When Her Death Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel) novel Chapter 2158

Jason followed her inside. The hallway light died the moment they crossed the threshold, yet he left the door gaping a few inches—an unspoken gesture of courtesy in a building that smelled of mildew and strangers.

He cleared his throat, voice low enough to avoid echoing down the stairwell. "Chelsea, what exactly happened between you and your parents?"

Chelsea dropped into the cramped couch that barely fit in the narrow living room. "Nothing serious. They just decided I'm no longer their daughter," she said, tone breezy, before lifting her chin toward the ajar door. "And why haven't you shut that thing?"

Jason scratched the back of his neck. "Closing it with you inside feels improper."

Chelsea's laugh burst out, light and teasing. "You're way too old-fashioned..."

With an exasperated shake of her head, she stepped past him, pressed her palm to the wood, and pushed the door shut until the latch clicked.

She turned the lock with a decisive flick, then smirked. "What are you afraid of? We're a couple, and nobody in this area knows who we are."

Jason opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off before a single syllable escaped. "And besides, this place is a melting pot of all sorts. What if some dodgy man targets me?"

Chelsea's logic left no room to argue, so he stepped forward, ushered her inside, and turned the deadbolt with a soft, irrevocable click.

"I've been staying here for quite a while," he murmured, leaning into the doorframe. "Met most of the neighbors once or twice, so there's nothing to fear."

"Yes. With you around, I know I have nothing to fear," Chelsea replied.

She returned to the couch, curled into a tight comma, and stretched out as though it were a chaise in a palace.

Jason stood there, watching the soft lines of her face, his thoughts momentarily scattering like startled birds.

He cleared his throat again. "Chelsea."

"Mm?" Her reply was little more than a drowsy hum.

"When are you planning to go home?" he asked, voice careful.

She yawned, hand over mouth. "I already told you—I'm not."

"Then where will you stay?" Jason pressed, concern creasing his brow.

"With you, obviously. Why else would I come here?" she answered, as if the idea were self-evident.

Jason blinked. "Eh? B-But... That doesn't seem proper."

Chelsea's patience snapped. "Improper? My parents froze every card I have, repossessed my apartment, and you're worried about propriety? If you don't take me in, tell me where exactly I'm supposed to sleep tonight."

My goodness... Why is Jason so d*mn stubborn?

1 million? The number ricocheted through Chelsea's mind, leaving her stunned and speechless.

"That much?" The words escaped before she could temper the awe in her voice.

Jason offered a single, steady nod. "Yes. It was meant for starting my business."

"And you're giving it all to me? What about your business?" Chelsea asked, brow furrowed in anxious confusion.

For someone raised in an ordinary household, scraping together 1 million would be a lifelong triumph—and that was Jason's first real fortune.

"It's okay. Money can be earned again," he said at last, voice slow, certain, and utterly unshaken.

Chelsea felt a swell of emotion tighten her chest; she doubted she could ever spend any of the money, knowing how hard he had worked for it.

She swallowed down the ache and lied with practiced ease. "I can't stay in a hotel. Hotels scare me."

"Hotel security should be pretty good, though. You'll be fine," Jason replied, keeping his reassurance soft but firm.

Moisture glazed Chelsea's eyes. "Have you considered that I could stay in hotels for a month or two on this, but what then?"