The Bond Between Us (Anastasia and Herman) novel Chapter 1018

Mr. Walker replayed the past few days in his mind. If Julie really was Autumn and Devin’s daughter, then all of Autumn’s strange behavior lately suddenly made sense.

He just couldn’t accept it. He clung to the hope that it was all some big misunderstanding.

He and Autumn had been married almost thirty years, sharing every high and low. When he’d first met her, he was a nobody—penniless, orphaned, his siblings barely able to keep themselves afloat. None of his relatives thought much of his future. Most figured he’d be a lifelong bachelor.

Then Autumn walked into his life.

It happened one winter. She was sweet and gentle, with a quiet beauty that didn’t need dressing up. They’d been introduced by a family acquaintance. Back then, all he had was a rundown house with a leaky roof, but Autumn never complained. She married him anyway.

After the wedding, Mr. Walker threw himself into work. He served the community, built his career step by step. Eventually they had money for a new house, and even bought an apartment in the city.

When things finally settled, Autumn got pregnant. Mr. Walker remembered that as the happiest time in his life. Once he’d made something of himself, he tried to make it up to her—bought her the wedding jewelry and gifts they hadn’t been able to afford at the start.

Even though they never ended up with children, their love stayed strong.

Now, he found himself sitting on the restroom steps, not sure how long he’d been lost in thought, when his assistant showed up. “Mr. Walker, are you alright? Did you drink too much?”

The assistant looked worried—probably thought something terrible had happened.

Mr. Walker waved him off. “I’m fine.”

“Let me take you back to the hotel, sir,” the assistant offered, steadying him.

Mr. Walker played along, pretending to be a little drunk, letting his assistant help him out.

These days, his position meant he had to keep himself together no matter what. Every word and action had to be measured and careful.

Sometimes, having status and power felt more like wearing invisible handcuffs than anything else.

Back at the hotel, Mr. Walker sank into the sofa and told his assistant, “Take the night off, Mark. Come by at nine tomorrow morning.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Mark lingered, still concerned.

“Really, I’m fine.” Mr. Walker tried to sound convincing.

Mark got the hint and left.

Mr. Walker said, “Let Mrs. Walker sleep in. No need to tell her I called.”

“Yes, sir.”

After he hung up, Mr. Walker just sat there, replaying the conversation he’d overheard outside the restroom between those two men.

He lit a cigarette and paced the room, mind churning.

You didn’t get to his position without learning to read between the lines.

That conversation he’d overheard—so conveniently within earshot—was clearly meant for him.

And if he kept digging, there was the case with Grannie Anita. The memory sent a cold chill down his spine…