She laughs, a genuine laugh that feels like a ripple across my skin. “You know that’s not what I meant. But she has this...unpredictable energy. You have to admit it’s kind of entertaining.” I pretend to sigh. “Oh, I know it too well. She’s a one-woman circus. Especially when she decides to steal her husband’s furniture right out from under him.” I pause, picturing the scene of Juniper packing up half her house while Isaac was out. “Can you imagine what he must’ve thought, walking into an empty house?” Desiree’s laughter bubbles up, shaking both of us. “The poor guy must’ve had a heart attack. Imagine coming home to... nothing. She’s wild. The idea of yanking out all the furniture and just...moving in here without a plan.” "Exactly. And not even a word about it until it’s halfway done. ‘Oh, I’ll just set up shop at Caspian and Desiree’s. They won’t mind. And Isaac...well, he’ll be fine with it. Eventually.’” I smirk, shaking my head. “I mean, how she didn’t expect him to call about
Desiree's POV For the first time in days—no, weeks—Caspian is finally heading out of the house. I watch him adjust his tie in the mirror by the door, his face looking oddly alive with something that almost resembles eagerness. He’s got that rare sparkle in his eye, the one I’ve seen too few times lately, as if he’s back to chasing some semblance of purpose. Finally. I lean against the doorframe, arms folded, giving him one last scrutinizing look as he straightens his coat. He catches my gaze in the mirror, giving me a lopsided smile, and it’s almost enough to soften me. Almost. “Don’t forget what we talked about,” he says, just like that, as if we’d been discussing mundane grocery lists and not the enormous and inconvenient subject of my estranged family. “What?” I ask, knowing full well what he’s getting at. His eyes narrow a fraction. “Call your parents, Cherry. Do it for me.” I make a face, one that I hope conveys just how little I want to hear this right now. “I’ll thi
“Desiree,” he says, with a sigh that feels too familiar. “Let’s not go down that road. She just wants to make amends. You know how she is.” “Oh, I know exactly how she is, Dad. Remember, she’s the one who threw me out because I wasn’t living up to her standards of… what was it?” I snap my fingers, recalling the exact wording she used, “moral purity? Because I was, God forbid, dancing?” I can almost hear him wince. “She… she wasn’t fair to you. I’ll give you that. But she’s tried to see things differently. We both have.” My stomach twists at his words, but I don’t know if it’s anger or something darker, something lonelier. “So that’s all it takes? I get married, and suddenly, she’s seeing things differently?” “Desiree, this isn’t easy for me either, you know.” His voice is low, pleading, as if he wants me to understand something I’m not quite grasping. “When you left… it wasn’t just you who left. It was a part of our family. A part of me. Maybe now… I don’t know. Maybe now we can…
“Yes.” Another pause, and she sounds almost surprised herself. “It’s me.” My hand is still on the edge of the sink, fingers digging in, anchoring me. A thousand things run through my head at once, and none of them make it out. Instead, I stand there, speechless, feeling like I’ve been kicked in the chest. She clears her throat, and I can almost picture her doing it—sitting on that worn floral couch in the living room back home, clutching her old phone with those thin, elegant fingers. “Your father called me. Said you two had talked.” “Yeah, we did.” I’m grasping at straws here, trying to find the right tone. Do I play it cool, cold, indifferent? Or do I ask her how the hell she got my number and what she thinks she’s doing calling me after all these years? “Did he tell you why he called me?” Her voice is light, but there’s something brittle underneath. I can feel it, that same tension from so long ago, like a knife edge that could slice me open if I’m not careful. “No,” I say. “H
Caspian's POV I just rounded up from a shareholders meeting that involved everyone saying Mabel's name in every sentence. She's now a parasite that won't go. A parasite doing too much damage. And maybe Juniper is right. The best way to expunge that parasite is through her family. I only wish Desiree were on board with it. I walk through the door, my mind still spinning. I kick off my shoes, looking forward to a quiet evening and hopefully a chance to forget about corporate betrayal. But something’s different. I see them as soon as I enter: flower petals, scattered across the floor, stretching like a path of tiny red flags. They’re not just in a line—they’re spread across the hardwood in an artful, winding trail, leading down the hall. I follow them, a smirk spreading across my face. There’s only one person who’d leave a path like this, especially one that leads so obviously to the bedroom. The door is slightly open, and I push it, stepping inside to see Desiree lounging on the be
Desiree looks up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yes,” she breathes, her voice barely audible. I can't help but smile as I undress her, my fingers tracing the contours of her body. Her skin is smooth and warm, and I can't get enough of it. I want to touch every inch of her, to make her feel every inch of me. As she lies there, completely exposed and vulnerable, I can feel her eyes on me. She's watching me, her gaze burning into my skin. I know that she wants me, that she needs me, and that she's ready to let go of everything else and just be in this moment with me. I slowly strip off my own clothes, my eyes never leaving hers. I want her to see me, to know that I'm all hers. And then, without another word, I climb onto the bed and position myself between her legs. “Are you ready?” I ask, my voice a low growl. She nods, her eyes never leaving mine. “Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling with desire. I can't help but smile as I enter her, feeling her warmth and wetness
“Right now?” I shake my head, half-exasperated, half-amused. “Can’t this wait till I’ve gotten a healthy dose of dopamine from you?” She laughs, a soft sound that’s both teasing and serious. “As tempting as that is, no. This can’t wait.” She pauses, her expression softening just a bit, though I can see that same intensity behind her eyes. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, Caspian. And I think there’s something you’re not telling me.” “What?” I try to keep my tone light, but there’s a weight behind her words, something that’s instantly sobering. “What are you talking about?” She shifts, sitting up a little straighter as she pulls the sheets around herself. “What did you and Juniper really discuss in that delivery room?” Her eyes search mine, unwavering. “And how does it involve my family?” For a second, I’m silent, the weight of her question sinking in. The shadows around us suddenly feel thicker, and I can see she’s not going to let this go. There’s an unspoken edge to her gaze, a sha
She’s silent, her gaze softening, the walls around her crumbling just a bit. “You’re really something, you know that?” I smile, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I’ve heard.” For a long moment, we just sit there, wrapped in each other’s presence, and I can feel the weight of her past, the bruises and scars that her family left on her. But there’s something else too—a flicker of hope, the tiniest spark of possibility. It’s fragile, tentative, but it’s there. “Maybe,” she whispers, almost like she’s testing the word. “Maybe it’s worth a shot. I don’t know if I’m ready to trust them again. But maybe I could try… for us.” I smile, feeling something light and fierce surge through me. I know this isn’t a decision she’s come to lightly; it’s a leap into the unknown, a painful step toward a place she’s never thought she’d revisit. And for her to even consider it—it means more than words. “I don’t need you to forgive them, or even like them,” I say, my hand still holding