Chapter 118

Drew’s POV

I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. So that morning when I woke up I knew the only place I needed to be was Cold Spring, Lila's hometown. My private investigator had sent all the details I needed and gave me the address of the house where she stayed and I just followed the directions from the city.

The drive was long, longer than I thought it would feel. The further I got from the city, the more restless I became. Towering buildings gave way to winding roads and sleepy towns, until finally the sign appeared: Welcome to Cold Spring.

It was beautiful in a way that made me ache; peaceful and slow, the kind of place untouched by the chaos that had swallowed us whole. Maybe that was why she came here.

The address led me down a quiet street lined with modest houses, each with its own touch of age and character. My chest tightened as I pulled up to the one from the photograph. It matched perfectly; the peeling paint, the front porch, even the faint glow from the window.

My hands gripped the steering wheel. For a long moment, I could not move. I wasn’t ready for this, for her. But the thought of driving away without seeing her made me feel like I was suffocating.

So I forced myself out of the car, pulling up the image on my phone once more, just to be sure. Same house and same porch making sure I wasn't making any mistakes.

My feet felt heavier with each step up the walkway. When I finally knocked, my heart thudded so hard it echoed in my ears.

The door opened, and a woman stood there.

For a moment, I froze. Because she looked like Lila. Older, yes, her hair touched with gray, but the resemblance was striking enough to make my throat close.

“Hello?” she asked cautiously, her eyes narrowing slightly.

I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to steady. “Good day ma I am Drew. Drew Sinclair. I… I am looking for Lila.”

Her expression shifted instantly, tightening like a door slamming shut.

Before I could say anything more, a man appeared behind her. His steps were heavy, his presence commanding in a way that made me instinctively straighten.

“Who is it?” he asked gruffly.

“He says he is Drew Sinclair,” the woman replied, her voice clipped. “Lila’s boss.”

The man’s face darkened immediately, fury flashing across his features. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I just…I need to see her,” I said quickly, raising my hands slightly as though that would calm him. “Please, I just need to talk to her.”

“You have no business seeing my daughter,” he snapped, his voice like thunder. “You have done enough damage already. Get out.”

Each word hit me like a blow.

Before I could respond, the woman, Lila’s mother, I realized laid a gentle but firm hand on his arm. “Let her decide,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving mine. “If she does not want to speak to him, we will make him leave.”

The man growled low in his throat, clearly unhappy, but he did not argue with her. Instead, he glared at me with the kind of protective rage that made me suddenly understand exactly how much they had seen her suffer.

My stomach sank. They invited me inside and offered me a seat, Lila was not around so I had to wait for her to return and the little time I spent waiting felt like the longest

And then after a while she appeared.

As soon as she stepped into the doorway, her eyes locked on mine. The shock on her face was sharp and unmistakable. My chest tightened painfully. God, she was beautiful, even now, even with suspicion shadowing her expression.

I had not realized how much I had missed her until this very moment.

I opened my mouth, my throat dry. “Hi, Lila.”

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came. She just stood there, staring at me like she couldn’t believe I was real.

The silence was unbearable.

And then, out of nowhere, a small voice cut in; “Grandma, who’s that?”

I blinked and was startled.

There, at Lila’s side, stood a boy. Big eyes, messy hair, his hand curled around a toy car. He looked up at her mother with innocent curiosity.

My heart clenched. Who was he?

But before I could even process it, her mother’s eyes darted urgently toward the man standing nearby. Then she turned that same look on another figure.

It was the first time I noticed him standing there too.

He moved instantly, crouching beside the boy. “Hey, buddy. Let’s get going, okay?”

The boy frowned. “But we just came to see Grandma.”

The words twisted something deep inside me and I did not understand why.

Then Lila bent down, smiling faintly. “It is okay, sweetheart. I will see you again soon.”

The boy hugged her tightly, and I felt jealousy surge through me like fire. She held him close, whispered something soft, and when he pulled away, the man who I have now figured out to be the little boy's father gave her a look I could not decipher.

Then he hugged her too. Just briefly.

But it was enough. Enough to make my blood boil.

My jaw tightened. My fists curled. Every part of me screamed at the sight of him touching her. But I stood frozen and powerless. Because I had no right.

None at all.

Finally he turned to her and said, “We will talk later.” Then he nodded to her parents and left with his son.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes fixed on the door long after it closed.

When I looked back at Lila, her gaze was sharp, guarded. “What are you doing here?”

The words stung, but I forced myself to hold her eyes. “Please, Lila. I just want to talk.”

I barely got the words out before her father exploded.

“There is nothing to talk about!” His chair scraped violently as he stood, his fury aimed directly at me. “Not after what you did to her and certainly not after the way you treated her.”

I did not fight back, I didn’t have the strength. The truth was, he was right.

So I just stood there, staring at the floor, my shoulders tight, my hands shaking. I felt smaller than I ever had in my life.

Her mother’s voice broke through the chaos. “Enough,” she said, steady and calm.

Her father turned to her, his anger barely restrained. “You want to let him…”

“I want to let Lila decide,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “This is her choice.”

Her father muttered something but finally sat down, fuming.

Then her mother looked at me again, her gaze sharp but not unkind. “If she needs us, all she has to do is call.”

And with that, she led him away, leaving me standing in the middle of the living room.

Just me. And Lila.

I lifted my eyes to hers.

For the first time in my life, I felt something I had never allowed myself to feel in a long while.

Fear.

Not of her father, not of her rejection but of losing her completely.