Welcome Back to the Game

Evelyn’s POV

"There's a complication with the jewelry liquidation," the assistant explains over the phone. "Each piece has a unique identification code embedded in the stones. Attempting to sell them without proper authorization could trigger an investigation."

I stare out my bedroom window, watching Sophie play in the garden below, watching Sebastian as he plays with her, tossing a ball back and forth, laughing.

Even after everything, he was still a wonderful father. And that fact made it impossible to hate him.

"What kind of authorization do we need?"

"I have a way," I say calmly. "Use my old code to crack the identification codes on the stones, then split and sell them separately. It won't trigger any investigations."

The assistant paused, then replied quickly, her voice now laced with something close to awe: "Understood, Ms. Hayes. I'll do it right away."

I hang up the phone, my eyes still on Sebastian and Sophie, and I sigh.

I was leaving, but a part of me would always remain here, with him.

An hour later, I sat in an upscale restaurant downtown, the kind of place where business deals are made over expensive wine and whispered conversations.

The assistant has reserved a private dining room where we can discuss the details without interruption. I'm reviewing the authorization documents when a familiar voice makes me look up.

"Surprise!"

Miles Bennett stands in the doorway, looking exactly as I remember him - tall, confident, with the same sharp intelligence in his eyes that made him such a formidable partner years ago.

"Miles?" I rise from my chair, genuinely shocked. "I thought you were in isolation for another week."

"The project wrapped up early," he says, crossing the room to embrace me warmly. "When my assistant told me you were here, I had to see you immediately."

He settles into the chair across from me, his expression growing serious as he studies my face. "Evelyn, what's really going on? Complete identity cancellation isn't something you request on a whim."

I glance at his assistant, who discretely excuses herself to give us privacy.

"My life here is over, Miles. It's time to move on." My voice is steady, but my mind is filled with images of Sebastian, of the life we had, of the love I still have for him.

His brow furrows with concern. "I've always regretted how things ended when you left the organization. If you hadn't retired to play house, you'd be running your own division by now. Your talents were wasted in domestic life."

"I don't regret my choices," I say quietly, though the words feel hollow. "Sophie is the best thing that ever happened to me. And Sebastian..."

I trail off, unable to say his name without my voice cracking, unable to say his name without my voice cracking, unable to admit out loud that he was the reason my world was falling apart. "He was once the best thing too."

"But?"

I take a shaky breath. "But I'm ready to return to work. Does the organization have positions suitable for someone with my background?" I need to busy myself, need to forget, need to stop loving him.

Miles' face lights up with genuine excitement. "Evelyn, we've been hoping you'd come back for years. There's a new division being established, cutting-edge technology development. You'd be perfect to lead it."

For the first time in days, I feel a spark of something that might be hope. But it's a hollow hope, because it doesn't include Sebastian, doesn't include the love I still have for him.

"I'd welcome the opportunity to return," I tell him.

Hours later, when I get home, I find Mrs. Chen, our longtime housekeeper, waiting with an envelope. "Mr. Hawthorne asked me to give this to you," she explains. "It's about Miss Sophie's birthday preparations."

Inside the envelope are detailed sketches for an elaborate cake design - a three-tiered masterpiece decorated with sugar flowers and delicate pink rabbits.

Sebastian's handwriting fills the margins with specific notes about flavors, decorating techniques, and presentation.

"Sorry I can't be there to celebrate with her this year. Work emergency that can't be avoided. Please make sure she knows I love her. I'll make it up to her after this deal closes. - S"

It's his duty as a father to remember Sophie's birthday and plan the details— nothing more, no affection for me involved.

But I trace his handwriting with my finger, the familiar scrawl that I've loved for years, and I smile, a sad, broken smile.

I love his handwriting, I love his voice, I love his face, I love everything about him, even if he doesn't love me back.

I'm studying the cake sketches when the front door chimes, followed by the click of heels on marble floors.

"Evelyn? Are you home?"

Sloane Hawthorne sweeps into the living room carrying an elegant gift box, her designer outfit impeccable as always.

Sebastian's sister has never been subtle about her disapproval of me, but she usually maintains a thin veneer of politeness.

Today, however, something in her expression suggests the gloves are coming off.

"I brought Sophie a little something for her birthday," Sloane says, setting the box on the coffee table. "Though I have to wonder how much longer we'll be celebrating family occasions together."

"What do you mean?" I ask, though I suspect I already know. My hand tightens around the envelope with Sebastian's handwriting, a silent anchor, a reminder of the man I love, even if his sister hates me.

Sloane's smile is sharp as a blade. "Oh, come now, Evelyn. We both know this little charade has run its course. Surely you're not planning to keep playing house indefinitely?"

I look at her with cold, sharp eyes, cutting her off before she can finish: "You think I have no proof of what you did back then? You thought the truth was buried forever, but now I can dig up whatever I want with a snap of my fingers." Sloane's face pales, panic flashing in her eyes: "You're bluffing! If you had proof, you would have shown it long ago!"

I don't care about her lies, her games— all I care about is Sebastian, about the man I love, about the life we could have had.

"Suggest what, exactly?" The voice from the doorway carries a dangerous quiet that makes the air in the room seem to crystallize.

Sebastian stands there in his perfectly tailored business suit, and the sight of him makes my breath catch.