"It was great to meet you today. Safe travels home," Grandmother said, her voice filled with warmth as she waved my parents off. Father responded with his usual charming smile. "I'll visit you soon, Chairwoman. There are a few things we need to discuss," he added with a nod, his tone holding a subtle layer of meaning that made me tense up. "Sounds good," she replied, her face brightening with a soft smile. I stood quietly, watching as Father opened the car door for Mother, who still hadn’t uttered a word of farewell. She moved with the same air of indifference she had displayed the entire afternoon, gracefully sliding into the passenger seat without so much as a glance in my direction. With one last glance at the car, I watched as Mr. Foden, mother's assistant, pulled away, taking them out of sight. As the car disappeared around the bend, the tension in the air didn’t follow. If anything, it seemed to intensify. Grandmother turned towards Amory’s mother, Madam Elizabeth, whose e
I was packing up the remnants of my life, shoving old clothes into a box that barely held the weight of all the memories it carried. The room room have lived in was thinning compared to my sister's own. This place, my cage for decades, was finally disappearing into the past. My mattress sat low to the ground, its springs worn and creaking beneath the weight of boxes and folded clothes. But for once, I didn’t mind. For the first time, I was smiling, my heart light as I packed up the final bits of this chapter. I was leaving my cell. The excitement surged through me as I remembered the first night I spent at Amory’s house. The feeling of sinking into a mattress that didn’t feel like it was made of bricks. The room had been enormous, like something out of a dream. For the first time, I had felt the kind of comfort that seemed only possible in fantasies. My phone vibrated suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. I glanced at the screen. Amory. His name lit up, and I felt my heart skip
There was a thick, suffocating silence between us as Zayn drove, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on me. I kept glancing at the rearview mirror, my stomach twisted into knots, wondering what he might be up to. His face was unreadable, his eyes locked on the road, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was brewing underneath that calm facade. When we finally arrived at Amory’s place, Zayn parked the car and gestured for me to stay seated. Without a word, he stepped out, heading to the trunk. I watched him through the side mirror, my heart racing as I prepared for whatever might happen next. I got out of the car, taking quick steps toward the entrance of the house. There were four small steps between me and the door, but I stood frozen on the top one, my pulse thudding in my ears. Zayn hoisted my boxes and bags out of the trunk, approaching me with them in tow. "I’ll put them inside," he said sharply, his tone stiff and cold. I met his gaze with an icy look of m
I turned, heading back for the other box, but his words stopped me in my tracks. "Amory is a dangerous person," Zayn said, his voice urgent. "I’m telling you this because I care about you. He’s not who you think he is." I rolled my eyes, continuing toward him to grab the second box, but he didn’t stop. "For sure, he has some ulterior motive," Zayn pressed. "You know he tried to kill someone, right?" I froze, my hand hovering just above the handle of the box. His words were like a slap in the face, sharp and unexpected. I turned to face him, my heart pounding. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my mind, but the weight of Zayn's accusation hung in the air like a thick fog. I stared at him, my voice shaking when I finally managed to speak. "What?" "Amory is a dangerous person... he pushed his own brother off a boat. And from that incident, his brother was disabled," he said with so much sincerity in his voice. The shock gripped me like icy fingers around my throat, tightening
I'm sitting in Grandpa's room at the nursing home, the faint smell of antiseptic mingling with the warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the window. The small table between us feels more like a world of its own, a sanctuary for our conversations. I peel the apple I brought, each slice revealing the crisp white flesh, a familiar ritual that brings a smile to his weathered face. But today, something's off. I glance up from the apple, noticing his finger pressed to his lips, a habit of his when he’s lost in thought. "Grandpa, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" My voice is steady, laced with concern. He looks up, surprise in his eyes, and quickly removes his hand. "It's nothing," he says, but the heaviness in his voice betrays him. "I just feel like I'm not being helpful." The words strike me like a blow. I set down the knife and lean forward, urgency bubbling in my chest. "What do you mean? Just a little ago, thanks to you..." His expression shifts, shock overtaking him
After leaving Grandpa’s place at the nursing home, I head straight to cooking class, my mind buzzing. Today we were learning how to make brownies, and even though I had only recently started the class, I could feel myself improving with each attempt. The scent of baking chocolate hit me as soon as I walked into the room, and the hum of my classmates working filled the air.“Everyone, be careful. It’s hot. Let the brownies cool at room temperature for a bit, and I’ll come around to check them,” our instructor said calmly, her voice carrying across the kitchen. She then left her counter to make the rounds.I fumbled with the plastic wrapping of the ingredients, tearing it open, my focus sharp. Across from me, I noticed the woman working beside me had already pulled her brownie from the oven, the golden-brown surface gleaming. A wave of shock and panic hit me, and I quickly grabbed an oven mitt, slipped it onto my hand, and opened the oven to retrieve my own creation.As I pulled the tra
Later that evening, I was heading to my room, my head still buzzing with the day's events. Just as I reached for the door, I heard the unmistakable sound of it being pushed open. I turned, my heart skipping a beat. It was Amory, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.“Amory!” I gasped. “You didn’t call. What’s going on?” My voice trembled slightly, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.He closed the door behind him, his eyes locking onto mine. “I’m hungry,” he said simply.“What?” I asked, taken aback by his bluntness.“I came to eat. Is there anything?” he said, making his way toward the kitchen.“Wait!” I rushed in front of him, pressing my hands against his chest to stop him from going any further. “Stay right here. Don’t move,” I said, hurrying ahead of him. I had to reach the kitchen before he did. The brownie—that brownie—couldn’t be the first thing he saw.I darted into the kitchen, my heart racing as I spotted the plate holding the brownie. Without thinking,
Amory’s POV**After leaving Emma's side, I couldn’t stop replaying her words in my head. The sharpness of her rejection, the way she drew a line between us, it hit me harder than I expected. The moment I walked out of her place, I drove aimlessly, feeling the weight of everything sinking in. It wasn’t long before I found myself at the hotel where I stayed whenever I didn’t feel like going home. It had become a familiar place, one I retreated to when I needed space.I headed straight for the bar, hoping a few drinks could dull the storm brewing in my mind. Sitting at the counter, I ordered something cold and strong. I stared into the glass, swirling the liquid as if it held the answers to the mess I found myself in. But the longer I sat there, the louder Emma's voice echoed in my thoughts. “This is a fake marriage, after all.” Those words gnawed at me, pulling me under, again and again.Just as I brought the glass to my lips, I heard the unmistakable click of high heels approaching fro
**Emma’s POV** Now I understand that there’s no greater joy than marrying the person you love and knowing they love you back just as deeply. A smile tugged at my lips as both Amory and I signed our names, finalizing our marriage registration. “Now, we just have to…” he said, glancing at me with a playful grin as we both reached for the stamp. “One, two, three,” we counted together, pressing the stamp onto the marriage license. With the finality of that gesture, we submitted our paperwork, and Amory pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as we walked through the lobby. “Congratulations!” voices echoed around us, and I turned to see Catherine, Mia, and some of Amory’s colleagues gathered there, cheering in surprise and joy. “Congratulations, brother! Congratulations, Emma!” Catherine’s voice was bright and happy. Her husband chimed in, grinning, “Just like old times, huh?” I couldn’t help but beam back, the warmth of their celebration washing over me
**Emma’s POV** The sun was barely up, and the morning air held a slight chill, but there was a warmth blooming in my heart that no weather could touch. I reached across the breakfast table, picking up a slice of toast, and took a contented bite. “I think my morning sickness is finally gone,” I said with a sense of relief, smiling as I chewed. My mother’s expression softened as she watched me, her own breakfast momentarily forgotten. “Thank goodness,” she sighed, her hand resting briefly on mine. “I was starting to worry about you, you know, since you’d barely been eating.” She reached over to fill my glass with water, the sunlight catching the faint lines on her hands, a reminder of all the years of love and work she had put into raising me. “Do you have a busy day ahead?” she asked, glancing up at me with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. I nodded, swallowing a sip of water. “There’s a meeting with Dad and Grandpa about the foundation, and then I’m meeting Amory in the evening
Emma POV After leaving Amory's father and grandmother, we finally made it back home. The quiet felt almost surreal after everything we'd been through. I helped Amory settle down on the couch, his steps still unsteady, his recovery a slow process. I could see the weariness in his eyes, but I also saw something else—a lightness that had been missing for so long. We hadn’t been sitting long when a sudden chime from outside caught our attention. I quickly stood, realizing what it was. I hurried to the door, finding a delivery man waiting, a small package in his hands. As I took the package and shut the door, Amory looked over, puzzled. “What is this?” he asked as I placed the package on the table. I couldn’t help but smile. “It’s from my mom. She sent some of her special homemade dishes for you. She thought you’d need the extra strength.” “Your mom actually did that?” he asked, looking genuinely touched. I nodded, feeling warmth at the memory of her kindness. “She took such g
Amory POV It had been almost two and a half months since I’d been confined to a hospital bed, and now, finally, I was going home. My body still felt weak; each step was slow and careful, but I was free. Emma, my mom, and I decided to stop by and visit Grandma and Father before heading home. I knew they’d been waiting anxiously for this moment. As soon as we stepped inside, my mother’s voice rang out, “Mother! Honey!” The joy in her voice was unmistakable. Grandma’s eyes widened as she saw me, her expression shifting from shock to sheer happiness in an instant. She rushed forward, enveloping me in a tight embrace, her joy overflowing. “Amory! You’re home!” she exclaimed, beaming. “You did good. You did good,” she murmured, releasing me and turning to give Emma a hug as well. “You, too,” she added, smiling warmly at her. My gaze shifted to my father, who moved closer, his own smile breaking through the usually stoic expression. “You did good,” he said simply, before pulling me i
**Emma’s POV** Two long, agonizing months had passed since Amory been injured by Fielding leaving him lying motionless in that sterile hospital bed, a shadow of the vibrant man I loved. Every day, I had sat by his side, watching the faint rise and fall of his chest, searching his face for any sign of movement, any flicker of life. Even after his second surgery, he lay unresponsive, leaving me to grapple with an ache that felt impossible to mend. I sat quietly, watching him. He looked so peaceful, as if he were only asleep. I reached for his hand, feeling the gentle warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips, and clutched it close. "Amory," I whispered, my voice barely audible in the stillness, "I finally understand why I was given a second chance at life… why I came back." The quiet beeping of the machines filled the silence, steady and constant, a reminder of just how fragile he was. I took a shaky breath, pressing his hand against my cheek, my tears flowing freely as I whispered, “
Emma POV After Madam Elizabeth left, the room fell quiet, filled only with the hum of machines. I was still processing all that had happened when, to my surprise, Mr. Foden entered. It had been days since I’d last seen him—days since I learned the shocking truth that artist Edward Jones was his father.“You don’t look well, Ms. Emma,” he said, settling into a chair nearby. His gaze was steady, filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.I sighed, sidestepping his observation. “How’s your father doing?” I asked, shifting the conversation away from myself.“He’s at the nursing home,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of sadness. He studied me closely, then continued, “What I said at the police station was quite shocking, wasn’t it?”I took a deep breath, the weight of it all pressing down on me. “I thought you might be connected to Edward Jones in some way. I didn’t know you were father and son.”He gave a small, regretful shake of his head. “I was sent to an orphanage so young
madam Elizabeth POV I sat down heavily on the couch, the tension from the hospital clinging to me like a weight I couldn’t shake. Emma was with Amory, still in critical condition after his first surgery, and the doctors were already discussing the need for another procedure. My heart twisted just thinking about it. “So, is there no progress on Amory?” Grandma’s voice was soft, yet tinged with worry. She was sitting across from me, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. I let out a long sigh, meeting her gaze. “They need to operate again. I’m so worried, Mother. What if he…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought. I couldn’t bear to voice my fears. “Don’t say that. We have to be strong, somehow,” my husband interjected as he stood from his chair. His voice was firm, but I could see the concern etched into his face. He left the room without another word, leaving Grandma and me in a heavy silence. Just then, the sharp sound of the doorbell shattered the quiet. One of the mai
Fielding POV The clanking of the cell door jolted me from my thoughts. A police officer swung it open, gesturing for me to step out. I was handcuffed, and as I stepped into the hall, I saw him: my father, sitting stiffly in the visitor center. His eyes fixed on me as I entered, an expression that was as cold as it was unforgiving.For a moment, I froze, unable to take another step. But I forced myself forward, one heavy step after the other, until I reached the chair across from him. We were separated only by a small table, yet the distance felt insurmountable. He remained silent, his face a tight mask of anger and disappointment.After a painfully long silence, he finally spoke, his voice a low growl. “How could you do such a thing?” he asked, his words dripping with disdain. “I thought, maybe, after all this time, you would change. I thought you’d learn something.” His voice broke, raw and filled with an intensity that made me look away, unable to hold his gaze.He continued, his t
We reached the hospital, and Amory was rushed inside while I was directed to the waiting area. I sank into one of the chairs, numb, with tears streaming down my cheeks as the reality of everything crashed over me.“Emma! Emma!” someone called, but I was lost in my turmoil, barely aware of my surroundings. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see Amory’s mother, Madam Elizabeth, standing before me, her face etched with worry.“What happened?” she asked, her voice trembling with fear as she knelt beside me.I took a deep breath, trying to muster the strength to explain, but the words felt heavy, almost impossible to say. “Amory… he got hurt trying to protect me,” I finally managed, my voice barely a whisper as I avoided her gaze, feeling the weight of guilt settle deeper in my chest.Madam Elizabeth gasped, her hands trembling. For a moment, I couldn’t bear to look at her, but she surprised me by pulling me into a gentle embrace, her hand rubbing my back soothingly. “It’s okay,