chapter2161

Jason offered a sheepish smile. "I slipped out before dawn to hunt for a larger apartment. You were sleeping so soundly that I couldn't bear to wake you. I figured I'll box everything up first so we can leave for the new apartment sooner."

On hearing those words, Chelsea felt the great weight she had been carrying finally

tumble away.

Flushed with equal parts relief and irritation, she smacked him lightly on the arm. "You big dummy! Why didn't you tell me earlier? I t-thought..."

Jason blinked, genuinely at a loss. "Thought what?"

Heat pooled in Chelsea's cheeks. I thought he didn't want me anymore... But I can't say that now. It's too embarrassing.

She turned away so he wouldn't see her blush. "Nothing," she mumbled.

"Well, then, let's have breakfast. You must be starving."

With that, Jason quickly grabbed a plate of food from the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafting from it.

"I wasn't sure when you'd wake, so I kept the food in the microwave. It's still hot. Try it and let me know if it's to your liking. If you don't like it, I'll buy you something else."

Chelsea accepted the quiche, took a tentative bite, then brightened. "This is from West Street, isn't it?"

Jason nodded once, the motion firm, almost proud. "Yes."

Chelsea's chest warmed. West Street lay miles away, and the breakfast shop there limited its stock each dawn; getting the quiche meant he had queued at first light.

"Thank you," she said with a smile, then added, "But didn't I tell you yesterday there was no need to move?"

"No," Jason said softly, yet with unshakable finality. "I've already made you put up with enough. I won't let you endure one more compromise."

He believed it was only right for a man to provide the woman he loved with a life of comfort. Even if he couldn't give her the most luxurious life in the world just yet, he would at least give her the best he could afford.

Chelsea couldn't help laughing. "Silly, I don't feel like I'm enduring any hardship. Let me help you pack."

Jason tried to wave her off, but she stood her ground, refusing to budge.

Working side by side, they folded, taped, and lifted until the apartment was stripped to bare walls.

Jason's new rental sat inside a respectable complex-clean sidewalks, trimmed hedges, a guarded gate—worlds away from the cramped walk-up they had just abandoned.

"From now on, you'll take the master bedroom," Jason said, opening the door with a flourish.

The place boasted two bedrooms and a single living area; not grand, but bigger than before, and finished with warm maple floors and tasteful light-gray walls.

Chelsea bobbed her head eagerly. "All right."

With her approval won, Jason unpacked the linens and smoothed fresh sheets across the mattress, tucking the corners with soldierly precision.

Such chores were foreign to Chelsea; back at Rainsworth Manor, servants had handled everything.

Watching him flip the duvet and polish every surface until it gleamed, she felt a wave of admiration swell-he could make a home out of nothing but care and grit. "You're incredible. I don't know how to do any of this," Chelsea said, her voice a mix of admiration and self-reproach while she watched him glide a mop across the floor.

"That's okay. I've got it handled," Jason replied with an easy shrug, treating the chore like a harmless workout.

"No, that won't do," she countered, pushing herself upright and folding the blanket at her waist. "From now on, I'm going to learn. We're

partners, remember

ve?

cant let.

you

Shoulder everything alone.

To her, affection was a scale that had to stay level—his kindness balanced by hers,

or the future would tilt and tumble.

"You don't have to", Jason murmured, never pausing in his rhythm. "Not now, not ever."

He had no money for hired help yet, but he carried a silent promise. One day, he would earn enough for

Chelsea to lift no heavier burdennet

than a porcelain teacup Until that day arrived, he would scrub, sweep, and polish every surface himself. The daughter of the Rainsworth family had grown up cushioned by care; he would not allow hardship to bruise her palms now.

She was, after all, someone else's carefully cherished daughter. Letting her taste

hardship felt, to Jason, like a personal sin.

Chelsea, moved beyond further

protest, sank back onto the couch. She lifted her phone, snapped a

candid of Jason's broad back bent in motion, and sent it to the Ladies Chat with a sparkle eyed caption.

Across town, Cecilia sat beneath fluorescent office light. The image bloomed on her screen, and she smiled, recognizing the unmistakable glow of a woman newly, hopelessly smitten.

Beside her, Charlotte continued a quiet rundown of quarterly figures, unaware that a photo of domestic bliss had stolen her boss' attention.

"Chelsea is bewitched," Charlotte joked when she finally glanced over. "Although, seeing Jason's shoulders, I can't blame her."

Cecilia shot her a look. "Keep your voice down. Sven might hear, even from miles away."