Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 202

It was obvious this room had once been decorated for a wedding.

On the wall, bright red letters—still crisp and new—clung awkwardly to the faded paint.

In the center stood a massive, king-sized bed draped in deep scarlet bedding.

Celestine hesitated at the doorway, her nerves frayed. “I could… actually just sleep on the couch,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Sandra’s expression soured. “There’s only one bedroom in this house, you know! I’m already giving it up for you both—I'll take the couch myself.”

Celestine bit her lip, guilt flooding her cheeks. “I’m sorry. Thank you for the trouble.”

It’s just one night, she told herself. No big deal.

That evening, Gideon borrowed Sandra’s phone, making a string of calls from the cramped kitchen. He issued instructions, preparing for his absence and making sure the restless factions at work would stay in line.

When he returned, candle in hand, the room was bathed in pale moonlight.

Celestine lay quietly atop the striking red bedspread, her gaze hollow as she stared into the night beyond the window. A single tear slipped down her cheek, shining in the silver glow.

Gideon set the candle on the nightstand.

She heard him and turned her head. He sat on a wooden stool beside the bed, long legs folded, studying her with an unreadable, almost clinical gaze.

Celestine sniffed, suddenly aware of the wetness on her face.

A large, steady hand offered her a tissue.

“Here,” Gideon’s voice was gentle, low, somehow soothing. “Dry your eyes.”

“Thank you.” She took the tissue obediently, dabbing her cheeks.

“Is it the bed?” he asked quietly. “Can’t sleep somewhere new?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that…”

“His mother hated him…”

Gideon’s voice was mesmerizing, calm and unhurried, with a quiet strength that softened the edges of her grief.

At first, Celestine found herself silently scoffing. What kind of mother could treat her child like that? Gideon needed to work on his storytelling. But as the story went on, a strange bitterness crept in, and she couldn’t shake the feeling of sorrow that welled up inside her.

She wondered, if someone like that really existed, how could they possibly survive such misery?

Clutching the heavy comforter to her chest, her doubts faded as her eyelids began to droop.

In her dreams, she felt someone approach and gently tuck the blankets around her shoulders.

For the first time in a long while, her sleep was deep and unbroken.

When she woke, sunlight was pouring through the window, filling the room with warmth.