Chapter 70

Aurora helped Grandma Grace move back home from the house she’d been renting from Warner.
Grandma Grace had finally pulled herself out of her grief.
Wanting to show her gratitude, she invited Warner over for dinner.
Warner gladly accepted.
Aurora did the shopping, and Warner arrived early to help with the cooking.
They were just finishing up when the doorbell rang.
Aurora untied her apron and went to answer it, only to be surprised by the sight of Daniel. He stood there with a suitcase in hand, his clothes wrinkled from travel, exhaustion etched deep into his brow. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ
“Aurora,” he rasped out her name.
Before she could reply, a man’s voice called from inside, “Aurora, who is it?”
Daniel’s expression darkened. His gaze shifted over Aurora’s shoulder and landed on Warner. For a split second, the air between them crackled with tension.
“What’s he doing here?” Daniel demanded, grabbing Aurora’s wrist and pulling her to his side, his tone sharp and unmistakably jealous.
Aurora yanked her hand free, her voice frosty. “That’s my question. What are you doing here?”
Annoyance prickled beneath her skin. She’d made it clear in the divorce
agreement—she would walk away with nothing. So what more did he want from
her?
Daniel’s face clouded with frustration. He could see Aurora didn’t welcome him. Yet here was Warner, making himself right at home.
Jealousy flared, threatening to burn away his restraint.
“You”
“Dan, is that you?” Grandma Grace called from the living room.
Daniel forced himself to calm down, swallowing his pride. “I’ll just go in and say hello to Grandma.”
Aurora cut him off coldly. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Chambers. Please leave.”
She moved to shut the door.
Daniel’s hand shot out to block it.
Startled, Aurora grabbed the door in alarm. “What are you doing? Do you want to lose a finger?”
If she hadn’t stopped, she would’ve slammed the door right on his hand. This man was out of his mind.
Daniel caught the worry in her eyes and, absurdly, decided it might have been worth it just to see her so flustered.
Forcing his way in, he brushed past her. Why should Warner be allowed in but not him?
Aurora wasn’t strong enough to stop him, so she could only watch as he barged inside with shameless determination.
“Grandma,” Daniel greeted softly.
Grandma Grace politely offered him a seat and asked why he’d come.
“I should’ve visited the day you were released from the hospital,” Daniel
explained, “but my father’s been unwell, so I got held up.”
He glanced at Aurora, making sure she knew he hadn’t stayed away on purpose just tangled up with family problems.
Aurora pretended not to hear, disappearing into the kitchen.
Warner leaned in and whispered, “You didn’t talk things out with Mr. Winters?”
Aurora counted out the silverware, her tone clipped. “We talked. Mr. Winters even drafted a new divorce agreement for me. Daniel refused to sign.”
The thought alone made her bristle with irritation.
When it was time to call Grandma Grace for dinner, Aurora deliberately ignored Daniel.
But Grandma Grace called him over anyway. He was a guest, after all. Besides, Aurora would be moving back to Fairvale soon. Burning bridges with Daniel now would only make things harder.
Seeing her grandmother invite Daniel, Aurora had no choice but to set an extra place at the table.
Watching Warner move comfortably around the kitchen, serving up food, Daniel felt a surge of jealousy. He couldn’t resist a barbed comment. “Mr. Frost, you certainly have a lot of free time.”
Warner just smiled. “No misunderstanding, Mr. Chambers. I’m here for a bit of inspiration. Happened to run into Aurora and Grandma Grace, and since I’ve got a bit of muscle, I helped them tidy up. They were grateful and invited me for dinner.”
“And since I’m not half bad in the kitchen, I put together a few dishes so they could sample my cooking.”
“I live next door, by the way. Hope you don’t mind if I drop in from time to time.”
His words might have sounded casual, but every phrase hammered home the point he lived right next door.
Daniel heard the subtle boasting loud and clear.
His fists clenched under the table, itching for a fight.