DAHLIA'S POV The morning is dull and the sky humid. I make sure the kids wear jackets and have scarves tied around their neck before dropping them off at school. Throughout yesterday night and this morning, thoughts of Tristan have been on my mind. Our kiss, seeing him in so much pain. I wish everything didn't go down the way it did. I have had time to think about it too, and I owe Sunny an apology, and a huge thank you for her impact on my life and that of my kids. So in a good spirit, I make breakfast for Tristan and Sunny and dish theirs in a cooler. I freshen up, drop my kids at school and head to the hospital. The hospital environment always gives me jitters. Seeing people walk in and out with one condition or the other, in pain, receiving bad or good news. It's almost overwhelming, so I quickly make my way past everyone and head to Tristan's room. The door is a little open and I can hear someone talking. I walk in to see the doctor speaking to Tristan about his condition. Bu
CARLTON’S POV It's been three days since my encounter with Dahlia at the hospital. She still asks about Andre's health and I admire her for being so invested in his well being, something his own mother can never do. But that's about it. She has no interest in reiterating the conversation we were having that day and I respect that. It's a sensitive topic for her and I will be as patient as I can be. My patience seems to be wearing out as I stare at her while she assesses the beet roots on the shelves. We are at a raw food materials store. It's one of our events to prepare for the physical classes. After this we will converge at the front of the store to take pictures. So far everything has been going well except the constant urge to speak to Dahlia. Ever since the day at the hospital, I keep getting intrigued by her. The little things she does, how her fingers gently caress the fruits, how her lips curve into a slight smile as she assesses vegetables. She must really like the thin
DAHLIA'S POV Again, Carlton has said something to implicate himself and me in the presence of Marigold. I should be elated but I don't feel like having a back and forth with Marigold. The look in her eyes shows that she wants to engage in a fight and any moment from now she'd have an outburst because of my presence here. My kids are here and the last thing I want to do is fight with Marigold in front of them. The last time that happened, it didn't end well for me. I'm not about to repeat it. So before Marigold can utter a word, I excuse myself from the situation. “I can see now is not a good time, we’ll just go.”I hold my kids by their hands and turn around to leave but Carlton stops me. He's suddenly beside me and his hands are on mine, holding me back. My eyes open in shock because of his actions. I don't know if he's trying to get Marigold infuriated because it's working. The look in her eyes shows that she could kill me right now. Her eyes are fixated on the contact betw
CARLTON’S POV Dahlia is probably the mother Andre wishes for. And I know that's an awful thing to say, but I've never seen react around any woman the way he does with her. He lets her speak, he listens to her and obeys her. Like Father, like son right?He sees something in her just like I do. I am still in awe at how Dahlia's kids were able to get Andre to laugh. I haven't seen my son laugh in months. And that speaks volumes. Am I a bad parent? Am I going about everything wrong?I'd have to get a parenting manual from Dahlia because how does she do that? Her kids bring a certain kind of joy with them that is just contagious, and Andre is no exception. When they live it always feels like the mood has been dulled, or the atmosphere is suddenly gloomy. Again, Andre is no exception, because since they left he has been salty and bitter. He went back to being the Andre that I'm used to but in a more intense level. I took everything in me to not call Dahlia and plead with her to bri
DAHLIA'S POV I am in the kitchen, making dinner, when Carlton's call comes in. It was shocking at first, why would Carlton call me by this time. Why would he even call me at all? As far as I know we've finalized all our plans for our classes. Except he has some new ideas, there's no reason for him to call me. I contemplated between answering the call or not. I was reluctant to answer it, especially since I didn't want to be caught off guard with what his reason might me. I did tell him about his mom's investigation. What if he's calling because she found something and he wants to query me. I let the phone ring for a while, weighing my options. It will be suspicious if I don't pick and I do have to go to work so whatever it is, he'll still find a way to ask me. Taking a deep breath, I swiped on call and put the phone to my ear. To my surprise, Carlton asked to speak with my kids for the sake of Andre. I was both relieved and agitated at the same time. But my kids will be sp
DAHLIA'S POV Why does Tristan have a picture of me when I was pregnant? He did say he kept tabs on me while I was in jail. But why is he showing me this? Did something happen?“Where did you get these?” I ask, picking up the pictures to examine them. I don't know what to think. Yes, these are pictures of my very pregnant self but why would anyone want these, let alone Tristan. “I got them from the investigator, Mrs. Stewart hired” He says with a satisfied look on his face. If only he knows how much he's comment is making me panic. My palms get sweaty and the pictures feels sticky on my hands. I drop them back on the counter and wipe my hands on my dress. “Wh…why would she want it? What is she doing with it?” I am stammering now. I stammer when I'm nervous or anxious just like every other person and Tristan notices. “Relax Dahlia. Remember I told you she was investigating your kids?”“Oh my God,” I gasp, interrupting him. That sneaky woman. Why can't she just let me be? “I int
DAHLIA'S POV Carlton and I get down from his car and make our way to the restaurant. I received the text if the address 30 minutes ago from Mrs. Stewart. The moment in the car was a bit awkward since none of us uttered a word. So I used that moment to check out the restaurant online. I mean, the woman could have arranged for us to meet a cafe, or Starbucks. But a Michelin star restaurant? I almost scared of what she wants to say now. What's the point of meeting a fancy restaurant like that? Well, Mrs. Stewart has always been one to flaunt her money so I'm not surprised. The exterior of the restaurant gives off an old 90’s vibe. As we move closer I can see the extravagant and expensive cars parked in the restaurants own car park. Valets are everywhere catching tossed keys and all. This looks like a restaurant for extremely wealthy people and from the look of things ngs not many people are inside. I mean, it's not a restaurant that just anybody can afford. We reach the
CARLTON'S POV The sound of sirens blaring seems all too familiar to me. I've been here one to many times, but now it's for a different purpose. A different person. I had received a call from my Father, he was breathing heavily and when he finally spoke, he said something no child will ever want to hear. “Your mom got into an accident, we are at the hospital,” he had said. It felt like my whole world was crumbling. Dahlia insisted on following, and frankly I wanted her too, I need her support, emotionally and physically. Dad didn't explain the nature of the accident. So I'm just panicking because I don't know if it's mild or chronic. Dahlia and I run quickly through the door of the hospital, passing my a few patients who are being rolled in with stretchers. I scan the room looking for any medical personnel I can find. Thankfully I see a doctor in scrubs and I quickly rush to him, with Dahlia following me every step of the way. “Mrs. Stewart, what room is she admitted in?” I a
DAHLIAThe night air bites at my skin, sharp and unforgiving. I wrap my jacket tighter around my body to ward off the cold. Carlton walks behind me with his hands shoved into his pockets. The shoot drained us but the silence of the streets and the distant glow of a coffee shop make it bearable at least. Out of nowhere, Carlton stops walking. “Thanks,” he says when I turn to look at him. “For everything. Helping me the fix the mess at he company.” “Don't mention it.” A smile warms my cheeks. “I mean it.” His expression turns serious, his breath fogging in the cold air. “I don't know what I would've done without your intervention.”“You figured it out eventually, I guess.”“I highly doubt that.” A smirk tugs at his lips and we resume walking again. We push into the warmth of the café. The scent of roasted coffee beans drapes itself around me like a cloak and I exhale, savoring it. We find a booth by the window, and I blow into my hands to keep them warm. “You going to the kids’ bo
MARIGOLDI barely slept a wink last night since Carlton turned down my advances and it's all Dahlia's fault. Ever since she returned, my husband has changed from the doting simp I married to this hard-hearted stranger. Even Andre has no fear for me anymore, ignoring me at most. I doubt he recognizes me as his mother anymore and it's all thanks to that woman who doesn't even know the father of her little bastards. Her constant presence in my life lingers like anad taste in my mouth. How do I spit her out? How do I get rid of her for good?Then almost immediately, an idea crept in like a small whisper in the back of my mind. It will do the job just perfectly. Morning comes and I'm woken by the sound of the usual routines of most mornings. Carlton moving around in the kitchen, the sizzling of food can be heard. I hear him head to Andre's room to get him ready for school and then feed him breakfast. When he comes back to our room, I close my eyes in pretence of being asleep.Jokes on
Dahlia’s Pov, As soon as he's discharged, we begin the drive home. It is quiet in the car. Tristian turns his head and looks out the window, lost in his thoughts. I grip the wheel, my mind replaying everything he told me: his parents leaving, his loneliness, the wash he built himself up from nothing. I never asked. I never cared to know him beyond what he was to me. Guilt creeps in unbidden . I take a deep breath and pull over in front of a mart. When I kill the ignition, he seems to come back to the present. He blinks, turning to me. “What are we doing?” I push open the door with an eyeroll. “Getting ice cream.”He scoffs. “You're kidding.” I don't even crack a smile as I step out. “Come or stay in the car.”A pause. Then, he sighs and follows, mumbling something I can't head under his breath. While inside, I grab a cart and head straight for the freezer section. Tristian watches me, eyebrow cocked. He's clearly unimpressed.“Ice cream, Dahlia? That's what this whole fuss is
I shoot up from my chair to break his fall. “Hey! Look at me!” My hands grip his shoulders to shake him but his eyes are unfocused. The severity of the situation dawns on me; he's not faking this.I don't think. I just move. I drag him up, practically carrying his weight as I rush out of the bar. Opening my door is stressful but I manage barely. Thankfully, a guy jumps to his feet and pushes it open. I get him into the car, my hands shaking as I start the engine.“Stay with me,” I snap, stepping harder on the gas. “Just breathe.” I don't even remember parking. The next thing I know, I'm yelling for help, nurses rushing toward us to wheel him away. Minutes stretches into hours and soon, the doctor and I walk out of his office where he's giving me advise on his to manage Tristian's health. As we approach Tristian's ward, a nurse steps out. “He's stable,” he tells us with a clipboard in his hand. My legs nearly give out with my heart slamming against my ribs. I exhale sharply, forc
DAHLIA'S POVThe air in the courthouse is suffocating with anticipation. I sit stiffly, hands clasped together to ward off anxiety and force myself to focus. Still, nothing prepares me for what happens next.Spencer. I feel my stomach plummet down several heights as he's brought forward. The moment our eyes meet, something cold slithers down my spine. I knew it. My gut has screamed his name all along, his involvement being a suspicion I didn't let take root in my heart.But here we are now to attend his trial.Marigold is at the podium too with her face as pale as death. There's a glimmer of hope in her eyes like she knows she doesn't belong here.Technically, she doesn't. Spencer does.The prosecutor wastes no time. “Spencer Callaghan, you are charged with attempted murder. Do you deny those accusations?”Silence stretches for a beat too long. Then, to my shock, he lets out a low chuckle which the entire room hears. “No,” he says with an eerily calm tone.A murmur ripplds throughout
NEXT CHAPTERCARLTON POVThe news about Marigold getting out should be a relief for me and Andre but it doesn't feel like one. I grip the steering wheel hard enough to break it in half as the car goes down a small slope.I'm irritated. No, that's an understatement. I'm agitated, anxious, hell I'm disgusted. It's probably wrong to be feeling this way at the news of your wife's arrival from jail. I can't help it. Not if it involves the happiness of my son because the truth is, he's been happy. Genuinely happy these past few weeks.With Dahlia in our lives, everything feels so easy and natural. There's no second-guessing, no manipulation or the weight of anything suffocating me. Andre has been living his best days, blending into Dahlia’s world like he belonged in it. Even though it shouldn't be happening.I exhale sharply to force the thoughts away to pull into the beach parking lot. This is the spot where Dahlia had picked so we could work on the cookbook. I must admit, I couldn't h
“I'm just saying—”“Well, don't. I don't need you slandering him.”He exhales deeply and I watch his knuckles whiten against the steering wheel. “You're defending him like he's some kind of saint. Dahlia, I'm just trying to look out for you.”“He might be no saint but at least he didn't kick me out to the curbs when he knew I had no one else to lean on.”His breath hitches in his throat like I've stuck a nerve. Good. I don't relent as irritation climbs to the surface. “Tristian is a better man than anyone would ever be.” And by anyone, I mean Carlton. “He didn't just show up when things were easy. He was there when my life was falling apart, when I was at rock bottom. Do you know what that's like? To have nothing? Not even a relative you can trust?”Of course he stays quiet. “He's the reason my kids and I are alive today. He came through for me when everyone's else turned their backs. So, no, I don't need you questioning him.”He flinches at my words as a shadow of guilt crosses his
DAHLIA'S POVFrom the moment his face freezes, I can tell something's off with him. His face closes off like a blank canvas, blocking any emotion from seeping to the surface. “What's wrong?” I ask. Sunny steps into the kitchen, wiping her hands on a dish towel with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, you look like you've seen a ghost that just walked through this room.”He bends to pick up his phone and slipping it into his pocket, refutes dodges the questions. “It's nothing. Just a minor issue at the company. I need to head out and deal with it.”I narrow my eyes in suspicion. He doesn't meet my gaze even as he speaks. “Minor? Are you sure about that? Because you don't look like it's minor.”“I said it's fine!” His outburst is sharp and it startles us, including Carlton. He moves towards the door. “I'll be back later.” He calls over his shoulder and then he's gone. Sunny clicks her tongue, tossing the towe onto the counter. “There's something wrong with him. You see how he couldn't even keep
MARIGOLDI pace the suffocating cell, reading the bold lettering on the newspaper. In rage that sets my blood boiling, I crumple and fling it to the floor. Still the headline remains burned into my brain: Carlton Stewart spotted dining with Dahlia Campbell.The details portrays them as business partners. As if. They can fool everyone but me. “Snake. She's been waiting for this. Waiting for the perfect moment to slide right in and play the Martyr. Thirsting for that which is no longer hers.” The entrance door to the cells corridor buzzes open and I've been in here long enough to know that a visitor just entered the premises. “You have visitors.” The gruff voice of the jailer says and I raise my head just in time to see my parents. The door slides open and they step in. They don't look happy to see me in such a sorry state. I don't even let them take another step before I bombard them with questions.“What are you doing about this?” I snap before they can open their mouths. “Have yo