The Unwanted Marriage: Dion and Faye's Story (The Windsors) by Catharina Maura

Author:Catharina Maura [Maura, Catharina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirty-Three

Faye

I’m in partial disbelief as Lauren, our housekeeper, leads Raven into the living room. She smiles at me as I jump to my feet, pulling my fingers away from the piano.

Dion and I have existed in our own little bubble since getting married. For the first few weeks, we’re exempt from having to attend the usually mandatory weekly family dinner with everyone else, and I’ve been beyond grateful for it. It’s kept me from being overwhelmed while adjusting to our marriage, but I knew the reprieve wouldn’t last. Raven dropping by is likely the first indication of it.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she says, her tone apologetic. “I called earlier, but I couldn’t reach you, so I thought I’d stop by to see if you were home.”

“Not at all,” I reassure her, despite my nerves. I’ve never been alone with her before, and I’m not sure how to act. “Please, come in.”

She nods and glances around the living room, her eyes sparkling. “Your home’s interior is truly stunning,” she says, a hint of awe in her voice. “Who designed it?”

I’m lost for words. Is she attempting to flatter me, or is her praise genuine? “Um, I did.”

Raven’s eyes widen. “You didn’t hire an interior designer?”

I shake my head. “Dion said I could do it myself if I wanted to, so I did.”

“Wow,” she murmurs. “Ares and I had our house renovated not too long ago, but it isn’t anywhere near as nice as this. Did you study interior design?”

I shake my head, uncomfortable. “I did look up some basics, but mostly, this was all me. I’d love to take a course someday, though.”

Raven looks around excitedly, and just as she parts her lips to ask more questions, Lauren walks in with cups of tea for both of us, along with a platter of cookies. She grins at Raven. “Your grandmother sent these over for Faye,” she murmurs. “I have successfully kept that tidbit of information from Sierra.”

I watch as the famous model swipes a cookie from the plate and shoves it into her mouth, crumbs falling all over her clothes. She catches me looking and slaps a hand over her mouth, soft laughter escaping her lips.

“I’m sorry,” she says once she’s done chewing. “The cookies… it’s a thing. Sierra and I have been fighting over these cookies for years, so now when I see them, I instinctively just grab them. I’ve gotten used to having to be quicker than she is. You’ll find out soon enough. Once Sierra learns you’ve got cookies, she’ll come knocking.”

I stare at her wide-eyed and push the plate toward her. “You can have all of them,” I tell her awkwardly. I love the cookies, but I’m not sure I love them as much as she does.

She bursts out laughing and grabs her bag. “I’m going to send Sierra a picture. I know she’s stuck in a meeting right now, so she’ll be fuming. It’ll be fun.”

My heart aches as I watch her, a new kind of longing rushing through me.

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