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**Arriving at the grand hotel’s restaurant, I stepped inside, my eyes darting around as I searched for Fielding. He’d said I would recognize him the moment I saw him, but standing there in the bustling space, I felt a wave of uncertainty.“He said I would recognize him. Where is he?” I muttered to myself, scanning the room, but nothing seemed familiar. The clink of cutlery and the low hum of conversation swirled around me, making me feel slightly out of place.I decided to step outside the restaurant, drawn toward the bridge just beyond it. The hotel was built over water, and the soft flow of the river beneath the glass walkway always had a calming effect on me. But as I approached, something—or rather someone—caught my eye. From a distance, I saw Amory’s unmistakable silhouette. My heart skipped a beat, a mixture of surprise and confusion washing over me.“Amory?” I called out softly, the name escaping my lips before I could stop it.He turned, his eyes locking onto min
**Emma's POV**“In the ward… he’s not breathing! If he stops breathing—” My voice cracked, panic tightening my throat like a vice.The doctor and I bolted back to the ward, my heart pounding, each step more frantic than the last. But when we pushed through the door, the bed where Amory had been laid was… empty.“He was right here!” I cried, spinning in disbelief. My stomach dropped, dread rising like a cold tide. What was happening? Where had they taken him?The doctor shot me a skeptical look, his eyes narrowing as if I was playing some kind of twisted joke. Before I could protest, a voice from outside the room caught his attention.“Doctor,” someone called, and without a word, he turned on his heel and left.Confusion clouded my thoughts, and I stumbled out of the room, my legs heavy, my mind spinning. Was I losing it? Had they moved Amory to another ward without telling me? The lobby was a sea of faces, people rushing back and forth, oblivious to my rising panic. I started searchin
**Emma's POV**“Amory doesn’t know you’re here?” Chairwoman asked, her voice casual as she sipped from a porcelain cup of coffee. The sunlight streaming through the large windows cast a warm glow on the dark wood of her luxurious office. Her gaze, however, was anything but warm—sharp and probing, as if she could see through every lie and every secret.I smiled, keeping my expression neutral. “No. I didn’t think I needed to tell him,” I replied calmly, my words steady despite the tension thrumming just beneath the surface.She set her cup down on the table, the soft clink of porcelain on glass echoing in the silence. She leaned back into the plush couch, crossing her legs. “Good. I called you up to ask you a question,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly as they bore into mine.I nodded, feeling the weight of her words even before they fully left her lips. “Go ahead, Chairwoman.”She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling with the effort. “Your father, Smith, asked me to assist
**Emma's POV**"But Mother, that is a bit much. You want the wedding to happen in a month?" Amory's father, Mr. Mantin, asked with a deep, gravelly voice that carried a mix of disbelief and hesitation.His question prompted a sharp response from Amory’s grandmother, the Chairwoman, who was lounging comfortably on the plush couch, her legs elegantly crossed. She was a woman of sharp resolve, and her opinion often held final sway in the their family.“If it’s going to happen, why wait?” she asked, her tone smooth but firm. “Don’t you agree?”Madam Elizabeth, Amory’s mother, hesitated for a moment before shaking her head, a gentle frown creasing her brow. She leaned slightly forward from her seat, her hands neatly clasped in her lap. “But, Mother, next month is way too soon,” she began, her voice soft but filled with worry.Mr. Mantin, catching on quickly, nodded in agreement. “You think so too, don’t you? It’s going to be difficult to pull off a wedding that fast,” he said, his gaze bri
**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,