It was Rowan.
He’d clearly just showered, dressed now in deep blue loungewear—a far cry from his usual tailored suits. The edge in his demeanor remained, but there was a new, almost lazy ease about him.
Elissa let out a quiet breath of relief and opened the door. “Not staying at the manor tonight?”
Rowan shot her a sidelong look, his tone laced with obvious disdain for her halfhearted question. “When have I ever stayed at the manor?”
Right. That was a pointless question. He’d moved out eight years ago and hadn’t spent a single night back there since.
Knowing how particular he was, Elissa had set out a brand-new pair of men’s slippers by the entrance.
Rowan glanced down, his voice cool. “Whose are these?”
She headed for the kitchen, not bothering to look back. “Yours.”
The faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips as he stepped inside, moving with the casual confidence of someone who belonged there.
He spotted her holding a box of beef pie and seemed unsurprised. “Midnight snack?”
Elissa had never once felt satisfied after a meal at Murphy Manor—especially not after tonight’s disaster. She hadn’t had the appetite for it.
“Yeah,” she replied, flicking on the kitchen light as she nodded.
Rowan pulled out a chair and sat at the dining table, issuing his request as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Make one for me too.”



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