Reborn, Reawakened, Rekindled novel Chapter 685

"Hey there, Neil," Irene chirped, mustering up the courage to greet Neil, only to be met with a chilling glare that seemed to cut right through her.

In that moment, Irene felt less like his bride and more like an arch-enemy with whom he shared a blood feud.

Frozen by his icy gaze, she might have remained rooted to the spot at the top of the stairs if not for Faith’s timely intervention.

"Breakfast is ready, Irene," Faith called out, snapping Irene back to reality.

With cautious steps, Irene made her way to the dining area, only to be completely ignored by Neil throughout the meal. He looked as though he hadn't slept at all, with a stubble shadowing his jaw and bloodshot eyes that spoke volumes of his exhaustion and irritation.

But Irene dared not ask; she knew better than to probe into matters Neil wished to keep to himself.

From that day on, she became Mrs. Whitmore, a mere showpiece in Neil’s life, receiving even colder treatment than before their marriage. Neil often stayed away from home, leaving Irene to pour her heart into decorating their new home in Sterling Estates, hoping it would somehow bridge the gap between them. She transformed the villa into the dream home she had always envisioned, only to find herself living in a lonely marital tomb.

"Girl, he's been linked to five different women already. How much more can you take?" Stella's voice crackled through the phone, her words dripping with disdain for Neil.

"It's all just for show," Irene defended weakly, clinging to the last shreds of her dignity despite knowing deep down Neil’s indifference.

Refusing to acknowledge the truth felt like preserving the last vestige of hope in her crumbling marriage.

So she continued to live in denial.

Days turned into years, and Irene became a fixture in Sterling Estates, her presence fading into obscurity as people began to forget Neil even had a wife.

Thinking she had a chance to mend their distance, Irene awkwardly asked if they could sleep together, fearing the storm outside more than the storm within their marriage.

Neil's disdainful rejection, masked as a brief moment of consideration, crushed any hope Irene had harbored. As the door slammed shut in her face, she was left nursing a bloody nose and a broken heart on the cold floor outside.

Retreating to her room, Irene curled up under the covers as thunder roared outside, echoing the turmoil in her heart, alone and forsaken in the vastness of Sterling Estates.

The next morning, Irene was up at the crack of dawn, bustling around the kitchen to whip up a breakfast for Neil. Over the past three years, she'd honed her cooking skills with one goal in mind: to one day treat Neil to a meal made with her own two hands.

"Neil, are you awake? Come on, breakfast is ready!" As soon as Neil stirred, Irene rushed over, playing the part of a doting servant. But in her mind, she was filled with thoughts of him, not feeling the slightest bit demeaned by her actions.

Isn't loving someone all about giving your all?