Three years ago, Angela was saved by Lyle in an accident, and the two quickly developed a relationship and moved in together. However, Lyle's adopted sister, Fiona, frequently interferes in their lives, and Lyle always prioritizes Fiona's needs, causing Angela to feel neglected and suspect that they are more than just siblings. On her birthday, Angela plans to propose to Lyle, but Fiona interrupts again, causing Angela to lose control of her emotions and suffer an accidental miscarriage. Devastated, Angela decides to break up with him. After the breakup, Angela reunites with her old classmate, Michael, who takes great care of her. Just then, however, she discovers that Lyle knows about her miscarriage.
View MoreLyle POVFiona looks smaller than I remember.She’s curled up in the sterile hospital bed, her arms wrapped around her frail frame, her hair slightly disheveled, her eyes wide and rimmed with red. But as soon as she sees my mother, her entire face crumbles.“Mother,” she whispers, voice hoarse and trembling, then louder, more desperate, “Mother!”My mother rushes forward, gathering Fiona into her arms as if she’s still a child in need of comfort. Fiona clings to her, sobbing against her shoulder, her fingers twisting into the expensive silk of my mother’s blouse like she’s afraid she’ll be torn away.“Shh, sweetheart, I’m here,” my mother soothes, stroking Fiona’s hair as tears slip down her own face. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”“Please,” Fiona chokes out, her voice raw, shaking. “Don’t let them keep me here. Don’t let them treat me like I’m some kind of criminal.”My mother tightens her hold. “You’re not, darling. You’re not. You’re just sick, that’s all. And we’ll get you
Lyle POVThe silence in the car stretches long and heavy, thick with things left unsaid. My mother sits beside me, her posture elegant and composed as always, but I know her too well to be fooled by the calm exterior. She’s waiting. Waiting for me to speak first, waiting for me to say something that makes this entire situation more bearable.I don’t. The only reason I’m here, the only reason I agreed to this visit at all, is because Fiona is my sister. No matter what she’s done, no matter how much she’s broken, no matter how much I want to walk away and never look back—she is still my responsibility.My mother shifts slightly, her fingers tapping lightly against her knee before she finally breaks the silence. “I know you’re still upset.”I let out a sharp, humorless breath. Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it.“She’s still your sister, Lyle,” she says carefully.I keep my eyes on the road, gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles ache. “I know.”She exhales, turning to fully face
Angela's POVLyle turns and walks toward his car, his shoulders tense, his pace steady. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t say another word. I tell myself I should do the same—step inside, close the door, and leave him behind, just like I’ve been trying to do for months.I don’t.Instead, I watch him.My arms stay crossed, my fingers gripping my sleeves a little too tightly as I track every movement he makes. The way his hand tightens around the bouquet, the way he exhales deeply before finally tossing the flowers onto the passenger seat of his car. He hesitates for a fraction of a second before getting in, and then, with the smooth precision I know so well, he starts the engine and pulls away from the curb.I stand in the doorway, eyes fixed on the taillights as they fade into the night.“You’re still watching,” a voice deadpans behind me.I flinch slightly, tearing my gaze away and turning toward Jodelle, who is leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, looking far too please
Angela's POVSeeing Lyle standing there with flowers in his hands, I feel my breath catch, my mind torn between emotions I don’t have the energy to sort through.I don’t want to deal with him. Not tonight.I tighten my grip on my bag, willing my feet to move, to walk past him, to pretend I don’t see him. But before I can decide what to do, a sharp voice cuts through the air.“Oh, hell no. What do you think you’re doing here?”I snap my head to the side and see Jodelle storming toward us, her eyes blazing with protective fury. She stops in front of Lyle, arms crossed, planting herself like a human barricade between us.“Get lost, Grayson,” she snaps. “You’ve done enough damage.”Lyle doesn’t flinch. He shifts his gaze from her to me, his expression unreadable. “Angela,” he says, his voice quieter, steadier than I expect. “Can we talk?”“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jodelle answers before I can. “Whatever you have to say, she doesn’t need to hear it.”I can feel my pulse in my throat
Angela's POVThe day stretches on, steady and unrelenting. I bury myself in work, pushing aside every stray thought that tries to surface. Although I had Richard's approval, apparently, it wasn't enough.I move from one task to the next, flipping through contracts, revising policies, drafting documents that need my approval. It’s methodical, logical, something I can control. Every keystroke, every note scribbled in the margins, reminds me that I’m here because I earned it, because I fought for it.Even as I work, I can feel the attention. The quiet stares when I walk down the hallway, the way conversations shift the moment I step into a room. Some people don’t bother hiding their curiosity, their confusion. Others are more discreet, exchanging glances behind their monitors, whispering as I pass.It’s not surprising, really. To them, I was Lyle Grayson’s secretary, the woman who sat outside his office, managing his schedule and answering his calls. Now, I walk these halls in an entir
Angela's POVReturning to Grayson Enterprises feels strange.The glass doors slide open with a soft hiss, and I step into the familiar lobby, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Everything looks the same—the sleek, modern interior, the meticulously arranged floral centerpiece, the front desk where I used to check Lyle’s schedule a hundred times a day.I’m different now.I’m no longer Lyle Grayson’s secretary. I’m here as a lawyer, an independent professional, not someone who runs after his coffee or clears his calendar. Still, as I walk toward the elevator, I feel the weight of curious gazes on me.People recognize me. I can hear the whispers, feel their eyes tracking my every move."Is that Angela?""Didn’t she used to be the CEO’s secretary?""She’s a lawyer now, seriously?"I keep my face neutral, my back straight. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing any hesitation in my steps. I earned this.As I enter the elevator, a voice calls out behind me.“Angela?”
Angela's POVThe air in the restaurant shifts the moment Michael reaches into his pocket.I watch him carefully, my breath catching slightly, my fingers tightening around the base of my wine glass. A part of me already knows what’s coming, but I don’t want to acknowledge it—not yet.He looks up, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his lips part and the words come out, steady and sure.“I love you, Angela.”The sound of it, so simple yet so heavy, knocks the wind out of me.My fingers go slack against the glass, and I nearly forget to breathe. “What?”Michael leans forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as he watches me with unwavering intensity. “I’ve loved you for a long time,” he says again, more certain this time. “Even back in college. Even when you didn’t notice me that way.”I blink, trying to process, but my mind is stuck. College?“I always admired you, Angela,” he continues, his voice softer now, as if confessing something long buried. “Not just for how smar
Angela's POVToday was too much. Too many emotions, too many memories, and too many things I never wanted to think about again forcing their way to the surface. I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders in an attempt to release the tension.“What’s wrong?” Michael asks immediately, his voice low but firm.I sigh and shake my head, forcing a small, tired smile. “Nothing. Just a long day.”Michael doesn’t look convinced. His eyes flick over me, studying every detail—my slightly slumped shoulders, the tightness in my jaw, the way my fingers are gripping the strap of my bag just a little too hard. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, but I know him well enough to know that he probably has found something.I slide into the passenger seat, the scent of his cologne familiar, grounding. The door closes with a soft click, sealing us inside. He pulls away from the curb, he glances at me again.“Angela.” His tone is gentle but insistent. “Talk to me.”I stare straight ahead, my fingers tightening i
Lyle's POVFor the first time in months, I finally have Angela close again.Bringing her into my company through work was the most logical move—an excuse to see her, to talk to her, to make her presence in my life normal again. She might not realize it, but every small interaction, every brief glance in the hallways, every meeting where she has to sit across from me—it’s all a step toward pulling her back into my orbit.It should be enough. It should keep me grounded.It’s not.Instead of feeling in control, I feel like I’m losing my mind.Living under the same roof as Angela, knowing she’s only floors away, is nothing short of torture. I tell myself that proximity will dull the ache, that seeing her every day will make the longing fade, but it only amplifies it. The more I see her, the more I crave her.I tell myself I won’t go looking for her. After our explosive argument, we both need time to cool down. Seeking her out is a bad idea.I do it anyway.I rise from my chair and move t
Angela's POVThe moment Lyle’s phone rang, I knew he’d leave.Lying on the disheveled bed, still catching my breath, I watched him glance at the screen and tense up. It didn’t take long—he was already sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling his clothes back on, like nothing had just happened between us.“Who is it?” I ask, though the answer is obvious.“Fiona,” he says, voice clipped. “She’s threatening to kill herself again. I need to go.”Fiona. His adopted sister… but I have to wonder if maybe she’s something more.I sit up, pulling the sheet tighter around me, trying to keep my voice steady. “Lyle, it’s my birthday.” The words feel small, like they hold no weight with him.He doesn’t even turn around, just keeps dressing, his movements sharp and efficient, as if he’s already left in his mind. “I’ll make it up to you later.”I swallow hard. I don’t know why I expect him to stay. “Call her, please, and then let’s go back to bed.”He finally looks at me, but his eyes are cold, distan...
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