Chapter 534 Handing the Envelope to Albert
Night had fallen like a velvet curtain over the estate. Moonlight streamed through the windows like liquid silver, casting an ethereal glow across Yvette's pale features as she rose unsteadily from her wheelchair. Wrapped in loose pajamas that seemed to swallow her diminished frame, she made her way to the kitchen with faltering steps.
Opening the refrigerator, she gathered pasta and ingredients with trembling fingers, her weakened body struggling to maintain its grip on even the simplest items. Behind her, Beatrice's anxious voice cut through the silence.
"Mrs. Valdemar, what are you doing in the kitchen?" The housekeeper's tone carried genuine distress as she took in Yvette's fragile state. "You're not well enough for this—please, let me handle it!"
"I'm fine. I can manage." Yvette shook her head with quiet determination, her eyes blazing with stubborn resolve despite her physical frailty.
She understood everyone's concern, knew how her condition worried them all.
But tonight, she needed to do something meaningful for Albert. Today was his birthday, and after all the misunderstandings, all the times she'd pretended not to love him, she wanted him to feel the depth of her devotion.
With Beatrice's reluctant assistance, Yvette lit the burner and filled a pot with water. The housekeeper watched with growing unease as Yvette labored over the simple task.
"Mrs. Valdemar, please rest and let me take over," Beatrice pleaded, reaching for the wooden spoon in Yvette's unsteady grasp.
Yvette turned slightly, offering a gentle but resolute smile. "Really, it's alright. I want to make his pasta myself."
Though her voice was barely above a whisper, it carried unwavering conviction.
"But your condition..." Beatrice's worry was palpable.
"I know my limits."
Having cared for Yvette for months, Beatrice recognized that familiar steel beneath the silk. Yvette might appear delicate and accommodating, but once she set her mind to something, nothing could dissuade her.
With a resigned sigh, Beatrice stepped back. "I'll stay nearby in case you need anything."
"Go clean up the dining room instead. The children got cream everywhere in their excitement today, and you've done enough work. Don't worry about me—finish up and get some rest."
Beatrice's heart warmed at the consideration. "Of course, ma'am."
In the guest bedroom, only a single amber nightlight cast its warm glow across the spacious room. Albert's gentle patting gradually slowed as he gazed down at BoBo and CiCi's peaceful sleeping faces, finally allowing himself to relax.
The children had been too excited to settle down, chattering endlessly even as their eyelids drooped with exhaustion. He hadn't dared leave while they were restless, yet his thoughts kept drifting to Yvette, alone and waiting.
He wanted to spend every precious moment with her.
Once assured of their deep slumber, Albert pressed tender kisses to their soft, warm cheeks before quietly slipping from the room. Despite his fatigue, contentment softened his features as he headed toward the master bedroom.
Expecting to find Yvette asleep, he pushed open the door to an empty room. Panic seized his chest like an iron fist.
Given her weakness and difficulty walking, where could she have gone?
He hurried downstairs, ready to question the staff, when he spotted her wheelchair abandoned by the kitchen entrance. Through the doorway, he could see Yvette's slight figure standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.
Her silhouette looked heartbreakingly fragile, as if a strong breeze might topple her.
Albert's heart clenched with a mixture of tenderness and fury as his sharp gaze found Beatrice tidying the adjacent room.
How could someone who'd cared for Yvette so long allow such negligence? Didn't she understand how precarious Yvette's health was?
"What the hell is going on here?" Albert's voice cut through the air like a blade as he strode toward the kitchen. "Why aren't you watching her? You know damn well what her condition is—she shouldn't be cooking her own meals!"
His tone carried the unmistakable authority of a man accustomed to being obeyed, and Beatrice flinched at his sudden appearance and harsh rebuke.
But seeing the genuine fear and anxiety beneath his anger, she understood this was Albert's way of expressing his terror for Yvette's wellbeing.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Valdemar. It was my fault," Beatrice whispered, bowing her head in contrition.
Before Albert could voice his concerns, Yvette turned with a soft smile. "Could you help me carry this?"
Albert immediately stepped forward, lifting the steaming bowl of pasta and setting it on the dining table before returning to support her trembling form.
"If you were hungry, you should have asked them to cook," he murmured, his voice gentled with concern. "You need to rest."
"Did you see what it was?" Yvette asked, her eyes twinkling with something he couldn't quite identify.
Albert paused, confusion flickering across his features. "What do you mean?"
"Birthday pasta, made especially for you." Her smile bloomed like a flower in moonlight. "Happy birthday, Albert."
The moon hung like a luminous pearl in the midnight sky, bathing everything in its silvery radiance. Albert sat at the dining table, savoring each bite of the aromatic pasta while Yvette watched with quiet satisfaction painting her features.
After he'd finished every last strand and Beatrice had cleared the dishes, Albert wheeled Yvette onto the balcony where they sat side by side in comfortable silence, drinking in the night's beauty.
The moon cast its gentle benediction over them, and Albert felt like the most fortunate man alive. Yvette gazed at him with eyes full of tenderness and contentment, their shared glances speaking volumes that words could never capture.
Albert wished he could freeze this perfect moment, preserve it like a photograph for eternity.
A soft chime from the electronic clock broke their reverie. Both turned to see 11:59 glowing on the display—his birthday was nearly over.
"Your special day is almost finished," Yvette observed with a wistful smile.
"Yes." Albert drew her closer, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. "But this has been the happiest birthday of my entire life."
After everything they'd endured—the separation, the misunderstandings, the near-loss of each other—this quiet intimacy felt like a miracle.
To have her back, to finally understand each other's hearts, was worth every moment of anguish.
Yvette nestled her head against his shoulder, her voice soft as silk. "Did you enjoy your gift?"
"It was perfect. But having you safely home is the greatest present I could ever receive." Albert paused, then looked down at her with playful curiosity. "Though you mentioned a second gift—something important. My birthday's almost over, you know."
Yvette's body tensed almost imperceptibly as she drew a steadying breath. She'd known this moment would come, had been both dreading and anticipating it.
Would he believe her this time? Would he understand?
With deliberate care, she reached behind her wheelchair and withdrew a heavy envelope that seemed to carry the weight of her very soul.
"What's this?" Albert asked, accepting the mysterious package with raised eyebrows.
"Open it and see," Yvette whispered.
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