Knoxx’s Point of View“Join us.”Adrian’s invitation rings in my head, smug and deliberate. The way he says it—like Caroline and he are some exclusive pair inviting an outsider—sets my teeth on edge. But the idea of leaving Caroline alone with him for dinner? That’s not happening.The words leave my mouth before I’ve fully thought them through. “Fine. I’ll join you.”The shift in their expressions is immediate. Caroline’s eyes widen, and Adrian’s smirk falters just enough to fuel my satisfaction. Clearly, they didn’t see that coming.“You will?” Adrian recovers quickly, raising an eyebrow.“I will,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. “Why not? It’s dinner. And it's my wife who you are with.”Caroline glances between us, visibly uncomfortable. “Um... are you sure, Knoxx?”I meet her gaze
The soft buzz of notifications on my phone feels almost surreal. Each chime brings a new order, a new message, or another follower on our studio’s Instagram page. I sit at my desk in the corner of the studio, my laptop open to a sea of congratulatory emails and order confirmations. The energy in the room is electric, buzzing with the excitement of a thriving business.“Caroline, you have to see this!” Lisa exclaims, practically running over to my desk. She’s holding her phone, her grin so wide it’s infectious. “Another celebrity just posted about your designs! Look!”She thrusts her phone into my hands, and there it is: a photo of a stunning actress wearing one of my necklaces, the caption praising the craftsmanship and uniqueness. The comments section is exploding with admiration and inquiries about where to buy it.“This is amazing,” I whisper, feeling a rush of pride and disbelief.Lisa nods vigorously, her excitement matching my own. “Amazing? Caroline, this is huge! Do you realiz
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe soft sound of the front door creaking open pulls me from my thoughts. I’m seated in the living room, my hands wrapped tightly around a mug of cooling tea. My mind replays Dolly’s smug smile as she flaunted that bracelet—my bracelet design, no less. When Knoxx steps inside, loosening his tie with one hand and carrying his briefcase in the other, I take a deep breath, bracing myself.He spots me immediately. “Hey,” he says, his tone casual as he sets his briefcase down. “You look like you’ve had a long day.”I set the mug down on the coffee table and fold my arms. “We need to talk.”His brow furrows slightly as he shrugs off his suit jacket, draping it over the arm of a chair. “Okay. What’s going on?”I stand up, unable to keep still. “Dolly showed me the bracelet you bought her.”He blinks, clearly caught off guard. &ld
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe soft light of the afternoon spills through the window, warming the room as Knoxx’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.“I want to make it up to you,” he says, standing a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets.I raise an eyebrow, skeptical but answer with cold tone, “Make up for what?”Knoxx sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “For being an idiot. For buying her that gift without considering your feeling… after I promise I won’t do things that will hurt you,” he says, his tone lighter but still earnest. “I’ve been terrible at keeping promises, Caroline, especially when it comes to spending time with you. Let me take you on a proper date.”A proper date. The words hit me with a mix of excitement and disbelief. A part of me wants to scoff at the idea—after all, how many times has he said something similar, only to leave me waiting? But another part of me, the one that still hopes, stirs with anticipation.“Are you serious?” I ask cautiously, narrowin
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe evening air wraps around me as I step outside the restaurant, trying to gather my thoughts after Knoxx’s abrupt departure. The ache in my chest feels heavier with each passing second, the humiliation of being left alone gnawing at my composure. I clutch my purse tightly, fighting back the sting of tears. But before I can decide what to do next, a familiar figure steps out from the shadows.“Adrian?” I say, startled.He’s leaning casually against a sleek car, dressed impeccably as always. His presence is both surprising and strangely comforting.He flashes me that easy smile of his, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Fancy meeting you here,” he says, straightening up. “What a coincidence.”My brows furrow, suspicion flickering in my mind. “What are you doing here?”Adrian tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Secret,” he replies with a tea
Adrian’s smile widens, a glint of smug satisfaction in his eyes. “You left her alone, Knoxx. Someone had to step up and be the manKnoxx’s Point of ViewThe tires screech slightly as I pull into the hospital parking lot, my grip on the steering wheel tighter than it needs to be. My chest feels heavy, and my thoughts are racing. Caroline’s face flashes in my mind—the disappointment, the hurt in her eyes when I told her I had to leave. I’ll make it up to her, I promise myself. But first, I need to handle Dolly.I step out of the car, my suit jacket feeling heavier than it should. The fluorescent hospital lights seem to buzz louder than usual as I walk into the lobby, the sterile smell immediately assaulting my senses. I find Dolly in the maternity ward, lounging in a chair with her hand resting lightly on her stomach, looking perfectly calm. My irritation spikes.“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice sharp.
Caroline's Point of ViewI can feel the gaze of Knoxx on me because we are positioned near the door frame. He looks at me attentively, preparing himself for a battle. Not now, though – I don't want to make things get worse.I turn to Knoxx and say softly, “There is nothing go on, Knoxx. Adrian just help me. And thank you, Adrian, for your time tonight. It was…unexpected but appreciated.”Adrian’s easy smile returns, but there’s a glimmer of something more serious in his eyes. “Anything for you, Caroline. Always.”Knoxx's jaw clenches. He doesn't say anything, though. His fists clench at his sides for a brief moment, the tension there is obvious. Adrian nods at both of us before turning to walk away to his car, the silence that remains almost deafening.I turn back to Knoxx, meeting his piercing gaze. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but then he catches something in my expression. Whatever he sees m
Caroline’s Point of ViewThe sound of Knoxx’s car pulling into the driveway pulls me away from my book. I glance at the clock—past midnight. My chest tightens, a mix of irritation and worry bubbling to the surface.When the door swings open, Knoxx’s assistant steps in first, his expression apologetic as he struggles to support Knoxx, who is visibly drunk.“Mrs. Wayne,” the assistant says hesitantly, his voice low. “He had a few too many drinks at the dinner party. I tried to stop him, but you know how he gets.”My gaze shifts to Knoxx. His tie is undone, his shirt untucked, and his normally sharp eyes are glazed over. He’s leaning heavily on the assistant, mumbling incoherently.“I’m fine,” Knoxx slurs, trying to push the assistant away but nearly stumbling over his own feet.Before I can respond, Dolly’s voice cuts through the air. “What’s going on?”She appears in the hallway, her eyes narrowing as she takes in Knoxx’s state. Her expression twists in disgust. “He’s drunk?”“Very,” I
Caroline Point of ViewThe next day, I arrive at my shop early,expecting another day of long hours of cleaning up and fixing the mess of theday before. But when I emerge onto the sidewalk, I am stopped. The walls thathad been defaced with vulgar graffiti just yesterday are spotless. The crudewords spray-painted across my store’s sign are gone, as if they were neverthere. Even the sidewalk, which had been littered with trash, looks freshlycleaned.I blink, confused. Did the city workersclean it up? No, that wouldn’t make sense. There’s no way they’d work that fastfor a single shop.Then, I hear it.“Miss Hill, we are truly sorry!”I turn sharply toward the voice and see thesame group of men from yesterday—the ones who had demanded a protection fee.The same gangsters who had laughed when I told them I wasn’t paying them asingle cent. But now, instead of smug arrogance, they look… terrified.One of them, a burly man with a scarrunning down his cheek, actually bows. “We had no
Caroline’s Point of ViewI take a step back and look over the shop,pride swelling to the surface of my chest. The glass display cases, recentlyinstalled, shine with gentle light, and walls boast decorations of equally goodtaste carefully selected to enhance the classy image I had envisioned. My ownjewelry studio at last appears to be coming together. It has not been easy andI know there is more to come, but seeing it all begin to come together fills mewith hope.Tomorrow, I will have a soft opening, alow-key announcement to inform people that my brand is here. I don't want a biglaunch—just a steady, solid beginning. My work will speak for itself, and Ibelieve in it enough to know it will.But my happiness does not last long.The instant the front door is flung open, arough looking of men enter. There are three of them—tough-looking,leathery-clad, and with the odor of smoke about them. There is one, the tallestone, with a scar down the left side of his cheek. He advances fo
Dolly’sPoint of ViewIscroll through my phone, tapping my fingers on the screen as I read theannouncement for the jewelry design competition in Italy. A sneer forms on mylips. This company? I've never regarded them highly. They boast about theirtradition and craftsmanship, but they don't stand out to me. Yet, thecompetition is reputable, and the media attention is extensive. It’s the sortof opportunity that could transform someone’s life.Notthat I need them to change mine. I’m already the best. But I need leverage. Ineed a reason for Knoxx to finally take the next step.I turnmy head slightly, stealing a glance at him from across the room. He’s sprawledon the couch, his arm draped casually over the back as he watches my daughterplay with one of her toys. This moment should fill me with warmth, but instead,I feel a surge of frustration.It’sbeen years. Years since Caroline left. Years since I came back. And yet, hestill refuses to marry me. Still refuses to make ‘our’ f
Caroline’sPoint of ViewStaringat the laptop, I sit at my desk; the official announcement of the comingjewelry design contest in Italy blinks in front of me. My fingers hover aboutthe keyboard as I read the details for the tenth time.One ofthe most prestigious competitions in the industry, conducted globally by one ofthe oldest and most well-respected jewelry houses, the grand prize ismembership with them. But that is not why I am interested—more so with therecognition, not a position there. My new studio is just starting to find itsfeet, and to win or even just leave a mark in this competition might meangetting my break.Myheart starts racing as I almost lose my breath. Part of me is eager; that's thedrive to be able to prove myself. Another part lingers-a part that remembersthe hurt of last times.Welteringmemories, both unwelcome and painful, down into my mind-I remember back to whenI was last involved in such a competition. The anticipation and all that joylightin
Caroline’s Point of ViewI step into my home, feeling the warm comfort wraparound me like a warm blanket. Vanilla and the scent of something sweet bakingin the oven fill the air. It makes me feel welcome, relaxing me and comfortingme like I'm at home. It's the kind of warmth I imagined a family wouldhave, this feeling of being at home and comforted that overcomes me. I drop mybag on the floor and take a moment to soak it all in. In a flash, a tiny shaperuns towards me, breaking my moment of tranquility."Mommy! You're home!" My son launcheshimself into my arms, wrapping them around me. I wrap mine around him,breathing in his scent, feeling the strong beat of his little heart againstmine."I'm home, sweetheart," I whisper,leaving a kiss on the crown of his head.He looks at me, his eyes shining. "Daddy'smaking my birthday cake! It'll be out soon. He'll be out in a minute!"Wait!Daddy?I freeze. The warmth in my chest stutters for abrief second.I glance around. The house
Caroline’s Point of ViewI am paralyzed with shock. My breath getsstuck somewhere in the throat and my heart pounds in my chest. This isoverwhelming. I'm not sure what to say or think as thereality of his words sinks in.What?Before I can even process his words, theworld around me blurs, and everything else fades into the background.He said what?I stare at Adrian, my heart pounding, my brainstruggling to process his words."You… what?" I manage to say, my voicetrembling and soft. Did I really hear him correctly? Did he genuinely just tellthe kindergarten that we were engaged? He leans back against the bench, licking his icecream as if he hasn't just dropped a bomb on me and, after a moment, smirks."Relax, I am just kidding."I blink, completely caught off guard."What?" I ask, trying to grasp what just happened. He laughs, obviously getting a kick out of myreaction. "I didn't say we were engaged. I just made a small donation tohelp them build a new playground. They ag
Caroline’s Point of ViewI still feel anxious after leaving thekindergarten. Even when I try to ignore it, it sticks in my mind. The best ofeverything should be offered to my son, and I feel that I failed him today.When we walked out, I still remember the look on his little face. It was atthat point his expression changed, his shoulders drooping like they were heavy.Despite being so young, he had to deal with rejection for something he didn'tdo wrong.That burden falls on me alone.I take a sharp breath and shake my head,trying to dispel the thoughts that haunt me. But they cling on, refusing to letgo.Adrian notices, of course. He always picksup on when something is bothering me. Whenever I am bothered by something, heis the first to pick up on it. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he watchesme poke cold food on my plate. "Caroline," he says, his voice amixture of softness and concern. “Stop overthinking.”I look up, surprised by his insight. “I’mnot—”“You are,” he g
Caroline’s Point of ViewI sit in the principal’s office and clutchthe edge of my chair and listen to her polite but firm refusal. Her expressionis neutral, professional; but I catch the judgement hiding in her meticulouslychosen words.“We thank you for your interest, Miss Hill,” she says with atight-lipped smile. "However, we have very limited spots available, and weprioritize students who come from stable backgrounds. That is morebeneficial for children than providing a quote-unquote stable or consistentenvironment."I stiffen. "My son has a supportiveand consistent environment," I say, keeping my voice calm even though mystomach twists. The principal folds her hands on the deskand nods, though her smile doesn’t meet her eyes. “I’m sure you do your best,but there are some challenges as a single mother that you may not anticipate.We have a very rigorous academic structure here, and we’ve noticed that children from two-parenthouseholds do really well in this kind of env
Caroline’s Point of ViewSilence fills the car, thick and heavy like a blanket. My son's question keeps replaying in my mind, over and over, making it hard to think of anything else.“If Uncle Adrian is not my daddy… then who is?”My breath catches. I feel Adrian still beside me, his hands frozen on the steering wheel.I turn to face my son, but no words come out. My heart pounds as I try to find an answer—one that won’t hurt him. And for the first time in a long time, I realize I don’t know what to say.I never thought he would ask this. I wasn’t ready for it. I had hoped he wouldn’t wonder about it, especially not now when things seemed so steady. I thought he was already seeing Adrian as his father. I thought he wouldn’t even ask about the man who should be here but isn’t. I tried to shield him from this difficult truth. Clearly, I was wrong.I take a deep breath, feeling shaky. I turn to look at him. His big, innocent eyes are focused on me, filled with curiosity and expectation