The Daughter He Abandoned Called Him A Stranger Chapter 02

The Daughter He Abandoned Called Him A Stranger Chapter 02

Back then, Nathaniel was the golden son of the Whitmore family, adored wherever he went, brilliant, ambitious, and full of restless confidence.

I, on the other hand, was just a girl from an ordinary family, trying to fight my way up in the design world with nothing but a little talent and a great deal of effort.

Our worlds should never have crossed, yet somehow, we ran straight into each other at an industry reception.

He used to say that the moment he saw the defiant look in my eyes, he was done for.

To be with me, he withstood enormous pressure from his family.

His father slammed the table and said, “Date her if you want, but don’t even think about bringing her into this family.”

His mother tried to reason with him. “A wife has to fit the family. Family background matters more than anything.”

His friends mocked me openly and behind my back, saying I had no family name, no stunning beauty, and God only knew what spell I had cast on him.

But Nathaniel loved me fiercely then, with a certainty that felt impossible to shake.

He held my hand in front of his parents and made his promise slowly, clearly. “The woman I want to marry is Evelyn Hart, not her family name or her background. If it isn’t her, I don’t want anyone.”

For me, he moved out of the Whitmore family home. With the first money he had saved on his own, he bought a modest apartment and designed every corner of it himself.

Our wedding did not have the kind of lavish spectacle his circle was used to, but it was warm, sincere, and entirely ours.

When he slipped the ring onto my finger, his eyes were red, but his voice was perfectly clear. “Evie, I’ll make you happy. I’ll prove it to everyone.”

The first two years of our marriage really were sweet.

Even when he was drowning in the early chaos of starting his business, he still remembered to bring home my favorite desserts. When I stayed up late working on design sketches, he stayed beside me.

We curled up on the couch watching old movies and walked hand in hand through empty streets before dawn.

Whenever he looked at me, the love in his eyes was always open and unmistakable.

But as his career grew, he inevitably began drifting back into the world he had come from.

He started needing me at formal events, needing me to become the kind of Mrs. Whitmore who could help his career instead of embarrassing it.

That was when my nightmare began.

I tried hard to learn etiquette, memorizing long lists of wineries and vintages and forcing myself to remember the backgrounds, preferences, and delicate taboos of every important person in his circle.

But whenever I stood in an expensive gown among women raised in that world from birth, I still felt like an impostor in borrowed silk.

They talked about horseback riding, jewelry, and overseas vacations, all things utterly foreign to me.

Their seemingly kind questions always found the exact place where my ignorance showed.

Sometimes, just one knowing glance between them was enough to shatter the confidence I had struggled so hard to build.

I tried to tell Nathaniel how lost and exhausted I felt.

At first, he would comfort me patiently. “Don’t mind them. Just be yourself.”

But after it happened too many times, his brows would draw together almost imperceptibly.

“Evie, you have to try to fit in. These are basic social obligations.”

That was when the first cracks began to show.

But by then, pregnancy had left me with no energy to care about any of it.

All my time and strength belonged to our daughter. I could no longer dress myself carefully the way I used to, study his preferences, or keep every part of his life perfectly arranged for him.

The hormones changed my body, and exhaustion wore me down until I barely recognized myself.

Once, he brought an important client home to pick up some documents. They walked in to find me in the living room, my hair a mess, my loungewear stained with milk, our crying daughter in my arms as I tried desperately to calm her.

He said nothing at the time.

But after seeing the client out, he stood alone on the balcony for a long time.

That night, for the first time, he did not pick up our daughter. He only stared out the window, his voice carrying a faint weariness I almost missed.

“Evie, look at yourself now. Do you still look anything like the woman I married?”

The words went through me cold.