CHAPTER 8

The moment Jeff left, something unexpected stirred inside me.

Curiosity.

I hated it. Hated that even after everything, I still cared enough to wonder. But Jeff had mentioned his father, and despite everything that had happened, Adam Ortega had never been the enemy. If anything, he had been the only light in my past with the Ortegas.

I turned to Sabrina. "Find out which room Adam Ortega is in. Now."

Sabrina hesitated for only a moment before nodding and stepping away. Within minutes, she returned with the information. "He's in room 312. He was rushed in earlier—almost had a mild stroke."

My stomach twisted. A stroke? Adam had always been a strong, stubborn man, but he wasn’t invincible. I couldn’t ignore this. Not when he had once treated me like his own daughter.

Without another word, I made my way to his room.

The beeping machines and sterile hospital air greeted me as I entered. Adam looked weaker than I had ever seen him, lying against the pillows with an IV in his arm. But his eyes—those sharp, intelligent eyes—immediately softened when they landed on me.

"Demi," he breathed, trying to sit up straighter. "You came."

I forced a small smile. "Of course, Adam. How are you feeling?"

"Old," he huffed, then chuckled weakly. "But better now that you’re here."

Silence stretched between us, filled only by the distant sounds of the hospital. Then Adam spoke again, voice quieter this time. "Come back home, Demi."

I stiffened. I had expected him to be happy to see me, but I hadn’t expected this.

"Adam…"

"Please, Demi." His expression was earnest, filled with something that made my heart ache. "I never wanted you to leave in the first place. You were my daughter before you were my son's wife. And if Jeff was too blind to see what he had, that was his loss, not mine."

His words struck something deep inside me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I appreciate that, Adam. More than you know. But I can’t."

His face fell.

"It’s too complicated," I whispered, my voice barely steady. "Too much has happened."

Adam sighed, looking down at his hands. "I was afraid you’d say that."

The sadness in his voice nearly broke me. He had been the father figure I never had, the one person in that family who had always been kind to me. And now, I was hurting him.

I stood abruptly, afraid that if I stayed any longer, I would break. "You should rest, Adam."

He nodded slowly, resignation in his eyes. "Take care of yourself, Demi."

I forced another smile, turned, and walked out of the room. But the moment the door clicked shut behind me, my chest tightened unbearably.

I nearly cried right then and there.

Because for the first time in years, I had hurt the one person I never wanted to disappoint. And yet, no matter how much I wanted to ease his pain, I knew I couldn't give him what he asked for.

Coming back home… wasn't an option.

Back in my office, I sat behind my desk, staring at the wall, my thoughts tangled. I had been so certain of my decision, but Adam’s words lingered, stirring emotions I wasn’t ready to confront.

A soft knock at the door broke my daze.

"Come in," I called, my voice more steady than I felt.

Brent stepped inside, his sharp gaze scanning me before he closed the door. "You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

I exhaled a tired laugh. "Might as well have."

He leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "Jeff or his father?"

I glanced away. "Both."

Brent didn’t rush me. He simply waited, his presence grounding me. Finally, I spoke.

"I visited Adam after Jeff left. He asked me to come back home."

Brent’s brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t seem surprised. "And?"

"I told him no." My voice was quiet. "But it wasn’t easy."

Brent nodded, his expression unreadable. "Adam cares about you. Probably more than his own son ever did."

I swallowed hard. "I know. That’s what makes it hurt."

A moment of silence stretched between us before Brent spoke again. "Demi, I respect that you went to see him. He’s important to you, and that’s okay. But you need to be firm about your decision."

I met his gaze. "You think I should just leave it all behind?"

"You have to if you want to move forward." His voice was steady, unwavering. "Holding onto the past—whether it’s guilt, nostalgia, or unfinished business—will only drag you down. You left for a reason, Demi. Don’t let sentimentality pull you back into a life you already chose to walk away from."

His words settled deep within me, forcing me to confront what I had been trying to avoid.

I inhaled deeply, then nodded. "You’re right."

A smirk tugged at Brent’s lips. "Of course, I am."

Despite everything, I smiled. "Thanks, Brent."

He shrugged. "Anytime. Just don’t make me drag you out of there myself."

I chuckled, shaking my head. The weight on my chest hadn’t completely lifted, but it felt just a little easier to bear.

And maybe, just maybe, I was finally ready to move forward.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, remnants of last night’s conversation with Adam and Brent still lingering in my mind. Moving forward. I had told Brent he was right, and I meant it. But doing so was easier said than done.

I arrived at the office earlier than usual, hoping to drown my thoughts in work. The air was crisp, the city just beginning to stir, but my mind was already running a marathon. My assistant, Sabrina, greeted me with a coffee and a hesitant look.

"You have a visitor waiting in the lobby," she said carefully.

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Please don’t say it’s Jeff."

"It’s not," she said, offering a slight smile. "It’s Adam."

My heart stuttered. "Adam? Here?"

She nodded. "He insisted. He looks better today, but… I think you should see him."

I hesitated for only a moment before exhaling sharply. "Send him in."

A few minutes later, Adam Ortega walked into my office, looking much stronger than he had the night before. His usual sharpness had returned, though his face still bore traces of exhaustion.

"Demi," he greeted warmly, taking a seat across from me.

"Adam," I said, clasping my hands together to keep them steady. "You shouldn’t be out of bed."

He waved a dismissive hand. "I’ve spent enough time lying down. Besides, I needed to see you."

I braced myself. "I already told you—"

"I know," he interrupted gently. "And I understand. I didn’t come here to pressure you, Demi. I just wanted to say my piece."

I swallowed hard. "Go on."

He leaned forward slightly. "I may not agree with your decision, but I respect it. What Jeff did… what happened between you two… I can’t change that. But I need you to know that my home—our home—will always be open to you. Not as Jeff’s ex-wife, but as someone I consider family."

My throat tightened. "Adam…"

"That’s all I wanted to say," he said, offering a small smile. "You don’t have to respond now. Or ever. Just… know that you still have people who care about you."

I exhaled shakily. "Thank you."

He stood, gripping the edge of my desk for balance. "Take care of yourself, Demi."

I watched him leave, feeling a strange mix of relief and sorrow. Adam had given me something I hadn’t realized I needed—permission to let go without guilt.

Brent walked in moments later, eyes scanning my face. "You okay?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I think I will be."

For the first time in a long time, I meant it.