Mag-log inHours after my wedding blew up in my face, I was finally home. A stack of papers and the wedding ring commissioned from the top designers at my company sat in plain view on my coffee table.
“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” Vanessa said before heading upstairs.
I walked over to the living room and flipped through the papers. It was a divorce agreement already filled out and signed. I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Celeste was looking for attention.
She was just a spoiled housewife. She’d be begging me to take her back in a couple of days when she realised she’s nothing without me.
I tossed the papers aside and sunk into the sofa, exhausted. Today was a massive failure that hurt both my pride and my pocket. Celeste was always good at wasting my money, but today really took the cake.
I sighed. At least Vanessa had handled announcing the wedding cancellation surprisingly well. I was happy to learn she had other talents besides incredible sex.
“You threw our family away when you slept with that backstabbing bitch.”
Celeste’s words hung around my mind like mosquitos. I did my best to swat them away, but they stuck around, ringing in my ear.
It irritated me that Celeste chose our wedding day to discover my relationship with Vanessa. We had been sleeping together for months already. But she was so dense I thought she’d never catch on.
I certainly never thought she’d give me divorce papers.
“Babe?” Vanessa called out.
“I’m in the living room.”
She wore one of Celeste’s lace nightgowns. It fit Vanessa better, showing off her curves. Her hips swayed deliciously as she walked over.
“Where’s Bonnie?” I asked as she settled into the cushions beside me.
“Oh, she’s playing in her room.”
Vanessa rested her head on my shoulder and looked up at me with warm brown eyes.
“How are you holding up?” She asked gently.
I exhaled and faced the TV. “Let’s just say today didn’t go as planned.”
“Don’t be upset, babe. There’s a bright side to all this.” Her voice became a purr. “I understand you so much better than she did.”
“Is that so?” I raised an eyebrow.
Vanessa leaned closer. Her lips touched my ear as she whispered.
“Ah-huh. I know just how to make you happy.”
My body immediately responded. All good reason flew out the door when Vanessa decided it was time to play. Much like earlier in the fitting room.
“And how exactly will you do that?” I asked, as desire flooded my veins.
Vanessa’s fingers trailed down my arm.
“Why don’t we take this to the bedroom and I’ll show you?”
She punctuated the sentence by playfully biting my earlobe.
I couldn’t stand her teasing any longer. I grabbed her by the jaw and lifted her face to devour her mouth.
“Daddy, I’m hungry.”
I pulled us apart to see Bonnie walking into the living room, rubbing her belly.
“I want food.” She demanded.
That was the second time today that someone interrupted my fun. I suppressed a groan.
Vanessa was adjusting her clothes beside me.
“Go make Bonnie something to eat.”
She froze. The silence stretched, and I felt my patience slip.
“I actually don’t know how to cook.” She laughed nervously. “Let’s just order takeout.”
How had I not realised how undomesticated she was?
Thinking back to our late nights at the office and so-called business trips, she had not cooked once for me. This revelation caught me off guard. It was an extreme inconvenience.
What kind of woman didn’t know how to cook?
“Fine.” I said, my mood soured, “Order something. Just feed her.”
Bonnie folded her arms and pouted.
She muttered under her breath. “I want Mommy’s cooking.”
Bonnie’s scrunched up face pulled on my heartstrings.
I didn’t want to be the one to call first. I was already revelling in Celeste’s inevitable return with her tail between her legs.
But it was hard for me to see my daughter so unhappy. I did everything I could to provide her with the very best.
If she wanted her mother’s cooking, that’s what she’d get.
“Don’t sulk, Bon-Bon.” I said. “I’ll get you Mommy’s cooking.”
She smiled at me like I was a superhero. Finally, a win today.
I dug my phone out of my pocket.
“Why do you need to call her? Takeout would only take like thirty minutes.” Vanessa nagged.
I gave her a hard look. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you knew how to cook.”
She looked away as I dialled Celeste. The phone rang for several moments. With each ring I felt a frustration build up inside me I couldn’t place.
Just when I was about to end the call, she picked up.
“What do you want?”
Her clipped tone and rude demeanor stunned me. Was this the same woman I had been married to for five years?
My voice was firm. “Come home and make dinner.”
Celeste laughed. It was so unexpected. I hadn’t heard that sound in ages.
“You’re kidding, right?” She asked as her laughter subsided.
What was wrong with her? Did she have a mental break after finding out about my affair? Whatever it was, it was annoying the hell out of me.
“I’m being serious, Celeste. Bonnie is hungry, so get your lazy ass home now and make us something to eat.”
“Why don’t you ask Vanessa to cook for you?”
My annoyance was becoming anger. How many times did I have to tell her something before it got through her thick head?
I stood up and paced the living room.
“She can’t cook.” I said through gritted teeth. “Just get over here now or so help me Celeste I will—”
“You’ll what? Have an affair?” Contempt laced her voice. “If your whore can’t cook, then you better pick up a spatula and start learning, Damien.”
She cut the call.
My jaw dropped. Never in all the time I had known her, had Celeste ever refused me or spoken to me like that.
“Is Mommy coming?” Bonnie asked with wide eyes.
My grip on my phone tightened as the sickening feeling of something slipping out of reach tormented me.
Ryan’s POVIt started with a ping. Then another.By the fifth one, I knew something was wrong.Jenny came barreling into my office, phone in hand, eyes wide. “You need to see this.”I frowned. “What now?”She turned the screen toward me.A blurry photo, grainy, shot from someone’s phone, showed Celeste and me walking out of the airport with Molly between us.Celeste’s hand rested protectively on Molly’s shoulder while mine held the suitcase. Molly’s face was turned away, a pink hat covering most of her head.The headline screamed: “SECRET CHILD? Celeste Sinclair and Ryan Edwards spotted with mystery child in Belgium, hiding a family?”I blinked once. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”Jenny groaned. “I wish I was. It’s already on five gossip blogs and two jewelry forums. They’re speculating she’s your daughter.”“My… what?!” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “She’s six. How could I even hide a whole child for that long?”Jenny gave me a helpless look. “Logic isn’t their strong suit.”I sigh
Celeste’s POVMolly sat cross-legged on the rug beside my desk, a box of colored pencils scattered around her.Her tongue poked out in concentration as she tried to copy one of Ryan’s sketches from the wall, a little bird perched on a gemstone.She had insisted on coming with me to the studio that morning, and though Grace had raised an eyebrow, I’d stood firm.“She’s been through too much,” I’d said. “Let her stay close until she’s ready for school again.”Now, watching her hum softly under her breath, I knew I’d made the right choice.The sparkle in her eyes was faint but alive again.I turned back to my workbench, where the Paraiba tourmaline lay under the light, that impossible blue-green, like a drop of the ocean frozen in crystal.Beautiful, yes. But fractured. The internal inclusions caught the light unevenly, scattering it like broken glass.I exhaled, leaning back. “It’s fighting me again.”Ryan looked up from across the table, where he was polishing a silver frame.“You say t
Celeste’s POVThe paperwork was done faster than I’d imagined.Ryan handled most of it.He filled in details, printed signatures, made copies while I sat beside Vivian, trying not to cry as she thanked me over and over again.When it was all over, Vivian hugged me tightly.“Just until we sort things out with the board,” she whispered. “You’re the only one she feels safe with.”I nodded, swallowing the ache in my throat. “You don’t have to explain. She’s family.”Beside me, Ryan was silent, his hand resting on Molly’s shoulder protectively.His jaw was tight, but when our eyes met, something softened there.On the flight home, Molly fell asleep almost the moment we took off, her head resting on Ryan’s arm.I watched her breathing even out, her lips parting in that childlike peace only sleep could bring.Ryan looked down at her, his expression unreadable, then carefully adjusted the blanket around her shoulders.“You should sleep too,” he said quietly, turning toward me.“I can’t,” I whi
Celeste’s POVVivian and Steven’s house sat on the edge of Antwerp.Molly had recovered enough to sit up and chatter again, but I could still see the shadows under her eyes when she tired.We’d stayed longer than planned, partly because I refused to leave her until she was fully well, partly because Ryan didn’t want to as well.That afternoon, the rain returned.Steven sat across from me in the living room, looking uncharacteristically unsure.Vivian lingered near the window, twisting her wedding ring in slow, anxious circles before she came to sit beside Steven.“Celeste,” Steven began, voice strained, “we need to ask you for something. Something big.”Vivian’s hands trembled slightly as she set her teacup down.“Celeste,” she began softly, her voice thin with exhaustion, “we need to talk to you about Molly.”Something in her tone made my heart clench.I glanced at Ryan, who was sitting beside me on the couch, his hand loosely wrapped around his coffee mug.His expression had turned c
Celeste’s POVAntwerp smelled like rain.The drive from the airport had been a blur of gray streets.Ryan silent beside me, his hand tapping restlessly against his knee.When we finally reached the children’s ward, Vivian was already waiting in the corridor.Her face was pale, hair messy, a coffee cup trembling slightly in her grip.“She’s stable,” she said before either of us could speak. “The fever’s down. But she’s… she’s been quiet. Won’t talk. Won’t eat.”Ryan’s jaw clenched.“Can we see her?” I asked.Vivian nodded.The room was small, pale yellow, with paper cranes hanging from the ceiling.Molly lay curled under a thin blanket, her hair sticking to her forehead, her small hands limp at her sides.The sight of her, once so bright and loud, hit something deep in me.I moved closer, pulling a chair beside the bed.“Hey, sweetheart,” I whispered. “It’s Aunt Celeste.”No response.Ryan stood by the door, shoulders tight, eyes locked on his niece like he could will her back to life.
Celeste’s POVI sat by the window in the plane, forehead resting against the cold glass, watching the night dissolve beneath us..Somewhere below all that darkness was Belgium.Somewhere in that small hospital bed, Molly was burning up.Ryan hadn’t said much since takeoff.He sat beside me, elbows on his knees, fingers knotted loosely together.Every few minutes, I’d catch him glancing at his phone checking up if Vivian had given any updates.I’d tried to bury myself in sketches, notes for the competition, the half-finished Paraiba design folded neatly inside my sketchbook.But every time I opened it, the soft glow of that rare turquoise-blue stone haunted me.It was supposed to represent “rebirth.”I couldn’t stop thinking about Molly, her laughter, her tiny hands stained with watercolor paLife had felt brighter with her in it.I closed the sketchbook. “We’re missing the presentation round tomorrow.”Ryan turned slightly, his eyes finding mine in the dim cabin light. “Rachel will man







