I was late. As I rushed across the busy pavement, the city in which I was standing buzzed with activity and vibrated with vitality. SoHo was in full swing, with galleries staging shows, art collectors weaving in and out of coffee shops, and the unmistakable buzz of creative minds. SoHo was a bustling neighborhood. Even though the big opening of my gallery was only a few days away, the weight of the final touches seemed to increase with each step that I took. In spite of the fact that today was meant to be about promotion and networking, my thoughts was too preoccupied with recent happenings.I felt as though I was caught between old flames after Caleb's abrupt reappearance, his approaches, and Tyler's clumsy attempts to reinsert himself in my life. The mystery love letters just made things more confusing than they already were. These letters had been arriving on a daily basis, and each one seemed to be that much more personal than the one that came before it. It was as though som
The following day came with an almost unreal silence. Torn between incredulity and the unnerving realization that the pieces finally fit, I had spent the whole of the night flipping Owen's business card over in my hand. The letters, the too-familiar feelings... they belonged to him. His objectives, which I was unaware of at the time, had tainted the amicable catch-up. I struggled to catch my breath now as I pushed open the entrance to the modern, minimalist foyer of M&T Galleries. I accepted Owen's invitation to come here prior to the discovery. Now that I knew what I had done, facing him was like taking a stage without a script. "Samantha," Owen gave me a friendly greeting in a relaxed, well-known voice. His effortless smile remained intact as he waited close to the receptionist's desk, looking dapper in a charcoal-gray jacket. I forced myself to grin and said, "Owen." "Come on," he replied, pointing to the corridor. "After I show you the area, we can have a conversation.
The rain fell steadily while I stood at the gallery's front window, watching the rivulets streak down the glass. My thoughts were still jumbled from yesterday's chat with Owen and the enigmatic, unfinished business of the letters. I attempted to concentrate on classifying pieces for an upcoming display, but the gnawing anxiety wouldn't let go. A harsh knock on the door made me jump. I turned to see Tyler standing just outside, his hair drenched from the rain and his hands stuffed into his coat pockets. He did not appear casual; rather, he appeared resolute, the set of his jaw indicating trouble. I sighed and unlocked the door. "Tyler," I said, keeping my tone calm. "What are you doing here?" He stepped inside, shaking water off his coat. "We need to talk." I pointed to the seating area near the gallery's back corner, directing him away from the front, where any visitors may notice us. I could sense his stress from the time we sat down. "Okay," I replied, folding my arms
As I sat cross-legged on the bed with my laptop closed next to me, unopened for hours, the calm of my room was filled with the gentle hum of the air conditioner. On the bedside table was a lukewarm cup of coffee. I was unable to concentrate on anything else as my mind swirled, entangled in a web of opposing feelings. Owen's revelation, still unfiltered and uneasy, echoed faintly. With each minute that went by, Tyler's admonition grew louder and more pointed. And his name, Caleb, kept coming back to me like a silent question mark. Is Tyler correct about him? Was there truly another side to the Caleb I knew, the one who had always come across as so confident, polished, and charming? I rubbed my temples while looking at the floor in blankness. Was I being naïve, because Caleb didn't seem like the kind to lie or take shortcuts? I began accumulating trivial, seemingly unimportant facts about him. His evasive justifications for leaving London. the vague remarks on his earlier endea
As I sat in the corner booth of the small café, my fingers were tight around a hot mug of coffee. In my mind, I kept going over what Tyler had said about Caleb. It was clear that last night's sleep for me wasn't good. When the doorbell rang, my heart skipped a beat, and I looked up, hoping Bella would hurry. She replied right away to my earlier SMS, which was almost meaningless. "Don't move. I'll be there."When the door opened again, she ran in with her bag around her wrist and half of her coat off. Even though Bella looked a little upset and had her dark hair in a messy bun, her worried eyes went straight to me. "What's wrong?" She slid into the seat across from me and tossed her bag aside, saying, "You look like you've seen a ghost." I ran a hand through my hair and admitted, "I don't even know where to start." Before I could stop them, the words came out. "That's Caleb." Bella knitted her brows together and leaned closer. "How about him? Did he do something?"Her unflinchi
I took a step back to make sure the wall frame was level before adjusting it. Except for the slight hum of traffic outside and the occasional footfall of people peeping through the window, the gallery was still today. The quiet that had descended around us was finally broken by Caleb's low, smooth voice. "You've surpassed yourself, Sam," he remarked, pointing to the colorful painting before us. "The show might be stolen by this one." He was standing with his arms folded when I turned around, looking at the piece as if he were truly enthralled. I didn't mind his compliments today, but it always seemed a bit too staged and polished. I required the diversion. "Thanks," I said, attempting to sound casual. "But you have a bias." With a subtle yet recognizable scent, he took a step closer. "Perhaps. But then, I can spot talent when I see it."Although the words were lovely, there was something strange about Caleb. He had been checking his phone all morning, frowning whenever he loo
The faint strains of instrumental jazz playing in the background blended with the gentle hum of conversation that filled the gallery. The subtle tang of paint and varnish blended with the aroma of freshly made coffee from the tiny corner cafe. A pair strolled about the room, whispering to one other and pointing to the pieces on exhibit. A pen was clicking absently against a notepad while I sat at my desk by the window. My cell buzzed and clattered on the wood floor. My stomach turned when Caleb's name appeared on the screen. I just stared at it for a while. I pushed the side button without giving it any thought, and I saw the call end up in voicemail. Even though I felt a lot of guilt, it wasn't enough to stop the doubts from eating away at me. I couldn't get Bella's remarks out of my thoughts from our café conversation: "Sam, there's something strange about him." The whispered phone conversation I heard, the rumors.. I wasn't sure if I wanted to put the puzzle pieces toget
As I stepped inside, the café was alive with activity, the perfume of freshly ground coffee beans mixed with the subtle aroma of cooked pastries. The line was long, but that was not unusual for this establishment. It had always been one of those trendy hangouts where folks huddled over laptops or caught up with friends. The sound of conversations mixed with the clinking of cups and the faint hiss of the espresso machine. I surveyed the room, feeling strangely out of place, but then I saw him. Tyler. He sat in a corner booth, dressed in his typical crisp black jacket and a white shirt with a slightly open collar, his stance both calm and tight. As I went in, his dark eyes raised and locked on mine almost immediately. There was that familiar spark of recognition, which always sent a rush of warmth through me, no matter how many times I saw him. He motioned me over, his lips curving into a faint smile. For a minute, I stood there, stuck in place, unsure if I was truly prepared
"I now pronounce you husband and wife."The words reverberated through the air as Samantha felt Tyler's warm hands cup her face. His blue eyes were so intense that her breath caught, and before she could blink, his lips were on hers. The kiss was slow and deep, sending goosebumps down her spine, and it sealed a commitment far bigger than any previous pledge. As guests stood clapping and whistling, cheers broke up all around them. White rose petals flew across the air, captured by the gentle evening breeze. Samantha let out a frantic giggle against Tyler's lips as he pulled her in closer. "We did it," she muttered. "We did," he said softly, leaning his forehead against hers. "And I'm never letting go." Samantha's heart felt fuller than ever as they went down the aisle together. Caleb was gone, the past was behind them, and a bright future awaited them. *** Six months later. Samantha sat in bed, fatigued but happy, her fingers tracing the newborn's small features cuddled again
Four days later. Samantha stood in front of the mirror, her heart racing against her ribs. The smooth ivory fabric of her bridal gown clung to her body like a second skin, with beautiful lace accents cascading down her arms. It should have been the best day of her life. But something seemed odd. She inhaled softly, attempting to push the anxiety away. Perhaps it was simply nerves. After everything they'd been through... Tyler's health issues, her father's death, the inheritance drama, Caleb's reappearance... it was understandable to be on edge. A gentle knock on the door made her jump. Bella looked inside, her eyes lit up. "Sam, you look…" She placed a hand on her chest. "Breathtaking." Samantha smiled, but Bella's countenance immediately changed, indicating that something was awry. "You okay?" Bella inquired, coming closer. Samantha hesitated before shaking her head. "I do not know. "I just have this feeling." Bella frowned. "The bad kind?" Samantha nodded. Befo
Samantha sat on the examination table and gripped the edge as the small, clean exam room was filled with the continuous beep of a monitor. With his leg hopping restlessly and his gaze darting between her and the closed door, Tyler sat next to her. "Blake, Samantha?" The physician came in, leafing through the file. She smiled politely and professionally and took the stool across from them. Samantha took a deep breath. "I am that." After looking over the chart, the doctor looked directly at Samantha. "Your bloodwork results have been returned." She hesitated. "You are expecting a child." There was a slight tilt to the room. Samantha blinked. "What?" The physician's grin grew softer. "You are roughly six weeks pregnant." From next to her came a sudden intake of breath. When Samantha looked back, she saw Tyler transfixed, his eyes wide, his lips slightly apart. He remained silent for a minute. Then his face changed, as though the realization had to come gradually. "You're..." He g
Despite the frantic energy pulsing through him, Tyler's hands remained calm as he adjusted the final candle on the table, filling the air with the aroma of fresh roses. As he had intended, the restaurant was deserted; he had rented out the whole place for the evening. The tastefully arranged table was bathed in a golden glow while soft instrumental music played in the background. He rolled his shoulders back and let out a breath. It has to be flawless tonight. He turned when he heard a familiar voice at the door. "Tyler?" Samantha stood in the doorway, looking both surprised and intrigued. With her hair falling over her shoulders, she looked stunning in a form-fitting emerald dress. Tyler took a deep breath. God, she's stunning. She glanced at the intimate scene and then back at him. "What's all this?" He moved forward and extended his hand. "Supper. Only us. After a moment of hesitation, she inserted her fingers inside his. Her tender touch stabilized and anchored hi
Tyler exhaled sharply as he pushed himself up from the therapy bench, sweat dampening his shirt. His muscles trembled from exertion, but he gritted his teeth and steadied himself. Samantha stood nearby, watching him with careful eyes, ready to step in if he faltered. “Easy,” she murmured. He shot her a look. “I’m fine.” She crossed her arms, one brow lifting. “You nearly collapsed last week. Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” Tyler sighed but didn’t argue. Truth be told, he still felt the weakness lingering in his limbs, the occasional dizziness that reminded him he wasn’t at full strength yet. But he was improving. And that mattered. The physical therapist, a middle-aged man named Greg, clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s enough for today. You don’t want to push too hard.” Tyler wiped a hand over his face and nodded. “Got it.” Samantha handed him a water bottle, and as he took a sip, her fingers brushed against his. It was a small, fleeting touch, but it g
Samantha paced the clean hallway, the only sound in the otherwise quiet room being the steady tapping of her heels on the shiny hospital floor. She detested medical facilities. I detested having to wait. She glanced at the clock, her arms folded tightly across her chest. Four hours. Tyler had spent four long, excruciating hours in surgery. She turned as she felt a hand on her shoulder and saw Owen standing next to her, holding a coffee cup in one hand and wearing a worried expression. He offered her the cup and added softly, "You must sit." Samantha gave a headshake. "I am unable to. Not until I'm certain he's alright. Owen leaned against the wall and moaned. "You have stood here the whole time. You're going to lose your mind. The lump in her throat was swallowed. "What happens if something goes right?" Her voice broke. "What if..." "Cease." Owen spoke in a friendly but stern tone. "Tyler is powerful. Additionally, he is being treated by one of the nation's top surgeons
Samantha's heels hitting the marble floor echoed down the long hallway. Her phone buzzed in her fingers, and another notice appeared on the screen. SCANDAL UNVEILS: CALEB WINTERS ENGAGED IN FRAUD, EMBEZZLEMENT, AND CORPORATE SABOTAGE. She barely had time to breathe before another one struck. JAMES BLAKE'S LEGACY RESTORED: NEW EVIDENCE CLEARS HIS NAME.Her father's name. She grabbed the phone tighter, exhaling gently as she pushed through the spinning doors of the company's offices. The lobby was a bustle of activity, with reporters stationed outside, employees chatting in tight clusters, and security on high alert. It had only been twelve hours since Owen revealed the incriminating proof, yet the corporate world had already imploded. "You did it," Owen said beside her, his voice low but forceful. Samantha caught his gaze. He appeared weary, his tie unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up after the all-nighter they had pulled. But there was a quiet contentment in his eyes, the sa
The sound of my phone buzzing woke me up. I sat up abruptly, my heart thumping as the faint light of Tyler's hospital room formed frightening shadows on the walls. The sterile aroma of antiseptic entered my nose, grounding me in the moment, but my mind was already racing. I reached for my phone, shivering my fingers as I unlocked it. A slew of notifications illuminated the screen. News notifications. Social media tags. Emails. Bella's name appeared on the screen, and I immediately picked up. "Sam, have you seen it?" Her voice was sharp and urgent. I swallowed hard, already dreading the response. "Seen what?" "Caleb has just gone public. He revealed critical information regarding your father's business. He describes it as a 'legacy of corruption.' "The media is all over it." My face was emptied of blood. My hold on the phone intensified. "Sam, are you there?" I forced myself to breathe. "I'm here." But I was not. I was in a downward spiral. My father had only been gon
I didn't think twice. Tyler's sickness worsened, so I temporarily closed the Art display. There are no explanations, no room for negotiation. My career had been my anchor for years, but just now, nothing was more important than being there for him. Now, as I sat in the dim hospital room, the only sound being the beeping of machines, I watched Tyler fall asleep. His face looked paler than usual, and he breathed slower and more measured. My fingers wrapped around his, and my thumb brushed lightly against his skin. I wanted to relieve his misery. I wished I could go back in time and make other choices to avoid this occurring again. But all I could do was stay here. The door creaked open, and Bella slid inside, holding two cups of coffee. She handed me one without saying anything and sat down beside me. “How’s he doing?” she inquired quietly. I exhaled and stroked my temple. "For the time being, things are stable. The physicians are still watching him. They'll decide soon wh