Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 107: Not Crazy

Chapter 107: Not Crazy

Ellen sat in the backyard, her legs tucked beneath her as she nestled into the comfort of the cushioned wicker chair. The garden lights gave off a warm glow, lighting up the greenery and making soft shadows that moved with the breeze. A faint, floral scent lingered in the air, mingling with the fresh aroma of the plants, creating a serene atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the thoughts swirling in her mind.

In her hands, she held a book—a novel she’d picked up at the bookstore after that tense encounter with Gerald. She’d told herself that she needed something to distract her, a good story to lose herself in. But the words on the page were nothing more than a blur.

Her eyes skimmed over the lines, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the day. Ellen sighed, leaning back against the cushioned seat, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the book’s cover.

Gerald, that man was really something.

She thought back to the way he had spoken to her, the audacity in his words, the way he had tried to make her feel like she was the one in the wrong. As if this whole mess was her fault, as if she was the one to blame for everything. The thought made her grip the book a little tighter, the pages crinkling slightly under the pressure.

How dare he come to her like that, pointing fingers and making accusations? Wasn’t it Aubrey who had been the one to cling to the past, unable to let go of a relationship that had ended long before Ellen ever entered the picture? If anyone was to blame for this mess, it was Aubrey, not her. And yet, there was Gerald, acting as though Ellen was the one responsible for all of it. The memory of his words still stung, and the anger she had felt in the café bubbled up inside her once more.

Ellen let out a frustrated breath, setting the book down on her lap. Her eyes drifted to the darkening sky above, where the stars were starting to sparkle. She needed to calm down, to push those thoughts aside and focus on something else. But it was easier said than done. Gerald had a way of getting under her skin, and today had been no exception.

She could still see the way he had glared at her, the tension in his posture, the way his fists had balled up on the table. He had been so angry, so determined to make her feel like she was the one who was out of line. But Ellen knew better. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her, to make her question herself or her marriage to Mason. They were married, they had built a life together, and no amount of guilt-tripping from Gerald was going to change that.

But the idea of Gerald’s interference lingered, a nagging thought that refused to go away. What right did he have to meddle in her life, to come into her home and try to tear apart what she and Mason had built? Ellen’s fingers tapped against the cover of the book, her brow furrowing in thought. Maybe it was time she did something about it, something that would show Gerald she wasn’t someone to mess with.

A small, mischievous smile played on her lips as an idea formed in her mind. Should she "accidentally" put too much salt in his food tomorrow? The thought was tempting, a harmless way to exact a little revenge, to make him pay just a tiny bit for the way he had treated her. It would be so easy—just a little extra sprinkle, and he’d never even know.

The idea of watching him struggle with the overly salted food, trying to maintain his composure, was too amusing to resist. Her laughter bubbled up softly, a quiet chuckle that she didn’t even realize she was making aloud.

Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts. "Please tell me you’re not crazy, laughing alone like that."

Ellen looked up, slightly startled, and saw Mason standing nearby. His expression was soft, with a hint of curiosity as he approached her. He moved with that calm, deliberate grace she had always admired, and when he took a seat beside her, the world seemed to settle into a comfortable stillness.

Ellen shook her head, still smiling as she set the book down on her lap. "Just thinking about something funny," she said, her tone light, though she didn’t elaborate. She wasn’t quite ready to share her mischievous thoughts.

Mason stared at her for a bit, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he could see right through her.

"If you’re not crazy, it means you’re planning something funny," Mason said, his tone light but knowing.

A playful glint in her eye as she responded, "It seems like you know me so well."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "So, it’s true then?"

Ellen’s playful smile faltered slightly as Mason moved closer, his presence suddenly more overwhelming than she’d anticipated. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle scent of his perfume mingling with the evening air. It made her heart skip a beat, a reminder of how close they were, even if she didn’t always know how to navigate it.

She looked at his lips, noticing the way they curved into that small, knowing smile. It sent a shiver down her spine, making her feel both nervous and excited. The proximity made her acutely aware of the tension between them, the unspoken words, and the complicated emotions that seemed to bubble just beneath the surface.

His gaze lingered on her, and she couldn’t help but notice how his eyes seemed to darken just slightly as they dropped to her lips. The air between them thickened, and for a moment, she couldn’t think of anything but the way he looked at her.

The way his voice lowered when he asked, "Do you want a kiss again, Ellen?"