My Convicted Wife is My Mate (Bella and Kane) novel Chapter 28

chapter 24
BELLA’S POV

“She’s special to you,” Kane said quietly when I came back inside and locked the door behind me.

His deep voice filled the small cabin. He was still sitting at the kitchen table. The air felt different now — it was buzzing with her energy even after she was gone.

“Yes,” I replied softly. I took a seat across from him, picking up my cup of tea. It was cold now, but I stirred it anyway, just for something to do with my hands.

“When I was in prison,” I said. My throat went tight at the thought. “Tara would visit.”

Kane looked up from the book he had been reading. His green eyes were calm but curious. He didn’t interrupt me.

“The first day of every month, she was there. Rain or shine.” My voice shook slightly. “I never went to greet her. I didn’t want her to see me like that… behind glass, in that uniform, sitting in that cold room with the others. But I saw her. I always saw her sitting there, waiting. Just knowing she was there… it kept me going.”

I took a slow breath and looked down at the tea again. “I don’t know if I would’ve made it through without her.”

Kane nodded once. His expression was unreadable but warm in some quiet, subtle way. “She must be a good friend.”

“She is,” I whispered. “She really is.”

There was a pause — the kind that felt comfortable. He went back to reading, and I just sat there, feeling something in my chest unclench for the first time that day.

The next few days passed in a blur.

Work at the hospital became heavier. I took up extra shifts, last-minute cleaning routes, and more reports to fill out because the hospital management staff were coming for an inspection. Every day I came home exhausted, with my uniform damp from sweat or rain and my back aching.

And every day, Kane was there.

Sometimes, he was by the fireplace reading. Other times, he was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, quietly making dinner. He never said much about it. He just placed the food in front of me and waited until I sat.

“I told you not to wait for me,” I reminded him one evening, rubbing my sore wrist as I sat.

He just glanced at me. “I prefer eating together.”

It was simple and firm. It left no room for argument.

I found myself smiling despite the tiredness. The food tasted better with him there.

Early the next morning, after cleaning my assigned street, I returned to the hospital grounds. My coworkers and I were lined up outside in our uniforms, waiting for the inspection team from the Urban Management Bureau.

I stood quietly. I was one of the youngest among mostly middle-aged women. The air smelled of disinfectant and wet concrete. My hands were rough from scrubbing floors.

When the inspectors arrived, I straightened my posture.

“Bella?”

The sound of my name made me turn.

A young woman in a light-blue suit and high heels stood in front of the group. Her dark hair was pulled into a neat bun, and she had that polished confidence of someone who had done well in life. Her eyes widened when she saw me. This woman was beautiful.

For a moment, I was confused. How did she know me?

It took a while, but then recognition hit. I knew her.

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