When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2199

Chelsea's throat burned. She lowered the plate onto the table with deliberate care, fingers whitening around the rim before she released it.

"We've dated for years, and you pick tonight to decide we're not right for each other? Don't you think that's... cruel?" Her eyes glistened, but she refused to let a tear fall.

Jason gave no answer, silence settling over him like a heavy coat.

"Tell me exactly how we don't fit," she pressed, voice brittle. "Say it, and I'll walk away."

Jason's lips compressed to a thin, bloodless line. Seconds dragged before he finally spoke.

"We just don't see the world the same way—especially when it comes to money."

Before he could misread her again, Chelsea hurried forward, words tumbling over themselves. "Back then, I ordered pricey take-out only because I had no idea how outrageous those numbers were. I understand now."

She pointed at the neat bundles of leftovers arrayed on the coffee table, solid evidence of her new resolve.

"Lunch with Charlotte today cost less than five hundred, and I boxed the rest. My delivery orders now are only a few dozen. See? I can be frugal."

The confession tightened a noose around Jason's pride; he finally saw how fiercely she was already bending to fit his life.

His hand, dangling at his side, curled until the knuckles blanched.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked, each syllable brittle enough to crack.

Until this moment, he had convinced himself Chelsea was doing just fine.

Chelsea frowned, genuinely confused. "Telling you now isn't too late. You know the facts—surely you won't accuse me of overspending anymore? And if you still think it's too much," she added, meeting his eyes without flinching, "I'll tighten the budget even further."

Her sincerity drove the knife deeper. Self-loathing flared inside him like a match dropped in gasoline.

"No amount of saving will fix this. You should leave," he said, shaping each word like an unwanted farewell.

Chelsea wasn't naive. Moments earlier, everything had been fine; his sudden eviction notice screamed of some hidden crisis.

She took a deep breath. "I'm not leaving. I'll camp right here—try and chase me out if you think you can."

What on earth is wrong with him?

After a restless minute, she pushed to her feet and marched toward Jason's room. Without so much as a knock, she swung the door wide and stepped inside.

Jason, who was working, glanced up to find her framed in the doorway, anger darkening her features.

He dropped his eyes again, pretending she was nothing more than a draft across the floor.

The dismissal stoked her temper even hotter.

"Talk to me, Jason. What is going on with you today?"

"Just leave," he said, voice clipped and even, "I'm not good enough for you."

The words hit Chelsea like a memory she had tried to outgrow. He had said the same thing the night she first confessed under the campus sycamores; months later, the same worn-out refrain surfaced, frayed but unchanged.

Chelsea closed his laptop quickly and bent over to plant a kiss on his lips, then his face. Jason froze at her action, unable to move a muscle.