As we drove home, the car was unusually quiet. Larry sat in the back, arms crossed, staring out the window. Sally, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought, her small hands fiddling with the hem of her school uniform. The tension in the air was palpable, but I wasn’t ready to break the silence just yet.
We turned a corner, the familiar streets rolling by, and I couldn’t shake the weight that had settled in my chest. The hospital visit, Rowan’s note, the principal’s stern expression—it all circled in my mind. But none of that mattered as much as what was really troubling me. I glanced at Sally through the rearview mirror. "Sally," I said softly, breaking the silence, "do you want to tell me what happened today?" She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before finally speaking. "It’s... it’s nothing, Mommy." "Nothing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, it wasn’t nothing. You had an asthma attack, and Larry got into a fight. Something happened. You can tell me." She didn’t respond immediately, and I waited, giving her the time she needed. Eventually, her voice came out in a small, shaky whisper. "They were making fun of me." I felt a sharp pang in my chest, my hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "Making fun of you? About what?" She swallowed, glancing at Larry as if she wasn’t sure whether to continue. He gave her a little nod, silently urging her on. "It’s because I don’t... I don’t have a father." Her words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. My hands trembled slightly on the wheel, and I forced myself to take a deep breath. "Who said that to you?" I asked, my voice more controlled than I felt. "Some of the girls... they were laughing about it. Said I was... different. That their dads come to pick them up or take them to school, but I don’t have one. And they kept asking where my dad was." The guilt hit me like a tidal wave, crashing over me and dragging me down. Sally’s voice was quiet, but her words were like a punch to the gut. I had always tried to protect them, to shield them from the complicated mess that was my past with Rowan. But now, here it was, creeping into their lives in ways I hadn’t anticipated. I didn’t want them to ever, ever know about Rowan. Not like this. They deserved better than the reality of who their father was—a man who had barely acknowledged their existence, who had stayed in the shadows. And the idea that Sally felt ashamed because of that? It broke my heart. I blinked back the sting of tears that threatened to well up. "Sally, listen to me," I said, keeping my voice steady. "You’re not different, okay? Not having a father around doesn’t make you less, not even a little bit." "But they said—" "I don’t care what they said," I interrupted gently. "You and Larry are loved. That’s what matters. I’m always going to be here for you, and you don’t need anyone else to make you feel whole." She looked down at her hands, her eyes glistening. "But why don’t I have a father like the other kids? Why... why is he gone?" That question hit me harder than I could’ve expected. How could I explain that her father, Rowan, chose to be absent? That his love for power and control meant he saw us as nothing more than obligations, mistakes, something to be pushed aside? "He’s... it’s complicated, honey," I said quietly. "But it’s not because of you. Never think that. Sometimes grown-ups make decisions that don’t make sense, and it has nothing to do with how much you’re loved." Larry, who had been silent this whole time, finally spoke up. "If he doesn’t care about us, then we don’t need him. Right, Mom?" I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Right, Larry. We don’t need him." But as I said those words, I couldn’t help but think about Rowan’s recent attempts to intrude on our lives. The note at the hospital, the way he was suddenly paying attention after years of silence. What was his game now? Was he going to try to be a part of their lives after all this time? I hated that he had this hold over me, this way of creeping into my thoughts when I least expected it. I wanted to protect my kids from him, to keep him at arm’s length, but how long could I do that before the truth came out? Before they started asking questions I didn’t have the strength to answer? The car rolled to a stop in front of our home, and I turned off the engine, taking a deep breath before facing the kids. "We’ll talk more about this later, okay? For now, let’s go inside, get some dinner, and rest. It’s been a long day." They both nodded, though I could tell Sally was still deep in thought. As we made our way inside, my mind was already racing ahead, trying to figure out my next move. One thing was certain—I needed to confront Rowan, once and for all. He wasn’t going to dictate the terms of our lives, not anymore. And if that meant dealing with him face-to-face, so be it. I’d protect my children from his influence, no matter what it took. As I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the mirror, I hesitated. The kids were already asleep, and now, all that was left to do was call the nanny and get ready for this charity event Asher had all but pressured me into attending. I pulled out my phone, scrolling until I found Emily's number and hit call. She picked up on the second ring. "Hey, Em. Are you free tonight?" "Let me guess," she said with a chuckle, "Asher's dragging you to some fancy event again?" I sighed. "You know me too well. I need you to watch the kids for a few hours. Sally had a rough day at school, so I’d prefer you stay over, just in case." "Of course. I’ll be there in twenty minutes," she replied, her voice warm. Emily had been with me since the twins were born, more than just a nanny—she was a friend. And in moments like these, when I felt like my life was spiraling out of control, she was a lifeline. “Thanks, Em. I owe you one.” “You owe me about a thousand, but who’s counting?” she teased before hanging up. I had barely ended the call when my doorbell rang. Confused, I walked to the door and opened it, only to find two impeccably dressed women standing on my porch, carrying garment bags. "Miss Laurent?" one of them asked, her expression professional and polite. I frowned. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you?" The woman smiled and glanced at her colleague. "Mr. Carmichael sent us. We're here to help you get ready for tonight." I rolled my eyes. Of course, Asher would go this far. “He really thinks I can’t get ready on my own, doesn’t he?” The woman just smiled and ushered me inside. “Shall we?” It felt a little surreal, being pampered and styled like this. They worked quickly, styling my hair into soft waves and applying makeup that somehow made me look more glamorous than I ever could have on my own. And when they finally zipped me into the dress—an elegant emerald green number that hugged my body perfectly—I couldn’t help but stare at my reflection. I looked… stunning. I barely recognized myself. Asher certainly had his way of making a statement. Emily arrived just as the stylists were finishing up. "Wow," she said, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of me. "Remi, you look like a goddess." “Thanks, but I feel like Asher is just trying to make a spectacle,” I said, smoothing down the fabric of the dress. “It’s too much.” “No such thing as too much when it comes to Asher Carmichael,” she laughed. "Go have fun. I'll handle the kids." I gave her a grateful hug before grabbing my clutch and heading out the door. The car Asher had sent was waiting at the curb, and as soon as I slid into the backseat, I exhaled slowly. I wasn’t looking forward to being in a room full of elites, but I also couldn’t deny that a part of me felt... excited. I needed this distraction, and maybe, just maybe, I could actually enjoy myself tonight. When I arrived at the charity event, it was already in full swing. The venue was breathtaking—an opulent ballroom with crystal chandeliers, glittering lights, and people dressed to the nines. As soon as I stepped inside, I spotted Asher. He was hard to miss, standing tall in a tailored black tuxedo, his sandy blonde hair perfectly styled. He looked every bit the powerful, dangerous man he was rumored to be, yet his easy smile made him approachable. He grinned when he saw me, pushing his sunglasses up onto his head. "Well, look at you. I knew you'd clean up well." I rolled my eyes playfully. "You act like I’m a lost cause." He chuckled, extending his hand to me. "Not a lost cause, Remi. Just a diamond in the rough. Come on, you’re the star tonight." As we walked further into the ballroom, I couldn’t help but notice the eyes following us. Whispers fluttered through the crowd, and I knew exactly why. Asher Carmichael didn’t bring just anyone to these kinds of events. And with all the rumors swirling about us, it was no surprise people were curious. "Asher," I whispered, leaning in as we passed a group of women who were clearly gossiping. "You’re just adding fuel to the fire, you know that?" He smirked, clearly unbothered. "Let them talk. They’ve got nothing better to do." "Yeah, well, I do," I muttered, though there was no real bite in my words. I was used to this by now—Asher and his devil-may-care attitude. He thrived on attention, and I supposed tonight was no different. As we made our way to the main floor, a waiter offered us champagne. Asher took a glass, and I politely declined. “I have kids,” I reminded him, earning a soft chuckle. "Right. Always the responsible one," he said, raising his glass to me. "But tonight, at least try to have fun. You deserve it." I smiled, appreciating his sentiment even if I knew I couldn’t fully let go. As much as I wanted to, my thoughts were already back at home with the twins. “Why are we really here, Asher?” I asked after a moment, glancing around the room. “This charity ball isn’t just about helping others, is it?” He shrugged. "It’s a little bit of both. Networking, reputation, rubbing shoulders with the right people. But yeah, we’re raising money for a good cause, too. Not everything’s a conspiracy, Remi." I gave him a skeptical look. "Sure, if you say so. But you can’t deny you love the spotlight." “Guilty,” he admitted with a grin. “But that’s not why I wanted you here. You need a break. You’ve been working non-stop, raising the kids, and dealing with... well, everything. Consider this my way of forcing you to take a night off.” I chuckled, “Well it's working, maybe–” “Asher.” A voice called out. We both turned and I swear. My heart sank as I looked up and realized who it was. Rowan's mother. And standing right beside her, just as cold and disapproving, was his father. They stared at me with thinly veiled contempt, and suddenly the air around us felt heavy. "Remi Laurent," Rowan's mother said, her voice dripping with disdain. "What a surprise. Though I can't say it's a pleasant one."As soon as Rowan’s mother uttered my name, I felt the shift in the air. My heart pounded, but I kept my face composed. This was not the first time I'd dealt with their disdain. But now, here, in front of everyone, I felt their judgment more acutely than ever."Oh, how the mighty have fallen," his mother sneered, her perfectly manicured hand lifting to inspect her nails, as if my presence was beneath her. "Tell me, how does it feel to be dragged into a world you don't belong in, Remi? Still clinging to that ridiculous notion of being with my son, are you?"I opened my mouth to speak, but Rowan's father cut in, his voice deep and condescending. "A woman like you," he said, shaking his head, "from a family with nothing to offer, clinging to the hope of elevating your status. It’s almost... pathetic."I clenched my fists, trying to control my temper. Every part of me wanted to speak up, but I was a guest here, and I knew they would only use my words against me.Before I could form a reply
Remi's POV I stood in front of an ornate mirror in the bridal suite, adjusting the lace on my wedding dress for the hundredth time. My hands trembled slightly, not from excitement, but from the nerves gnawing at my insides. I bit my lips in fear, again I was scared. I should be happy right? I was getting married to the man that I have crush on for years. But I wasn't. Because he didn't love me. No, he hated me. He looked at me as if he wanted to strangle me. But yet, here I am, getting married to said man. “Remember, Remi,” Aunt Victoria's voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and cold. Her blue eyes held no emotions as she tightened the corset. “Behave yourself. This is your chance to make something of your miserable life. Don’t screw it up.” She acted as if she was putting a necklace around my neck but I know that her plan was if I mess up she would strangle me to death. I bit back a retort, swallowing the bitterness that rose in my throat. Aunt Victoria’s words were a famili
The café buzzed around me, the noise of clinking cups and the murmur of conversations blending into a distant hum. Normally, the familiarity brought me peace, but today, everything grated on my nerves. My mind was restless, consumed by thoughts of Rowan and the tangled mess my life had become. I wiped down the counter again, my eyes flicking to the door, half-expecting him to walk in. Just thinking about him made my chest tighten. It had been a few days since our wedding, and while I had hoped the shock would wear off, it still clung to me like a heavy fog. Rowan Vaughn—the man who had once captivated me, the man I’d stupidly fallen for—was now a constant presence in my life. But the fantasy I had created about him had shattered the moment I walked down that aisle. He wasn’t the hero I had dreamt of. He was a nightmare wrapped in a tailored suit. Money had been paid to my aunt's account, just like Rowan promised. Jules was stable now, at least for the time being. But the cost... I d
"Rowan…” I whispered, trying to pull away, but his arms tightened around me. “Don't go. Please.” He looked so broken his eyes sad, his hair resting on his forehead, his breathing heavy. I gulped as my eyes trailed down to his lips. I should get a hold of myself. I shouldn't…but it was too late. His warm lips pressed against mine. I gasped, as his arm went around my waist pushing me closer to him. It was wrong. I knew it. But the way he kissed me—there was such raw, aching hunger that it made my knees weak. His lips were warm and demanding, it was as if the passion and sorrow pouring out of him. He kissed me as if I was the air he needed to breathe, as if losing this moment would destroy him. “I need you,” he gasped, his forehead falling against mine. His hands cupped my face, his thumbs brushing away tears I didn’t even realize had fallen. “You’re not losing me,” I whispered, not sure whether I was trying to convince him or myself. But the words felt hollow because I knew,
I never belonged here. Not in this house, not in this family, and certainly not as Rowan Vaughn’s wife. The Vaughns have always seen me as an outsider, a nobody. The maids made it clear enough in their whispers when they thought I wasn’t listening. I could hear them, though. I always heard them. "How did she even manage to marry him?" one of the maids had giggled as I passed the hallway. “She’s from that poor family, isn’t she? No connections, no wealth… Nothing,” the other chimed in, her voice dripping with disdain. I remember pausing, my hand gripping the bannister until my knuckles turned white. I wasn’t supposed to hear. But I did. “And she doesn’t even have a baby yet. At least she could’ve secured her place that way,” another voice had joined, one of the older maids. “But nope, empty. Bet it won’t be long before the family finds someone else more…suitable.” Their words clung to me like a weight, heavier than the loneliness that filled these walls. They all knew the truth —
The next day, as always, I sat alone, staring out the window, lost in my thoughts. My mind was a haze of depression, a heavy fog that refused to lift. I hallucinated the faint sounds of baby noises coming from the nursery, a room that was built for a child that never was born. As I sat there, tears began to fall, streaming down my face like a river of pain. I couldn't contain my grief any longer. The depression was eating at me and I have no friends. No one to talk to. The door opened, and I turned, expecting to see Rowan alone, but instead, a stunning woman stood beside him. She was a vision of beauty, with long, curly brown hair and piercing green eyes that sparkled like emeralds. Her skin was a radiant, sun-kissed glow, and her full lips curved into a bright, white smile. She wore a fitted red dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, showcasing her toned physique. A diamond necklace glimmered around her neck, drawing attention to her elegant collarbone. I was taken
Six years Later I adjusted the drip for Mrs. Isolde, who let out a soft cough. She was a frail but sharp woman in her eighties, her onyx eyes still bright as she stared at me. Her crowfoot clenching together with her warm smile. I had grown fond of her over the past few months that I started working as her personal doctor. "There you go, Mrs. Isolde," I said, smoothing the blanket over her legs on the wheelchair. "Thank you, dear," she replied, her voice raspy but affectionate. "You're such a blessing to have around." A smile spread across my face. Balancing my career as a surgeon and raising my twins, Larry and Sally, was no small feat, but moments like this made it all worthwhile. "It's my pleasure. You remind me of my own grandmother." Mrs. Isolde chuckled softly. "You're too kind, Isolde. Always so kind." As I tidied up her bedside table, the television in the corner of the room caught my attention. A news anchor's voice filled the room, announcing the day's headlines. "..
Gigi face fell as she stepped back, “What…what do you mean?”I tried to keep my face indifferent as I saw the hurt that passed through her face. It was hard to, especially knowing the man in there used to be the man I loved. “It means, he might forget you and every situation he was in.”“No…no…that's not…I don't believe…it can't be.”I wondered if she was going into shock, “Unless,” she shrieked, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. “You did this! This is your fault!”I blinked, the words hitting me like a slap in the face. “Gigi, calm down. I did everything I could to save him. He’s stable now, but—”“Stable?” she cut me off, her hands trembling as she pointed an accusing finger at me. “You call this stable? He could die! Or worse, you said he might have amnesia! How could you let this happen? You were supposed to be a surgeon, a doctor, and you couldn’t even do your job properly!”I stood there, trying to maintain my composure. I knew this wasn’t about me. Gigi was scare
As soon as Rowan’s mother uttered my name, I felt the shift in the air. My heart pounded, but I kept my face composed. This was not the first time I'd dealt with their disdain. But now, here, in front of everyone, I felt their judgment more acutely than ever."Oh, how the mighty have fallen," his mother sneered, her perfectly manicured hand lifting to inspect her nails, as if my presence was beneath her. "Tell me, how does it feel to be dragged into a world you don't belong in, Remi? Still clinging to that ridiculous notion of being with my son, are you?"I opened my mouth to speak, but Rowan's father cut in, his voice deep and condescending. "A woman like you," he said, shaking his head, "from a family with nothing to offer, clinging to the hope of elevating your status. It’s almost... pathetic."I clenched my fists, trying to control my temper. Every part of me wanted to speak up, but I was a guest here, and I knew they would only use my words against me.Before I could form a reply
As we drove home, the car was unusually quiet. Larry sat in the back, arms crossed, staring out the window. Sally, on the other hand, seemed lost in thought, her small hands fiddling with the hem of her school uniform. The tension in the air was palpable, but I wasn’t ready to break the silence just yet.We turned a corner, the familiar streets rolling by, and I couldn’t shake the weight that had settled in my chest. The hospital visit, Rowan’s note, the principal’s stern expression—it all circled in my mind. But none of that mattered as much as what was really troubling me.I glanced at Sally through the rearview mirror. "Sally," I said softly, breaking the silence, "do you want to tell me what happened today?"She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip before finally speaking. "It’s... it’s nothing, Mommy.""Nothing?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, it wasn’t nothing. You had an asthma attack, and Larry got into a fight. Something happened. You can tell me."She didn’t res
When I arrived at the school, my heart was racing. Larry getting into a fight wasn’t entirely shocking—he’d always had a temper, especially when it came to protecting his twin brother, Laura. But I didn’t expect a call about an actual fight. Not today.I rushed through the hallways, barely registering the other parents or the stern gaze of the school staff. When I entered the principal’s office, I found Larry sitting in one of the chairs, arms crossed and a sullen expression on his face. Laura, on the other hand, was pale, clutching his inhaler in one hand. The principal, Mr. Horton, stood behind his desk, arms folded, looking less than pleased."Ms. Laurent," he greeted me with a tight nod. "We need to talk."I quickly knelt by Laura’s chair, checking him over. "Laura, baby, are you okay?"He nodded weakly, but I could hear the slight wheeze in his breath. It wasn’t a full-blown asthma attack anymore, but he’d clearly been struggling earlier. I brushed the hair off his forehead, my h
I stepped out of the hospital, pulling my coat tighter around me as the cool evening breeze brushed against my skin. It had been another long day. I was ready to go home, pour myself a glass of wine, and maybe soak in a bath for a few minutes of peace. But as soon as I pushed through the glass doors, I spotted him.Asher Carmichael, leaning casually against his sleek, black car, wearing those damn sunglasses, even though the sun had already set. He looked like he’d stepped out of a magazine—broad shoulders, a tight black T-shirt that clung to his muscular chest, and jeans that fit him just right. His arms, tanned and rippling with muscle, were crossed over his chest, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips.Phew.I rolled my eyes as I approached him, pulling my bag higher onto my shoulder. "How many times have I told you to stop coming to my work, Asher?"He pushed himself off the car, walking toward me with that swagger he always had, sunglasses still on as if he were some sort of act
Rowan's POVI couldn't stop thinking about her.Like some obsessed fool. It was ridiculous, really. Dr. Remi Laurent. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face.Her lips, red and plump, those hazel eyes, her dark wave hair that was in a high ponytail. Every time I tried to focus on work, her voice echoed in my mind. I had met thousands of people in my life, but something about her stuck. It wasn't just her beauty — though that was undeniable — it was the way she carried herself, like she had a world of secrets beneath those eyes of hers.Her words cold, but her voice sweet like caramel. I shouldn’t care. I had no reason to care.I felt like a fool. And yet, here I was, staring at my phone like an idiot, debating whether to do something about it. The screen lit up with my assistant’s contact information. Callum was always the guy I turned to for this kind of thing. Efficient, discreet, and loyal to a fault.I hit the dial button without much of a second thought."Sir," Callum an
I stood in front of the glowing screen in the lab, my eyes tracing the scans of Rowan’s brain. It was incredible how delicate the human mind was—how one moment of trauma could rearrange everything, erase years, and leave you a stranger to your own life. His scans showed the aftermath of the surgery, the damaged areas of his brain that had been repaired, and the swollen sections that had likely led to his memory gaps.A soft knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. Dr. Carter, one of my colleagues, and good friend, the person who had gotten me my job, entered the room, holding a folder and a cup of coffee. He glanced at the scans and then at me, raising an eyebrow."So, how’s our miracle patient?" he asked, sipping from his cup as he moved to stand beside me.I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to push down the wave of emotions that had been rolling through me since Rowan woke up. "He’s awake, responsive... and smiling."Dr. Carter chuckled. "Smiling? That’s a good sign.""Y
I walked briskly down the sterile hospital corridor, my mind racing as I processed what the nurse had said. Rowan was awake. He had survived the surgery, and now I was about to face him for the first time since everything had changed between us. A part of me was terrified of what I might find when I entered his room. Would he remember the years of hate, of pain, and betrayal between us? Would he remember his cheating? His disregard of me? Or would he forget all of it, starting with a blank slate?I gulped, taking in a deep breath. I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. Rowan lay in the hospital bed, pale but alive, his eyes bright and alert as they met mine. He was smiling at me—a genuine smile, soft and unfamiliar on his usually hardened face."Hello," he greeted, his voice raspy but warm.I felt the breath hitch in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t speak. That smile—it was like a punch to the gut. The Rowan I remembered didn’t smile at me like that. Not in year
Gigi face fell as she stepped back, “What…what do you mean?”I tried to keep my face indifferent as I saw the hurt that passed through her face. It was hard to, especially knowing the man in there used to be the man I loved. “It means, he might forget you and every situation he was in.”“No…no…that's not…I don't believe…it can't be.”I wondered if she was going into shock, “Unless,” she shrieked, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. “You did this! This is your fault!”I blinked, the words hitting me like a slap in the face. “Gigi, calm down. I did everything I could to save him. He’s stable now, but—”“Stable?” she cut me off, her hands trembling as she pointed an accusing finger at me. “You call this stable? He could die! Or worse, you said he might have amnesia! How could you let this happen? You were supposed to be a surgeon, a doctor, and you couldn’t even do your job properly!”I stood there, trying to maintain my composure. I knew this wasn’t about me. Gigi was scare
Six years Later I adjusted the drip for Mrs. Isolde, who let out a soft cough. She was a frail but sharp woman in her eighties, her onyx eyes still bright as she stared at me. Her crowfoot clenching together with her warm smile. I had grown fond of her over the past few months that I started working as her personal doctor. "There you go, Mrs. Isolde," I said, smoothing the blanket over her legs on the wheelchair. "Thank you, dear," she replied, her voice raspy but affectionate. "You're such a blessing to have around." A smile spread across my face. Balancing my career as a surgeon and raising my twins, Larry and Sally, was no small feat, but moments like this made it all worthwhile. "It's my pleasure. You remind me of my own grandmother." Mrs. Isolde chuckled softly. "You're too kind, Isolde. Always so kind." As I tidied up her bedside table, the television in the corner of the room caught my attention. A news anchor's voice filled the room, announcing the day's headlines. "..