Love Rents A Room -
Chapter 103: The Confrontation
Chapter 103: The Confrontation
Joanne stayed with Charlotte, watching over her as the girl’s breathing steadied, her small frame finally surrendering to exhaustion. Poor thing. She had been through so much today.
As Joanne brushed a stray curl from Charlotte’s cheek, a surge of protectiveness swelled within her. The girl deserved peace.
Quietly, she slipped out of the room.
But the moment she stepped onto the staircase, a strange unease slithered up her spine. The house was too still—eerily silent, just like that morning. A shiver ran through her, but she pushed forward, forcing her feet down each step.
He wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t leave just like that.
Just as she reached the bottom stair, the front door creaked open ever so slightly.
Her breath hitched.
In a flash, she lunged for the cupboard, fingers closing around the grip of her gun. Her pulse pounded as she aimed at the door, her knuckles white from the tight hold.
She hated this.
Being on edge all the time.
Living like prey in a world full of predators.
People wanted her dead. People wanted to see her suffer. People left her. People tried to rob her.
And she was so damn tired.
But giving up? That wasn’t in her blood.
Not now. Not ever.
The door creaked again, and then...
"Hi..."
Jonathan.
The sight of him standing in the doorway, hands raised, made her chest deflate.
"I come in peace," he added quickly.
Joanne let out a sharp exhale, lowering the gun. "Hello, Mr. Meyer." With a flick of her thumb, she set the safety back on and turned toward the living room.
"She’s asleep," Joanne said as she walked. "She was worried, upset. I explained things to her. Told her not to hate you. She’s too young to understand everything, but she will. I’ll send her back in the morning."
She forced a smile and made her way toward the kitchen, done with this conversation.
Jonathan, however, wasn’t.
"Joanne."
She stopped but didn’t turn.
"We need to talk."
"Then talk." She shrugged, finally facing him.
Jonathan hesitated before sitting down, studying her. "I..." He exhaled. "I’m glad you’re safe."
Joanne let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Me too." A pause. "Good thing Jeffrey was there at the right time."
Jonathan’s expression soured instantly. "Jeffrey." He said the name with a trace of bitterness.
Joanne’s eyes narrowed.
"I saw him walking toward the barn with Philip Winchester." He just found it weird that Philip asked him to get out and then that paying guest brought Philip to the barn. Their situation looked tense, as if they were hiding something.
That made her pause. "Mr. Winchester is still here?" Her voice lifted slightly in surprise.
So Jeffrey hadn’t left. Her heart lightened at the thought. She had worried over nothing. He wouldn’t just disappear.
But what did Philip Winchester want with him?
Had he already figured it out the relationship between him and her? The old man was sharp. Too sharp.
She thought Philip probably was giving a "talk" to Jeffrey. That old man did the same with Liam in the past too. Her lips curved unknowingly.
"They must be talking about me," she mused, rubbing her nose. "They worry about me."
Jonathan’s gaze darkened. "Your paying guest worries about you?"
Something in his tone made her bristle.
"What exactly are you insinuating?" Her voice was clipped, a warning laced beneath it.
Jonathan shrugged. "Just an observation. He’s very... close to you."
That did it.
Her patience snapped, shattering into sharp, cutting pieces.
"Whatever’s running through your mind, Mr. Meyer, let me make one thing clear... I can say with clear conscience that I didn’t disrespect our relationship by stepping over the line." Her words were sharp as steel. "That’s all I have to say about my relationship with Jeffrey Daniels."
She didn’t give him a chance to respond. Yes, she slept with Jeffrey but only after having a clear break with Jonathan. She owed nothing to Jonathan.
Instead, she stood and walked toward the door, turning back only once.
"The only reason I’m keeping my temper in check right now is because I love Charlotte," she continued, her tone now laced with quiet steel. "She’s a smart girl, and she has a bright future ahead of her. This is a crucial time in her life. If the adults around her don’t act with maturity, she could derail completely." Her eyes met his, unwavering. "I won’t allow that."
Jonathan bowed his head, shame flickering across his face.
"Valerie and I—" he started.
"I don’t want to know your love story." Joanne cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Just like I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal life."
Jonathan let out a long breath, nodding. "It’s... frustrating," he admitted. "That my daughter seems to care more about you than me. I stepped out of line. I apologize." He rubbed a hand over his face. "She’s all I have left of my wife. I get... foolish when it comes to her."
Joanne studied him for a moment, noting the regret in his eyes.
"If you’re really sorry," she said, "then do something for me."
Jonathan looked up. "What is it?"
"Handle Nina—the one who leaked the video. I’ve got too much on my plate already. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with the Nolan family."
Jonathan exhaled heavily, scratching the back of his head. "I’ll handle it." He gave a small nod. "Consider it an atonement." A beat passed before he hesitated. "And about Valerie—"
"I don’t care about Valerie." Her voice was firm, final. "I don’t care about you. I’d be perfectly happy if I never saw your face again."
Jonathan flinched.
"The only reason I’m civil with you is because of Charlotte. And I will continue to be, for her sake."
Jonathan opened his mouth, as if wanting to say something more, but in the end, he only sighed.
"Then I suppose this is goodbye." A small, tired smile crossed his lips. "You don’t have to force yourself anymore."
Joanne frowned slightly at his words, not fully understanding their meaning. But she didn’t care enough to ask.
She was relieved he was leaving. She briefly considered checking on Jeffrey in the barn but let the men continue their conversation instead. Turning on the TV for the news, she hoped to see her face on screen that day.
-----
Jeffrey stood motionless, his head bowed, as Philip Winchester loomed over him, radiating a fury so intense it seemed to thicken the air between them. His grandfather’s hand lifted slightly—halfway to striking—but then, with a sharp breath, he clenched his fingers into a fist and lowered it.
"I don’t even want to touch you to hit you," Philip said, his voice like the slow rumble of a distant storm. His piercing gaze burned into Jeffrey’s skull. "How are you a Winchester? How do you carry the noble blood of my ancestors—men who were known for their unwavering loyalty?"
Jeffrey’s heart skipped a beat.
Loyalty.
The word sliced through him, sharper than any slap his grandfather could have delivered.
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