Love Rents A Room
Chapter 178: She Was Done Waiting

Chapter 178: She Was Done Waiting

Joanne broke into a thousand, silent pieces.

She didn’t cry. Didn’t scream. She just... walked.

Her heels clicked against the patio stones with a rhythmic grace, the late afternoon sun casting long golden shadows across the garden party that had once felt like a celebration. Now, it felt like a crime scene.

The world behind her was fading into murmurs and sidelong glances, the tinkling of cutlery suddenly sharp in her ears. She didn’t look back. She had enough dignity left to hold her chin high as she passed through the garden, past the marble statues and linen-draped tables, toward the front of the estate.

As she walked past the large parasols and manicured hedges, her eyes landed on Lady Elsa—sitting like royalty with a half-empty glass of white wine, the light catching in the rim. Her gaze was sharp, amused. Joanne smiled politely, tilting her head in a small nod.

Thank you for the entertainment, Lady Elsa.

Lady Elsa raised her glass in return, as though saluting a worthy company.

Joanne continued her retreat.

She called for her car. She was going back to the Winchester mansion—far away from these people, far away from this... mess. She could feel their eyes, could practically hear the gossip already being drafted over champagne flutes and lobster rolls.

Jeffrey had asked her to stay away.

And that was exactly what she was going to do.

Even if it was killing her.

She thought of Philip, how kind he’d been to send the invite. How she’d wanted everything to go well, to prove herself in front of these high society wolves. She made a note to apologize to him later.

Her thoughts swirled. Her hands clenched around her clutch.

Stay out of it, Jo, Jeffrey had said.

But for how long?

Until he settled it?

Or forever?

She was so lost in her head that she didn’t notice the figure walking up beside her until he spoke.

"This is as far as I could manage today..."

The familiar English accent rolled in like a breeze.

She turned, startled—then smiled when she saw William Belford approaching, a bit rumpled in his navy waistcoat, his sleeves rolled up, tie loosened. He looked like he belonged in a Monet painting, not a garden scandal.

"You? Leave your own party?" she teased. "I thought you were living your best life back there."

William returned her smile, but it was softer than usual. "I’m not bluffing when I say I’m an introvert. Honest to God, I need a nap and a book after all this mingling."

Joanne nodded absently, her voice quieter. "Guess everyone has to give up something to gain something."

She used to think her pain was unique. That growing up poor, clawing her way up, meant she’d suffered more than most. But money had its own price. Gilded cages. Shallow alliances. Public betrayals.

"Want me to take you somewhere quieter?" William asked gently. "I know just the place. No nosy nobles or garden gossip."

Joanne gave a small, exhausted chuckle. She appreciated him, she really did—but she also knew where her heart stood.

"Mr. Belford," she said, her voice steady, "I like you. Truly. You’re one of the few people who see beyond where someone came from. I’d like to keep you as a friend—an ally. And maybe... a business partner."

She pulled a sleek card from her purse and handed it to him.

"Give me a call sometime. We’ll finish the conversation we started earlier—about those projects. You can trust our logistics."

William took the card, and for a moment, the smile slipped from his face. Just a flicker. Just enough.

She noticed—but didn’t waver. She wasn’t here to lead anyone on.

"A lucky man, that Jeffrey Winchester," William said, glancing up at the sky. The sun hung low, a pale gold disk behind drifting clouds.

Joanne didn’t look away. "I do love him," she said.

Even now. Even when he told her to stay out of it.

Even if this whole thing fell apart.

She still loved him.

She wasn’t ashamed to say it.

Her car pulled up, shining in the late sunlight. She turned to William, offered a small, sincere smile.

"Thank you," she said simply, before getting into the car.

As they drove away, past rows of Wimbledon hedges and sprawling green estates, Joanne sat in silence. Her gaze fixed on the passing fields, the light catching in her eyes.

Her mind felt... blank.

Not broken.

Not angry.

Just blank.

But beneath that stillness?

Something was stirring.

-----

She returned to the mansion in silence.

The butler opened the grand doors, and his eyes widened the moment he saw her standing alone in the soft light of the late afternoon. No Jeffrey. No car behind hers. Just Joanne, shoulders squared, lips gently curved in a polite smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

She nodded at him, that same poised grace she always carried. But as soon as she crossed the threshold, that smile wilted. It dropped off her face like a petal too heavy with rain.

"I’ll rest for a while," she said, voice calm—too calm.

The butler bowed slightly. He didn’t ask any questions. He didn’t need to.

Joanne climbed the staircase slowly, her fingers brushing the polished banister like she needed it to stay upright. Each step felt like a mile.

When she reached the room—his room, their room, the room she’d spent memorable quiet mornings in with him—she shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Just for a second.

Just to breathe.

She told herself she would rest, but her eyes never closed. She waited. And waited. As the hours slid by, sunlight bled out from the windows, turning gold, then orange, then nothing at all.

No messages.

No calls.

No "Jo, let me explain."

Nothing.

By the time darkness had fallen completely over the town, her patience had already shattered into pieces she couldn’t sweep back together. She stared at her phone on the nightstand like it had personally betrayed her. Still nothing.

Where was he?

Still with Heather?

Still choosing her?

The silence screamed louder than any words ever could. And the longer it stretched, the more her hurt began to burn.

Why was she always the one waiting?

Why was he always the one walking away?

And why—God, why—was it always for her?

If he wanted space, he’d get it.

If he wanted her to stay away... she would.

She stood up with a fierce calm, opened the wardrobe, and began to pack. Not hastily. Not messily. Deliberate folds. Careful stacking. She wasn’t running.

Let him come find her this time.

If he even wanted to.

By the time she descended the stairs, the butler was already there, waiting as though he’d known she’d come.

He looked devastated—heartbroken in a way that made her own eyes sting—but still, he didn’t ask. He only stepped forward to take her suitcase like it was the last thing he could do for her.

Joanne paused at the door, her hand resting on the edge of the gilded frame.

"Thank you," she said softly, looking at him with all the warmth and sadness in her chest. "Thank you for hosting me with so much love and care."

She smiled, bittersweet.

"Jeffrey asked me to stay away," she continued, her voice level now, as if the decision had settled into her bones. "And that’s what I’m going to do. He knows where I live."

The butler gave a small nod, his eyes glassy but proud.

And then she stepped outside, the night air wrapping around her like a quiet promise. The garden lights flickered behind her. The mansion loomed in silence.

She didn’t look back.

She was done waiting.