dusk. Dangerous. And when she looked at him for just a second too long, he swore something inside him dared to burn.
He opened his phone and checked Cathy’s message.
Good morning, baby. Thinking of you. Coffee soon?
He stared at it for a few seconds before replying:
Sure. Just need to clear my head first.
He pocketed his phone and walked toward the poolside veranda. The house was quiet again. Too quiet.
And there she was. Already seated with her half-full cup of coffee, her knees drawn to her chest on the rattan chair like she didn’t belong to a man twice her age. She looked small. Real.
“You don’t eat breakfast?” he asked casually.
Janina blinked at him. “I’m not really hungry.”
“Figured.” He leaned against the post. “You look… thin.”
She tilted her head. “That’s not a compliment, you know.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
Their eyes met. And for a moment, the entire house held its breath.
“What do you want, Ethan?” she asked softly.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I just like watching you try to hold yourself together.”
“That’s cruel.”
“Maybe.”
She stood up slowly, clutching her mug like it was armor.
“You don’t scare me,” she said.
“You should.”
Then, without another word, she walked past him—deliberately this time, her shoulder grazing his in return.
And Ethan? He didn’t move.
He just closed his eyes and listened to the sound of her footsteps fading into the hall…
…wishing they wouldn’t.
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