Page 51 of “Not” Engaged to the Grumpy Billionaire

Hey, is it okay if I move back earlier? Let me know when the house is ready.

I hesitate for a moment before hitting send, my heart aching with every keystroke. But it’s the right thing to do. It has to be.

Starting over is the only option. A fresh start. Away from Nate, away from Max, away from the life I foolishly let myself imagine.

I place the phone on my nightstand and lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s better this way,” I whisper to myself, though the words feel like a lie.

Because no matter how hard I try to convince myself, the truth is undeniable.

I’ve fallen for Nate Kingston.

And if I don't act fast it’s going to break me.

Chapter twelve

Nate

The sound of Max’s fork clinking against his plate fills the dining room, but my mind is somewhere else. Somewhere upstairs. With Liz.

She’s been avoiding me. It’s not just a feeling, it’s a fact. I’ve tried to talk to her, corner her at work, or catch her alone at home, but she always finds an excuse. A meeting, an email, a task that absolutely cannot wait. She’s always polite, always professional, but distant in a way that gnaws at me.

I should let it go. I should respect her space. But the truth is, her absence—her distance—is affecting me more than I want to admit.

“Liz isn’t joining us again?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Sue looks up from her plate, her expression unreadable. “She said she’ll eat later. I think she’s busy.”

Max frowns, his little face scrunching up in a way that makes my chest ache. “She doesn’t eat with us anymore,” he saysquietly, pushing his food around his plate. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not,” I say quickly, my voice firmer than intended.

Max looks up at me, his blue eyes wide and searching. “Then why doesn’t she like us anymore?”

“She likes us just fine,” I assure him, even as my gut twists at the uncertainty in his voice. “I’ll talk to her, okay? I promise.”

That seems to satisfy him for now, but as he returns to his meal, I can’t shake the hollowness that settles over me. Dinner feels empty without her. The whole house feels emptier. And it’s not just about Max missing her presence, it’s me.

I miss her.

I miss the way her laughter fills the space, the way she teases Max out of his grumpy moods, the way she looks at me when she thinks I’m not paying attention.

The thought hits me harder than it should, and I push my chair back abruptly. “Max, keep eating. I’ll be right back.”

I don’t have a plan as I head upstairs, my footsteps quick and determined. All I know is that I need to talk to her. To figure out why she’s pulling away and put an end to it.

When I reach her door, I hesitate for a moment, my hand hovering just above the wood. I take a deep breath and knock.

“Come in,” she calls, her voice soft but steady.

I push the door open and step inside, my gaze immediately landing on her. She’s standing by the dresser, with her back to me, dressed in an oversized top that clearly doesn’t belong to her.

Jealousy flares in my chest before I can stop it. The idea of her wearing another man’s clothes sends a surge of possessiveness through me, irrational and unwelcome. I try to shove it down, but my mind betrays me, wondering if she would ever wear my shirt like that.

“Did you need something?” she asks, turning to face me.

Her tone is polite, almost indifferent, and it stings more than I want to admit.

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