When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2206

The room lay still, so still it felt as if every tick of the wall clock had been smothered in cotton. Dust spiraled through a single shaft of afternoon light, and even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Jason clenched his fists, the knuckles whitening. "There were... things I hadn't finished resolving back then." His voice rasped, each word dragged across invisible barbed wire.

In truth, he and Chelsea had only been an official couple for a handful of months—barely long enough to mark the seasons—yet her name had already grown roots around his heart.

Phoebe released a short, brittle laugh that never reached her eyes. "Is that so? A woman's youth is priceless. Chelsea isn't a child anymore. If she waits another year and you still have no achievements, what then—what happens to her future?"

Jason's mouth opened, closed, then stayed shut. Words wheeled inside his head, but none found the courage to step forward.

He understood the concern that Chelsea's parents had for their daughter. He knew Phoebe's harshness was only a desperate shield raised for her daughter.

What was he? An orphan with empty pockets and bigger dreams than receipts. Wanting their daughter without offering dowry or pedigree—it bordered on lunacy.

"I have nothing right now," he admitted, voice low but steady, "and I don't know what kind of guarantee I could possibly give you."

The confession tasted like iron on his tongue, yet he forced each syllable out—bare honesty, no embellishment.

Phoebe folded her arms. "Then walk away from Chelsea and live your own life properly."

Kingston added, gentle yet unyielding, "You saved our daughter once, and we're grateful. If you let her go this time, name your price."

"We've heard you started a company," he continued, his tone almost fatherly. "Launching a business is never easy. I can help—capital, resources, whatever you need."

Jason's answering smile was thin, almost sorrowful. Gratitude warred with humiliation in the tight lines around his eyes.

"Thank you, sir, but no." The two words fell like a quiet gavel, final and polite.

His throat felt dry and tight. "Here's my proposal. For the next year, I won't contact Chelsea at all. But one year from today, if I've built something real, I'll return to pursue her—openly and honorably."

Resolve blazed in his eyes, clear as a lighthouse through fog.

"And when that day comes," he said, shoulders squaring, "even your disapproval won't turn me away."

The couple exchanged startled glances, caught off guard by the iron beneath the boyish façade.

They stepped out of Jason's modest apartment moments later, the corridor lights flickering overhead, both still slightly dazed.

The bedroom lights cast a pale glow across Chelsea's room. Phoebe's voice edged with frost. "Of course we're going to lay everything out for him. He's already sworn he won't come after you again. He even confessed you two were never married—that the whole story was your fabrication."

Chelsea's fingers knotted the linen as though she might shred it. "How could you do something like this?"

Phoebe pushed the food toward her. "We're doing this for your own good. Now eat before it all goes cold."

Tears shimmered in Chelsea's eyes, yet defiance lifted her chin. "I'm not eating. And I am not breaking up with him."

She pushed a shaky breath past her lips, disbelief and hurt tangling in her voice. "Mom, I just don't get it—you've hounded me for years to settle down. I finally meet someone I adore, and suddenly, you slam every door in my face. Jason isn't after our money. He loves me, not the Rainsworth fortune."

Phoebe opened her mouth to argue, but Chelsea stepped forward and, hand trembling, ushered her mother out of the room.

"Go—I'm not eating, period!"

Phoebe lingered in the hallway, her heart twisting as she stared at the closed door.

Left without a choice, she called Cecilia.