Enchanted Nightfall: Falling for Destiny

Cecilia was fuming, flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. It wasn't typical for a mother to interrupt her son's feast. But worry had driven her to it, fearing that the person with him was none other than that little vixen. And to her dismay, her suspicions were confirmed.

She shot Quintessa a glare, "You're making things up. You just got here; it couldn't have finished so fast."

Quintessa casually draped an arm over Tyrone's shoulder, "Oh, but why not? Your son's always been quick."

Tyrone, already short on patience, darkened at her words. Quick? He hadn't even gotten to the good part yet. How could she say he was quick?

Tyrone turned around and his face immediately darkened.

Quintessa was wearing one of his oversized T-shirts, no one knows how she found it so quickly.

The men's clothes hung on her like a dress, making her look even more fragile and petite. She leaned forward, allowing him to look down the collar from his angle, seeing everything at a glance. Her slender and straight legs, as tender as newly sprouted willow branches in early spring.

This version of Quintessa reignited the flame Tyrone's mom had momentarily doused.

Grinding his teeth, he said, "Who are you calling quick?"

Quintessa flicked her hair, teasing, "You, obviously. Did I say something wrong?"

Cecilia, taken aback, began to wonder.

Circling back to Cecilia, Quintessa chimed, "Auntie, didn't you say you made something delicious? Let's go eat."

Snapping back to reality, Cecilia asserted, "I made it for my son, not for you."

Quintessa was undeterred and pulled Cecilia towards the kitchen, "Oh, come on, it's all the same."

Cecilia tried to free herself from her arms, "Stop pulling me. The sight of you vexes me."

Quintessa laughed it off, "That's

unfortunate because you're going to be seeing a lot more of me.

son

is quite smitten, after all,ght

want to stock up on some aspirin."

Cecilia was so furious that she couldn't utter a single word.

Every encounter with Quintessa left her at a loss for words. Her son was right; she couldn't outplay this sly vixen, especially when her son didn't take her side.

Watching the two women bicker their way downstairs, Tyrone's face was a stormy black.

He angrily kicked the door, "What was I thinking? A hotel would have been better than home."

The headache he felt was a pulsing reminder of his frustration.

Looking down, he muttered, "We'll make it, eventually."All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

With gritted teeth, Tyrone went to the bathroom for a moment of respite.

Downstairs, Quintessa was playfully arguing with Cecilia while enjoying the barbecue ribs she had prepared Despite their bickering, Quintessa found Cecilia's company somewhat refreshing. It was unusual to describe a woman in her des as "simple" and "kind," but Cecilia was just that.

V

Cecilia's dislike for Quintessa was genuine, a natural reaction for any mother wary of a "femme fatale" ensnaring her son. Yet, her kindness was unmistakable. She lacked the aloofness and entitlement often found in the affluent; she had treated Quintessa without disdain despite her disapproval. This set her apart from Fiona and Lilian.

For families of wealth like the Yorks, having someone like Cecilia is indeed rare.

This elderly lady is truly endearing.

Quintessa found herself envious of Tyrone for having such a good mother.