NATHAN'S POVThe weight of the lawsuit Cecilia filed against me still pressed heavily on my chest, but for Hope’s sake—my daughter—I tried to keep things civil. The last thing I wanted was a legal battle that would leave emotional scars on her. That’s the only reason I hadn’t retaliated, hadn’t let my anger control me. I told Isla everything, and as expected, she wasn’t just shocked—she was furious. But instead of reacting rashly, she promised to handle it. She said she would talk to Cecilia woman to woman and try to get to the bottom of it.That afternoon, Cecilia left the apartment with Hope. She said she was meeting Isla. I stayed back, uncertain of what to expect. Hours passed like days. My chest tightened each time I heard footsteps in the hallway, but none of them were hers. When the door finally creaked open, I jumped up from the couch.Cecilia stepped in, carrying Hope in one arm, her purse in the other. Her eyes were red and puffy, like she’d been crying all the way home."Ce
ISLA'S POVI held the printed copy of the lawsuit in my trembling hands, reading and rereading every word Cecilia had written against me. She accused me of harassment, of threatening her and her daughter, and requested a restraining order. My heart pounded in disbelief as I sat frozen on my couch. This woman, who once appeared fragile and understanding, had turned into something else entirely—someone I couldn’t even recognize.At first, I wanted to call her, to ask why she was doing this. Why she was being so cruel. Why she would lie so boldly, twisting facts and pushing a narrative that could ruin not just my relationship with Nathan but my reputation as well. But as I reached for my phone, my lawyer’s words echoed in my mind: “Don’t contact her. It would be a legal mistake now that she’s filed for a restraining order.” I sat back down, letting out a deep sigh as the weight of everything pressed against my chest.It was now obvious to me—Cecilia wasn’t here for peace or healing. She
ISLA'S POVIt had been weighing on my chest for weeks, and I knew I couldn't carry it anymore. The mysterious messages, the old photos of my mom with another man, the ominous tone of every text—they were all starting to feel like poison leaking into every part of my life. I needed answers. Real answers. And there was only one person who could give them to me.So, I took a taxi to the suburbs, to the quiet part of town where my mom lived. The weather matched my mood—gray and brooding, as though the sky understood the storm inside me.She looked surprised to see me. "Isla, sweetheart, what a surprise. Is everything alright?"I forced a smile. "Can we talk, Mom? It's important."She led me to the living room, offering me tea like she always did. I declined. There was no point in small talk."I've been getting messages," I started, my voice steady but cold. "Pictures of you. With another man. Before Dad died."Her eyes widened, then quickly narrowed. "What kind of sick person would send y
ISLA'S POVAfter Nathan told me everything Cecilia had done, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The weight of the conversation hung on my chest like a stone. I kept replaying the details in my mind, trying to make sense of it all. Why would Cecilia take things that far? Why would she twist the truth and paint Nathan as a deadbeat father?It didn’t make sense. Cecilia had always come across as quiet, polite, and even a little reserved. She seemed like the kind of person who would choose understanding over drama. But now, I wasn’t so sure. Maybe she had been a green snake under green grass all along—someone who waited until the right moment to strike. Or maybe, just maybe, she thought that sharing a child with Nathan automatically made them some kind of family. Only a deranged person would assume something like that without clear communication.Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to the story. People don’t just turn evil overnight. They hurt, they panic, they react. I wa
Nathan’s POVI sat there, watching Isla’s face as she absorbed what I had just told her. I had promised her that I was going to handle the situation with Cecilia, that I’d spoken to her and set boundaries. The last thing I wanted was for Isla to feel uncomfortable in her own relationship with me. And I thought I had done the right thing—spoken to Cecilia, told her it was time to leave.But now, as I watched Isla’s expression shift, I realized I might have underestimated how deep the tension ran.“I’ve already handled it, Isla,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, steady. “I told Cecilia she needed to leave. We talked about it, and she agreed. She just needs some time to find a place of her own. I’m doing everything I can to make sure she’s taken care of, but she has to move out.”Isla’s brow furrowed, and I could see the hesitation in her eyes. I could feel the weight of her doubt. “So... she’s just staying here until she finds somewhere else to live?” she asked, her voice laced wit
NATHAN'S POVI sat in the living room long after I returned from Isla house. The silence in the house was loud, filled with all the things she said and everything I hadn't been able to. Her words kept echoing in my head: "I'm tired, Nathan. I'm tired of feeling like a stranger in your life." That hurt more than anything. I never wanted her to feel like she didn’t matter, like she wasn’t seen. But the truth is, things had gotten messy, and I didn’t realize how deep the cracks had become until she said it to my face.Isla had always been the calm in my chaos. The one person who never judged me even when she had every reason to. She stood by me even when Cecilia showed up out of the blue with Hope. And now? She was the one who felt left out, pushed aside.I stared at the phone in my hand. I wanted to call her again, but I knew it would be pointless unless I had something real to say. She deserved more than empty words. She deserved action.Cecilia had been staying longer than expected. W
ISLA'S POV Lately, I could feel the space growing between Nathan and me. It wasn't just in my head. We used to talk every day, sometimes all day. We used to hang out at his restaurant, laugh over silly jokes, and sneak moments of peace in our chaotic world. But now? Now it felt like I was watching our bond quietly fade like fog in the morning sun.It wasn’t anything big at first—just small things. Shorter phone calls. Missed dinners. Delayed replies to texts. Excuses that didn't sound like the Nathan I knew. I had started to believe I was overthinking everything, but Judith's words kept echoing in my mind: "If something is bothering you, talk to him. Don’t let it fester."I wanted to. I truly did. But somehow, I couldn't find the right moment. It never felt like the right time. Maybe part of me was afraid of the answer I'd get. Afraid of what it might mean if I voiced my fears and they turned out to be true.Then, in the middle of my confusion, came a message that tilted my entire wo
ISLA'S POVIt had been weeks since the DNA test confirmed that Hope was Nathan's daughter. Weeks since we all agreed on a plan that, at the time, seemed fair and logical. Nathan would step up as a father, support Cecilia with the responsibilities of raising Hope, and we would all somehow find balance in the middle of the chaos.But now, I was beginning to wonder if that plan was only words. Because balance was the one thing that had completely disappeared from my life.Cecilia was still here.I told myself not to question it. I had no right. I wasn’t Nathan’s wife. I wasn’t even living with him. But the longer she stayed, the harder it became to push away the thoughts swirling in my head. Every time I visited Nathan’s house, I saw signs that she was making herself comfortable. A new throw blanket on the couch. Her coffee mug in the sink. Her coat hanging on the same rack I used to use when I spent nights there.At first, I assumed she was simply adjusting. Maybe it was just temporary,
ISLA'S POVI couldn’t sleep again. The silence of my room was suffocating, so I found myself walking through the quiet streets of New York at dawn, coffee in hand, wondering how my life had shifted so drastically in just a matter of weeks. The engagement, Hope, Cecilia, Nathan’s past—it all swirled around my head like smoke I couldn’t escape.By mid-morning, I found myself at a small café tucked away in the East Village. I had texted Cecilia earlier, asking to meet. Not because I didn’t trust her—but because I needed to know her story, on my own terms, away from Nathan and emotional outbursts.She arrived quietly, her hair in a loose bun and shadows under her eyes that told me she hadn’t slept much either. Hope was with a babysitter, she explained."Why did you really come back, Cecilia?" I asked gently.She sighed. "I came because I was tired of being invisible. Hope deserves more than me scraping by, and Nathan deserves to know her. I didn’t come here to take him from you."I studie