Thorns Grow After Betrayal (Celeste and Chester) novel Chapter 235

Once he’d eaten his fill, Celestine quietly began to clear away the remains of their meal.

Suddenly, she reached into her bag and produced a bottle of sweet red bean drink.

“Here, have some. The doctor said you lost a lot of blood, so you should get some extra nutrients. I tried this one already—it’s not too sweet, just right.”

Lance paused, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t reach for the drink immediately.

“Thank you.”

This time, his gratitude sounded more sincere, deeper than before.

“No need to thank me,” Celestine replied, pouring the drink into a cup for him.

A gentle, sweet aroma drifted up on the steam.

Lance cupped the mug in both hands, his gaze unfocused. Celestine noticed him drifting off several times.

She remembered, not so long ago, scrolling through his social media after that incident with Mirabelle. There’d been a photo: a glass of red bean drink. She remembered it because it was Mother’s Day.

Someone had asked for the recipe in the comments, and, unlike his usual distant and aloof self, Lance had patiently written out the whole process, step by step.

Celestine had arrived a bit late today—she’d waited for this drink to finish simmering.

Now, Lance sipped it slowly, as if savoring each taste.

Celestine quietly packed up, getting ready to leave.

Lance was still holding the cup, a shadow flickering in his eyes. “Are you leaving already?”

“Is there something else?” Celestine feigned innocence.

“No,” he said softly.

He shook his head and kept his grip on the cup, glancing at the now-spotless table.

“The drink is delicious. You really put thought into it.”

Earlier, he’d suspected Celestine might have just ordered some random takeout to placate him. After all, those entrees had been…well, let’s just say they left a lot to be desired.

Women didn’t shy away from working with the best—especially in a field they loved.

He was grateful that, back at the awards ceremony, he’d only clashed with Mirabelle’s team, and hadn’t crossed paths with Celestine directly.

Celestine, for her part, couldn’t help but think his smile was like a praying mantis waiting to pounce—a little too predatory for comfort.

If it weren’t for the setting, she might have laughed outright at his attempt to poach her so blatantly.

Still, overconfidence did have its perks. For one, he hadn’t noticed her amusement.

“It’s getting late, Mr. Blake. I should head home,” Celestine reminded him.

She saw the flicker of panic cross his face.

She continued, “I’m starting work again soon, so I probably won’t be able to visit the hospital much. If you really need something, you can message me. I’ll reply…whenever I see it.”

Which, of course, usually meant five or six hours later.

Lance tried not to let his disappointment show. “Miss Selwyn, could you take me for a walk outside before you go?”