Reborn As Mr. Coldwell's Wife
Chapter 140: Silent Confessions

Chapter 140: Silent Confessions

They drove home in silence, an uneasy quiet that felt suffocating. Ellen sat straight in the passenger seat, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

She stole a glance at Mason from the corner of her eye, but his gaze was fixed on the road ahead, his jaw clenched tight, and his knuckles white around the steering wheel. His face was unreadable, but the way he carried himself said a lot.

He was angry—no, beyond angry.

She wanted to say something, to break the silence that was gnawing at her insides, but the words wouldn’t come. And even if they did, she wasn’t sure what she could say that would make any difference. The truth was, no words would help right now. Mason wasn’t ready to talk, and she wasn’t sure she was either.

Her mind kept drifting back to the balcony, to the way Mason had stepped in, fierce and protective. She’d never seen that look in his eyes before, so intense, so raw.

And then there was Edrick—Edrick with his ridiculous offer, the way he had spoken to her as if he knew her better than anyone. What was his deal, really? She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t wanted it, but the way he had stood there, so sure of himself... Gosh, Ellen couldn’t wrap her head around it.

When they finally pulled up to the house, the tension didn’t ease. Mason parked the car in the driveway, but neither of them moved.

Ellen swallowed, her throat dry as she stared out the windshield at their house. Her pulse quickened again, and she clenched her hands tighter in her lap, nails digging into her palms.

"Mason..." she began softly. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say, but she needed to say something, anything to break through to him.

But Mason didn’t respond. His hands remained gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his body rigid. He kept his eyes fixed on something outside the windshield, something far away and out of reach, as if looking at her would shatter the thin wall he had built around his feelings.

His silence cut through her, and for a brief moment, Ellen wondered if she had pushed him too far. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe there were no words that could fix what had happened.

She swallowed hard, her voice barely above a whisper when she asked, "Are you okay?"

Still, there was no immediate answer. Mason’s jaw tightened, the muscle twitching as if he were wrestling with himself, trying to find the right words. Ellen felt her chest tighten with each second that passed.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mason exhaled slowly. "No," he answered, but there was something off in the way he said it, as if he wasn’t quite sure himself. His fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel. He still didn’t look at her, his gaze distant.

Ellen wasn’t convinced. She turned a bit in her seat, angling trying to face him better.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice a little stronger this time. She wasn’t asking to challenge him; she was asking because she needed to know.

Mason’s grip on the wheel tightened again for a moment, and he finally turned his head to look at her. His eyes met hers, and her breath caught in her throat. He looked at her as if he were fighting a battle within himself, one that he wasn’t sure he could win.

"I’m fine, Ellen," he said quietly, his voice softer now. "But I’m not..." He hesitated, struggling to find the words, his forehead creasing in a way that looked painful.

Mason shifted in his seat, his hands finally leaving the steering wheel as he ran them through his hair, clearly frustrated. He turned back to her, his gaze intense, filled with something Ellen couldn’t quite name.

"I just... I don’t like seeing him near you. I don’t like the way he talks to you, like he knows you better than I do."

Ellen blinked, feeling her heart skip a beat at his confession. She bit her lip, unsure how to respond at first. Then, in a sudden burst of nervous energy, she felt a small grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

She raised an eyebrow at Mason, her voice light, teasing as she tried to break through the heaviness in the air. "Are you jealous?" she asked with a playful grin. She expected him to brush it off, maybe roll his eyes and mutter something about her talking nonsense. That’s what he always did when she tried to tease him.

But Mason didn’t do that this time.

Instead, something flickered in his eyes, something intense and unreadable. Ellen’s grin faltered slightly, the moment lost its lightness as the tension returned. She was about to open her mouth, to say something else, but before she could, Mason moved.

In an instant, he was closer—so close that Ellen found herself holding her breath. She hadn’t even seen him move, but now his face was inches from hers, his eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her heart race. The air in the car felt suddenly warmer, and Ellen could feel the heat radiating from him as his gaze bore into hers.

"What if I am?" His breath was warm against her skin, his presence overwhelming, and Ellen found herself frozen in place, unable to look away

She had expected a sarcastic comment, a lighthearted response, but this—this was something else entirely. His voice, his eyes, the way he was looking at her—it was like he was daring her to say something, to challenge him, to push him even further.

Ellen swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she tried to think of a response. But all she could think about was how close he was, how his breath mixed with hers, and the thrilling spark that lit her up inside.

"What if I am jealous, Ellen?" he murmured. "What are you going to do?"

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