Chapter 241

Jace's POV

I'll help you adapt this scene into English while maintaining the emotional depth and expanding it to meet the word count requirement. I'll convert this into the scene between Jace Gillard and Eleanor Yates, with Drew Yeager as the boyfriend.

Here's the expanded English version:

"I... I can wash them myself, don't trouble yourself," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. Eleanor's presence always made me inexplicably nervous, like a teenager facing his first crush. Even now, years later, that feeling hadn't changed.

She didn't look up at me, maintaining that professional distance she'd perfected over the years. "They'll go in the washing machine, then the dryer," she replied matter-of-factly, her tone carrying that subtle edge of impatience I'd grown familiar with.

I felt heat rising to my cheeks. Earlier, when I'd seen her expertly wiping the floor, I'd assumed she was planning to hand-wash my clothes. That's why I tried to stop her-I couldn't bear the thought of her going through such trouble for me, especially now. The awkwardness of our situation hung heavy in the air, like invisible smoke that made it hard to breathe.

"I don't want to waste time," she said, her voice carrying a hint of irritation that made my heart sink. How different it was from the way she used to speak to me, when her words were filled with warmth and possibility.

I reluctantly let go of the clothes, but regret hit me instantly when I saw her pull out my boxers from the pile. My face burned hotter than the shower I'd just stepped out of. The bathroom's fluorescent lights seemed to spotlight my embarrassment.

"Underwear should be washed separately," she stated clinically, as if discussing the weather forecast. "Can you wash it yourself? If not, it should go in the trash." The casual way she discussed something so personal made me wonder: had she truly moved on, to be able to speak about such intimate things with such detachment?

"Let's just throw it away," she continued, not waiting for my response. "It would be too much trouble for you to come back here just to pick up one pair of boxers." Without hesitation, she tossed my underwear into the nearby trash bin, her decision as final as the soft thud it made hitting the bottom.

I could only press my lips together, words failing me as they often did around her. The small bathroom suddenly felt suffocating, despite the lingering steam from my shower having mostly dissipated.

She gathered up my remaining clothes and headed for the door. As she passed by me in the confined space, her familiar scent washed over me-that elegant perfume I remembered so vividly from that night. The night she'd tried to seduce me, when she'd made herself vulnerable, only for me to push her away. Even though the fragrance had triggered my allergies back then, its power over me had been undeniable. Only my deeply-held principles had given me the strength to resist.

All these years, I'd tried desperately to forget the tears in her eyes, the devastation on her face when I rejected her. But that perfume-it brought everything rushing back with cruel clarity. Now she wore it again, but for someone else. For Drew. Had she finally moved past our history enough to reclaim this scent as her own? After all, for so long after that night, she'd stopped wearing it completely.

I felt my lips curve into what must have been a pathetic attempt at a smile, even as my vision blurred with unwanted tears. The bathroom mirror showed me a man I barely recognized, someone still haunted by the ghosts of his choices.

After drying my hair, I stepped out into the living room. The space felt vast and empty without her presence-she was probably in the bedroom with Drew, taking care of him in his drunken state. As his girlfriend, that was her place now, not here with me in this awkward limbo of what-ifs and might-have-beens.

I stood frozen in the center of the living room, feeling like an intruder in a space that held too many memories. The modern furniture and tasteful decor seemed to mock me with their permanence, while my presence here was temporary, unwanted.

Should I sit down? How long should I wait? I didn't dare ask her these questions. My uncertainty kept me rooted to the spot, as still as the decorative plants that adorned the corners of the room.

Eleanor's POV

I picked up the empty mug that Drew had just used for his honey water and headed to the kitchen to wash it. After finishing, I noticed Jace still standing awkwardly in the same spot. "That room is the laundry room," I said, gesturing towards the door. "Your clothes should be ready in about an hour. Once they're dried, you can leave. I'm heading to bed."

I could sense Jace's discomfort at my presence, as if every moment I spent in his line of sight made him increasingly uneasy. The air between us felt thick with unspoken words and lingering regret.

"Alright," he nodded quickly, seeming almost relieved to have been given clear instructions. His eagerness to agree only confirmed my suspicion that he couldn't wait to leave. The tension in his shoulders spoke volumes about how much he wanted to escape this unexpected situation.

I retreated to my bedroom, closing the door behind me without looking back to see his expression. Sleep wasn't coming easily, especially knowing Drew was still feeling unwell from the drinking. His earlier bout of sickness meant I needed to keep checking on him.

"Water..." Drew mumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"Do you want some water?" I moved closer, studying his pale face with concern.

"Water..." he repeated, his voice weak and slightly raspy.

"Just a moment." I hadn't expected him to still be so thirsty, which was why I hadn't prepared more honey water earlier.

Stepping out of the bedroom, I found the living room eerily empty. Jace was nowhere to be seen. Had he left already? I glanced around briefly but Drew's need for water took priority over my curiosity about Jace's whereabouts.

I quickly prepared another mug of warm honey water, then returned to help Drew drink it. His eyes were unfocused as he looked at me, taking several long moments before recognition dawned in his gaze.

"Eleanor, I'm sorry..." he murmured, apparently aware enough to feel guilty about how the evening had turned out. We were supposed to be celebrating his birthday together, but instead, I was playing nurse to his drunk self.

"I'm not going to scold you now," I said, trying to keep my voice stern despite the fondness creeping in. "But once you're sober, you're in for it!"

"I'll make it up to you..." he promised, his expression filled with genuine remorse.

"You better. But right now, you need to take care of yourself. Come on, eat the sweet rice balls I made for you."

"Not hungry..."

"Are you going to eat them or not?" I raised an eyebrow, using my best no-nonsense tone.

"Yes," Drew complied meekly.

I couldn't help but smile. Drew's naturally boyish features always made him look especially vulnerable when he was apologetic, and right now, with that slight pout and guilty expression, he was stirring my protective instincts. I reached out and gently pinched his cheek, feeling the soft warmth beneath my fingers.

After taking the bowl to wash it, I still didn't see Jace. Had he really left? His clothes couldn't possibly be dry yet.

Walking toward the laundry room, I found him leaning against the counter, his eyes fixed intently on the spinning dryer as if willing it to finish faster. The intensity of his gaze suggested he couldn't wait to escape this awkward situation.

I was about to turn away when he looked back, our eyes meeting in an unexpected moment of connection.

"I was just checking if you'd left," I explained quickly, already stepping back. "The clothes should be done soon. Keep waiting."

"Eleanor..." he called out softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I paused, looking at him. "Yes?"

"You and Drew seem very happy together." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Does that make you happy?" I asked, studying his expression carefully.

"No..." The word seemed to escape before he could stop it.

"I should thank you, actually," I said, my voice steady despite the emotion building in my chest. "If you hadn't rejected me, I might never have realized how wonderful Drew is. I might never have known that I could love someone this deeply, this completely."