28. How I hate him!

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• Traded For His First Love    203. A Promise of Tomorrow

  Reese POVThe night wrapped around us like a soft blanket, the bedroom bathed in the gentle glow of a single lamp, its light tracing the familiar lines of Elliot’s face as we lay tangled in each other’s arms. His heartbeat thrummed steady against my cheek, a quiet rhythm that grounded me after months of chaos. I pressed closer, breathing in his warmth, the faint cedar of his cologne, and let myself sink into the simple, profound joy of loving him and being loved. Our children, Sammy and Avie, slept down the hall, their laughter still echoing in my heart from bedtime stories. Our friends—Alice, Connor, Ernest, Vivian, Josh—had filled our home with life, their departure looming but their bond eternal. In this moment, the Goodwin mansion’s ghosts—Jennifer’s malice, Florence’s sacrifice, Samuel’s shadow—felt distant, overshadowed by the love that had carried us through. I held Elliot tighter, my heart whispering gratitude for this family, this life, we’d fought so hard to keep.Morning

• Traded For His First Love    202. Shadows and New Horizons

  Reese POVThe crackle of the fireplace filled the living room with a cozy warmth, its golden light dancing across the faces of my closest friends, their laughter a fragile tether to joy after months of pain. Alice Davies, her short black hair gleaming, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief, was mid-story about a Chicago gallery fiasco, while Connor, Ernest, Vivian, and Josh traded playful barbs. Elliot’s arm draped over my shoulders, his soft chuckle a quiet anchor, reminding me of the family we’d fought to keep whole. The air was rich with the scent of wine and the ease of old bonds, a fleeting reprieve from the scars left by Jennifer’s conviction and Florence’s death, but the Goodwin mansion’s walls seemed to whisper memories I couldn’t escape.Alice caught my gaze, her smile softening, and leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Reese, can we talk? Just us, for a minute?”I nodded, intrigued, and stood, gesturing toward the stairs. “Sure, let’s go.” As we moved, Josh gri

• Traded For His First Love    201. A Quiet Healing

  Reese POVThe soft glow of the bedside lamp cast gentle shadows across Avie’s room, her small form curled beneath a quilt, her stuffed bear tucked under her chin. The familiar rhythm of bedtime—tucking in my children, smoothing their blankets—felt like a fragile return to normalcy, a balm after the storm of Jennifer’s condemnation. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to Avie’s forehead, her steady breaths a quiet promise of peace. Sammy’s bed was next, his light brown hair peeking above the covers, his green eyes still open, heavy with thoughts no nine-year-old should carry. The weight of Florence’s death, Jennifer’s cruelty, and the chaos that had shaken our family lingered in his gaze, but tonight, I hoped to ease that burden, if only for a moment.I adjusted Sammy’s blanket, my fingers brushing his cheek. “Time to sleep, sweetheart,” I whispered, offering a smile.He shifted, his voice small but searching. “Mom… is Dad gonna be okay? I mean, with Grandma gone?”My heart ached, his wor

• Traded For His First Love    200. Justice Served

  Reese POVThe courtroom air was thick with the hum of anticipation, a sterile scent of polished wood and old paper underscoring the gravity of the moment. I sat in the front row, my hand clasped tightly in Elliot’s, his steady presence a quiet anchor as we faced the woman who had nearly destroyed our family.Jennifer Durham stood in the dock, her once-glamorous blonde hair dulled and limp under the harsh fluorescent lights, her face bare of makeup, the orange prison jumpsuit stripping away her veneer of charm. The sight of her—so diminished, so exposed—was a bitter kind of triumph.Her inner ugliness, the malice that had driven her to attack Florence, invade our home, and threaten Sammy and Avie, now seemed to seep through her skin, plain for all to see. Today, justice would finally claim her, and the weight of that truth settled over me like a long-delayed exhale.Elliot’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, his green eyes fixed on the judge’s bench, but I felt the tension in his grip. On

• Traded For His First Love    199. A Final Farewell

  Reese POVThe scent of rain-soaked earth clung to the air, mingling with the sweet perfume of lilies as we stood under a gray London sky. The cemetery stretched before us, a quiet expanse of ancient oaks and weathered stones, where Florence Goodwin, the fierce matriarch who had loved and protected us until her final breath, would be laid to rest. My hand rested in Elliot’s, his fingers cold but steady, a silent tether to the grief we shared. Florence’s sacrifice—her warning about Jennifer’s deadly intent—had saved us, but it cost her life, and the weight of that truth pressed heavy on my heart as we gathered to say goodbye.The mahogany casket gleamed softly, draped in white lilies, their petals stark against the somber crowd. Friends from Chicago and New York had come to honor her, their presence a balm to our loss. Alice Davies, elegant in black, stood beside her husband Connor, their hands clasped tightly. Josh Carter, his face etched with quiet respect, lingered near Ernest and

• Traded For His First Love    198. A Bitter End

  Elliot POVThe roar of the engine filled my ears, a relentless pulse matching the fear coursing through me as I sped through London’s pre-dawn streets. The hospital’s sterile lights faded in the rearview mirror, Mom’s rasping warning—Jennifer pushed me… she’ll kill Reese—a fire in my chest. My hands gripped the wheel, knuckles white, as I wove through the sparse traffic, the city’s sodium-lit blur a backdrop to my singular focus: Reese, Sammy, and Avie, alone in the Goodwin mansion with a woman driven mad by vengeance. I’d called the police from the hospital lot, my voice clipped as I relayed Mom’s accusation and Jennifer’s threat. They’d promised to swarm the estate, but every second stretched taut, the dread for my family a weight I could barely carry.The city gave way to the winding roads near our home, the mansion’s silhouette a dark promise in the distance. My phone buzzed on the passenger seat, but I ignored it, eyes locked on the road. Then, a flash of headlights—a black car