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Chapter 14: A Day To Thank Brownies
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2024-12-03 01:18:44
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His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 31: ANDY
ANDY“Looks like you have a lot of explaining to do, son,” Dad said with amusement.I sighed and massaged the bridge of my nose, ignoring his comment. “Ooh, reconciliation arc!” Isla gasped, clasping her hands together.I shot her my deadliest glare. She only grinned wider.“Come on,” I muttered to Callie, ignoring both of them and grabbing her wrist gently before she could bolt.Her eyes darted to my hand, but she didn’t pull away, and I took that as my one small mercy.We stepped out into the garden. It was just after noon, so it was warmer than usual. My mom’s flowers were in full bloom—peonies, roses, foxgloves. Callie looked like she belonged here.She stood a few steps away, brushing her fingertips against the petals of a rose, her hair catching the sunlight. And all I could think was that she looked… beautiful. Too beautiful for me to mess this up again.I took a breath. “So, was it right? What I heard in there?”Her brows pulled together. “Which part?”“When did I… not come?”
His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 30: CALLIE
CALLIE I was in the same room as Julia Johnson.Alone.I didn’t know what to do with my hands. My brain wasn’t functioning. My feet were planted, but my heart was doing laps. My mouth may or may not have been hanging open. “I’m sorry for talking to you like this,” she said gently, reaching for my hand.And just like that, I forgot how to breathe.Her fingers wrapped around mine. I stared at her, and for a second, all I could think was, This is the hand that painted dozens of iconic art pieces in the past years. Oh my god.“I didn’t just want you to stay for dessert,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you.”I pursed my lips and turned serious. “I want to tell you a little bit about Andy,” she said.My heart jumped. “Okay.”She leaned back in her chair, still holding my hand, her thumb tracing idle circles on my knuckles.“He didn’t have the greatest childhood,” she began. “Evan and I… we weren’t in a good place for a long time. And children notice these things, Callie.” I pursed my li
His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 29: ANDY
ANDYBeing home on a school day was unusual. It was so unusual, in fact, that both my parents kept giving me double-takes over their mugs of coffee. Isla, on the other hand, saw it as a golden opportunity to wreak havoc.“I didn’t go to school today,” she declared once I woke up at noon. “What do you mean, you didn’t go to school?” I asked, leaning over the marble kitchen island.“We need to bond,” she said, eyes sparkling with mock sincerity. “I feel neglected.”I raised a brow. “You missed me, huh?”“Oh, hell no,” she said immediately, cringing. “I just want to eavesdrop on your drama with that girl. You came home at dawn, and you wouldn’t do that just for nothing.” I ignored that part and reached for my coffee.Our conversation was cut short when I received a textI didn’t expect it to be her.“I’m outside your house.”I stood up immediately, so fast I almost knocked my chair over.Isla’s eyes brightened. “Who is it?”I didn’t answer. I was already on my way out.“Andy!” my mom
His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 28: CALLIE
CALLIEI woke up and Andy wasn’t there anymore.For a second, I thought I was dreaming—that the past few days were just figments of my exhausted brain. That Andy hadn’t actually driven us all the way here. That he hadn’t held Millie like she was a feather in his arms. That he hadn’t been here, in my house, sitting at our chipped dining table and smiling like he wasn’t totally out of place.But his absence now felt like confirmation.He finally realized it—our house wasn’t livable.I sat up on the couch, pulling the thin blanket over my legs for a second longer. It was still early. The sun hadn’t even warmed the floors yet. A breeze came in from the window we cracked open, and the sound of the city waking up buzzed in the air.Millie’s room was quiet when I peeked in. She was curled up on her side, one hand still loosely clutching the stuffed toy she refused to let go of. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her cheeks pink from a good night’s sleep. Did Andy put her to bed?My chest cle
His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 27: ANDY
ANDYTheir house was small, but it was warmer than any I’d ever been in. The living room lights cast a slightly golden hue over everything, and the walls were lined with old photos—faded yet clearly cherished. Colordul chairs surrounded a couch draped with a crocheted blanket, and the air was filled with the inviting scent of soy sauce, garlic, and something sweet wafting in from the kitchen.It was humble. It was beautiful. It was just like Callie.I liked it here.Dinner was simple—stir-fried vegetables, tender pork belly, and scrambled eggs with tomatoes—but it was the best meal I’d had in a long time. Maybe it was due to everything that had happened today. Maybe it was because Callie kept pretending not to care that I was there but still made sure I had the biggest portion of meat.After she saw me practically licking my plate clean, she muttered, “After this, you should go home.”“No,” I said, my mouth still half-full. “I’ll stay.”“There’s school tomorrow,” she reminded me, eyei
His Secret Heir, His Deepest Regret Chapter 26: CALLIE
CALLIE Emilio has always loved soccer. The sport was expensive, though—the cleats, the uniforms, the club fees, the travel—but my mom and I always found a way. She worked extra hours, skipped things we needed, and made it happen because he loved it. And he was good at it. He lit up when he played. That’s why hearing he passed out during practice took the air right out of me. I couldn’t breathe. My hands were shaking so badly that I could barely grab onto anything. I was desperate, so I even agreed to Andy’s proposition to drive me back. I knew it was the fastest way to get to my brother, and I certainly didn’t want to regret getting there later because my stupid feelings got in the way. Emilio was far more important. I sat there, numb in the passenger seat, staring out the window, pretending I wasn’t panicking. I was grateful, really. And I couldn’t stop wondering—does he really like me? Does he care enough to do this? I didn’t want to hope. Hope was dangerous. Hope taste
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