Mia's POVThe world spun as I lay at the bottom of the stairs, pain radiating through my body in merciless waves. Taylor's performance began with a single, perfectly timed tear."Kyle!" Taylor's voice cracked with carefully crafted desperation. "You're here!" Her hands trembled as she wrapped her arms around herself, a picture of vulnerability.Kyle's eyes darted between us, taking in the scene—me on the floor, Taylor's apparent distress. The muscle in his jaw ticked, a sure sign of his rising anger.Taylor's lower lip quivered. "I—I just wanted to talk to her." Her voice hitched perfectly. "After everything that's happened, I thought maybe... maybe we could fix things. We're family, after all." She pressed a manicured hand to her mouth, suppressing a sob. "But she was so angry, Kyle. ""No," I gasped, "She's lying—""I told her about us," Taylor continued. "About how we've been trying to resist our feelings, trying to do the right thing. I thought if she understood... if she knew how
Mia's POVIn the haze between consciousness and darkness, memories floated like scattered photographs, each one more painful than the last. The sedatives coursing through my veins turned my mind into a kaleidoscope of moments I'd tried so hard to forget."Mr. Branson will see you now."The first time I saw Kyle in his office, tall and imposing behind that mahogany desk. I'd straightened my simple black dress, trying to look professional despite my racing heart. He hadn't recognized me from high school, of course. To him, I was just another candidate for the secretary position."Your references are impressive, Miss Williams."His voice had been cold even then, clinical. I should have known. Should have seen the signs.The scene shifted, blurred, reformed."The board needs me married." Kyle's voice echoed through my drug-induced dreams. "Someone quiet. Someone who won't cause problems." The contract had sat between us on his desk, stark black text on white paper. A business arrangement,
Mia's POVThe hospital room is too quiet. Too white. Too empty.Just like me now.The morning light hurts my eyes. I keep my hand on my stomach. There's nothing there anymore. No movement. No life. Just emptiness.When the door opens, I know it's Kyle. I always know. Even now, my heart still responds to his presence. I hate that it does."You should be resting," he says. His footsteps are measured, controlled. Everything about Kyle is always controlled.I turn my head slowly. He looks perfect. Not a hair out of place. Like nothing has happened. Like our babies aren't gone."How's Taylor?" I ask. I can't help it. I need to know if he spent the night with her while I was losing our children.His jaw tightens. "She's fine. Some bruising."Of course she is. Taylor always lands on her feet. While I lose everything."The doctors say you need rest," he continues, checking his phone. Always checking his phone. "I've arranged for the best specialists—""I want a divorce."The words hang in the
Kyle's POVThe scotch burns a path down my throat. Glass after glass. The bottle's nearly empty now, but the anger still burns hotter than the alcohol.Divorce.The word echoes in my mind, mocking my control. How dare she? After everything I've given her—the lifestyle, the security, the position—she dares to ask for a divorce?My office is too quiet. Too dark. The city lights spread out below my penthouse window, a sea of possibilities I've always controlled. Until now.I pour another glass. My hand is steady, even if my thoughts aren't."Is everything a game to you, Mia?" The words taste bitter in the empty room. "Didn't you say you loved me?"The memory of her in that hospital bed flashes unbidden. Pale. Broken. Different from the Mia I know. The Mia who always smiled, no matter how cold I was. The Mia who looked at me like I was worth something more than my bank account.My phone buzzes. Taylor. Again.I stare at her name on the screen until it goes dark. Strange. There was a time
Mia's POVMy palm stung from the force of the slap, but the pain was nothing compared to the turmoil in my chest. Kyle's kiss still burned on my lips, a ghost of passion that meant nothing. That had always meant nothing. The taste of expensive scotch lingered on my tongue, bitter like the memories we'd shared."Don't touch me again." My voice came out steadier than I felt, ice coating each word. Inside, my traitorous heart still raced from his proximity, from the familiar scent of his cologne, from the way his body had pressed against mine. Old habits die hard, it seems. "I'm not your toy anymore, Kyle."His fingers touched his reddened cheek, storm clouds gathering in those grey eyes I'd once found so captivating. The slight tick in his jaw betrayed his anger . I knew all his tells by now, every minute expression that revealed the emotions he tried so hard to hide."You're being ridiculous," he growled, taking a step toward me. "This tantrum needs to stop."I backed away, my legs hit
Mia's POV"I brought your favorite flowers today, Mom." My voice echoed in the sterile hospital room as I arranged fresh lilies in the vase. "The florist said they just got them in this morning. Remember how you used to grow them in our garden? Before..."I trailed off, settling into the chair beside her bed. The monitors beeped steadily, their rhythm a poor substitute for her voice."The doctors say you can hear me," I continued, taking her hand. "I hope that's true because I need to tell you something. I need to tell you how sorry I am."My thumb traced patterns on her palm, the way she used to do when I was little. "I failed you, Mom. Everything you warned me about, everything you tried to protect me from – I walked right into it anyway.""I know I have told you a lot of times. Mom, you're the only one I can talk to about this. I married him, Mom. I married a man who doesn't love me. Just like you and Dad." My voice cracked. "I thought I could change him. Isn't that ridiculous? I w
Mia's POVMy hands trembled as I reached for my bag, fingers brushing against the manila envelope inside. The divorce papers felt heavy, weighted with more than just legal terms and conditions. They represented freedom – or at least, they should have."I've made my decision," I said quietly, pulling out the envelope. The hospital room seemed to shrink around us, the air growing thick with tension.Kyle's eyes fixed on the envelope, his jaw tightening. "What is that?""You know what it is." I held the papers out, my voice steadier than I felt. "I've already signed them."His laugh was harsh, echoing off the sterile walls. "You can't be serious.""I've never been more serious." I stepped closer, forcing him to take the envelope. "It's over, Kyle. Whatever this was between us – the contract, the pretense, all of it. It's done."Kyle's fingers closed around the envelope, but instead of opening it, he moved to the window. The setting sun cast his profile in sharp relief, highlighting the t
Mia's POVThe surgery seemed endless. Each tick of the hospital clock echoed through my bones, marking hours that felt like centuries. I'd been here since morning, pacing the sterile hallways, my prayers growing more desperate with each passing hour."Please," I whispered, my fingers wrapped tight around the small cross pendant Mom had given me years ago. "I'll do anything. Just let her live."The fluorescent lights cast everything in a harsh, unforgiving glare. Or maybe that was just my exhaustion. I couldn't remember the last time I'd truly slept. Not since losing the babies. Not since everything fell apart."Mrs. Branson?"The doctor's voice made my heart stop. I searched his face for any hint of hope, but his expression remained carefully neutral."How is she?" The words barely made it past my dry throat."The surgery is complete," he began, his tone measured. "We've managed to stabilize your mother's condition... temporarily."That last word hit like a physical blow."Her current
**Mia's POV**My laptop screen glowed softly in the fading afternoon light as I opened the group chat. Three faces appeared in their respective windows – Scarlett's fiery red hair unmistakable even in the small frame, Jeo's familiar warm smile, and my own tired reflection staring back at me."There she is!" Scarlett's voice crackled through my speakers. "Our brilliant architect finally graces us with her presence.""Sorry I'm late," I said, adjusting my screen. "I was reviewing the latest site surveys.""Speaking of which," Jeo held up a stack of papers, "I have some thoughts about the therapeutic garden layouts. The integration with existing vegetation is inspired, Mia, but have you considered adding a butterfly garden? The kids would love it.""That's... actually brilliant." I reached for my sketchpad, already visualizing the possibilities. "We could create a dedicated space near the sensory garden, using native plants to attract local species.""And," Scarlett chimed in, "I've been
**Mia's POV**The hospital corridors had become familiar territory over the past four days. Every morning, I'd arrive just as the sun began to paint the city skyline in shades of gold and pink. The nurses on the early shift knew me by name now, greeting me with gentle smiles as I made my way to Mom's room.Today was no different. Emma, the head nurse, looked up from her station with a warm smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Branson. Your mother had a peaceful night.""Any changes?" I asked, the question as automatic as breathing by now."All her indicators are holding steady." Emma's smile widened slightly. "Dr. Pierce just went in to check on her, actually."I found Nate standing by Mom's bed, studying her charts with intense concentration. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his usually immaculate appearance showed subtle signs of wear - his sleeves rolled up carelessly, his collar slightly askew."Nate?" He looked up, his professional mask softening into a genuine smile. "Mia. I was hopin
Mia's POVConsciousness returned slowly, like swimming up through deep water. The first thing I noticed was the steady beeping of monitors—not my own, I realized, but from the bed next to mine."What happened?" I asked, my voice rough from sleep.A nurse appeared at my side, adjusting something on the monitor. "You fainted, dear. The stress and exhaustion finally caught up with you."I pushed myself up carefully, my head spinning slightly. "How long was I out?""Just a couple of hours." She helped arrange my pillows. "Dr. Pierce said it was pure exhaustion. When was the last time you ate anything?"I tried to remember but couldn't. The nurse clicked her tongue disapprovingly."That's what I thought. You need to rest and eat something substantial." She checked my vitals with efficient movements. "Your mother's doing very well, by the way. The surgery was completely successful."At the mention of Mom, I turned to study her in the next bed. She lay peaceful in the post-surgical quiet, he
Mia's POVThe hospital corridor seemed to stretch endlessly, its polished floors reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. I watched as they wheeled Mom through the double doors marked "Authorized Personnel Only," her small form dwarfed by the hospital bed. My fingers pressed against the cold glass of the observation window until she disappeared from view."Mrs. Branson?" A gentle touch on my arm made me turn. The nurse—her name tag read "Emma"—smiled warmly. "Why don't we get you settled in the waiting area? It's going to be a long surgery."I let her guide me to a private waiting room, noticing absently that it was far more luxurious than the standard hospital spaces. Plush chairs, soft lighting."Can I get you anything?" Emma asked. "Some hot chocolate perhaps? Or juice?""No, thank you." My voice sounded distant, even to my own ears.She frowned slightly. "You should try to eat something. Dr. Pierce mentioned you might skip breakfast. Let me at least bring you some tea."Before I c
**Mia's POV**The elevator doors opened to reveal a corridor that looked nothing like the sterile hospital hallways below. Rich mahogany paneling lined the walls, and original artwork hung in carefully curated groupings. My heels sank into plush carpeting as I made my way to Nate's office, my portfolio clutched like a shield against my chest.I paused before the heavy double doors, taking a steadying breath. Through the frosted glass, I could see movement - a tall figure pacing, gesturing as he spoke on the phone.Before I could knock, the door swung open. Nate stood there, phone still pressed to his ear, but his face lit up when he saw me. He gestured me in, mouthing "Just a moment" as he wrapped up his call."No, tell them Thursday won't work," he said, his voice carrying that easy authority I was beginning to recognize. "The equipment needs to be calibrated by someone who actually knows what they're doing, not just the lowest bidder." He paused, listening. "Exactly. Have Dr. Chen h
**Mia's POV**The morning sun had barely risen when I settled at my desk, spreading out the preliminary sketches for the children's center. Steam rose from my coffee cup, curling in the early light as I reviewed my notes from yesterday.My phone rang, Scarlett's name flashing across the screen."That bastard actually agreed to the divorce?" Scarlett's voice was surprisingly calm, though I could hear the underlying tension."After my mother's surgery is complete," I said, reaching for my coffee. "He didn't even argue. Just said he'd have the papers drawn up.""Just like that? No conditions? No threats about the contract?""Nothing." I moved a sketch aside, focusing on the garden layout. "He just... agreed.""Well, that's... unexpected." A pause, then I heard rustling papers on her end. "Listen, I'm looking at my schedule. I can get you in to see Marcus - you remember my lawyer friend? - this afternoon.""Scarlett—""No, hear me out. He specializes in high-profile divorces. Knows exactl
**Mia's POV**Time seemed to slow in that dimly lit kitchen as Kyle's weight pressed against me, the sharp scent of scotch mingling with his familiar cologne. His head rested heavy on my shoulder, dark hair tickling my neck as his breathing steadied."Kyle," I said softly, trying to shift his weight. "We need to get you upstairs."He stirred, lifting his head to look at me with unfocused eyes. In the soft glow of the kitchen lights, his usual sharp features had softened, making him look younger, almost vulnerable."Your eyes," he murmured, reaching up to trace my cheekbone with unsteady fingers. "So green. Like emeralds in sunlight." A crooked smile crossed his face. "Always loved your eyes."My heart clenched painfully. "Stop it." I caught his hand, pulling it away from my face. "You're drunk.""Mmm, maybe." He chuckled, the sound so unlike his usual controlled demeanor that it made my chest ache. "But I still know pretty eyes when I see them.""Kyle, please—""Stay." His fingers cur
**Mia's POV** The soft glow of my laptop screen illuminated the study as I immersed myself in the children's center project details Nate had sent. Five acres of possibility spread across my screen. Nature had already gifted us with mature oak trees standing like ancient guardians around the perimeter, their sprawling canopies offering the perfect foundation for what these children would need most: a sense of shelter without confinement, protection without isolation. The site's southern exposure was perfect, which means we could capture natural light throughout the day, letting sunshine become a healing element in itself. The existing topography practically begged for terraced healing gardens, creating intimate spaces that would feel both private and connected to the larger landscape. My pencil moved across the sketchpad as I explored possibilities for the central courtyard. The notification appeared in the corner of my screen with a soft chime. I almost ignored it, but the familiar
**Kyle's POV**The medical report lay on my desk like a ticking bomb, its crisp pages rustling softly in the air-conditioned silence of my office. Taylor sat across from me, her usual confident posture replaced by something more fragile, more vulnerable. The late afternoon sun caught in her perfectly styled hair, creating a halo effect that reminded me of countless childhood memories."I didn't want to tell you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the report. "I thought I could handle it on my own, like I always have."I leaned forward, studying the medical terminology that jumped out from the pages. Cardiomyopathy. Stress-induced complications. Risk of acute cardiac event. The clinical language painted a stark picture of a condition that had apparently shadowed Taylor for the past twenty years."Why now?" I asked, my voice rougher than intended. "After all this time, why tell me now?"Taylor's lower lip quivered – a tiny gesture