LOGINHayes raced from one room to another with boundless excitement, opening doors as though he were rediscovering a forgotten kingdom.“My room!” He flopped dramatically onto his bed before jumping up again. “My books are still here! My dinosaur collection!” He hurried toward the playroom. “And my train set!”Lydia couldn’t help smiling as she watched her son disappear around another corner. She had forgotten how much space meant to a growing child.The apartment where they had stayed temporarily had been safe. Comfortable enough. But this… had always been Hayes’ home.***Aurelia crawled happily across the soft rug in the living room, giggling whenever Adrian rolled a colorful rubber ball toward her. “There you go, princess.”The little girl squealed in delight before clumsily crawling after it.Hayes immediately joined her. “I’ll help!”“No stealing your sister’s ball,” Adrian warned with a laugh.“I’m just borrowing it.”“That’s what you always say.”Hayes grinned. “It works every time
The drive to Saint Mary's Hospital felt longer than it actually was. Adrian barely noticed the traffic lights. His hands remained tightly wrapped around the steering wheel, his thoughts replaying the phone call over and over again. "There was an apparent suicide attempt..." He had never wanted this. No matter how complicated things had become... No one deserved to reach a point where life no longer felt worth living. When he finally arrived, he walked through the emergency entrance with hurried but steady steps. A nurse immediately recognized him. "Mr. Wolfe?" He nodded. "I'm here for Miss Sophie Hart." "Her mother is waiting outside Room 612." "Thank you." Barbara Hart looked as though she had aged ten years overnight. Her elegant appearance had disappeared. Her makeup was smeared. Her hair was untidy. Dark circles shadowed her swollen eyes. The moment she saw Adrian, she stood abruptly. "Adrian..." Before he could react, Barbara grabbed both of his hands. "Please... save
The Wolfe Penthouse had finally become a home again. Not the perfect home it once pretended to be. But a real one. One filled with laughter, tiny footsteps, bedtime stories, and the smell of breakfast every morning. Adrian knew better than to mistake peace for forgiveness. Lydia still kept her distance. He still slept in the guest room. She still called him by his name instead of "honey." But every morning, they shared breakfast. Every evening, they tucked Hayes and Aurelia into bed together. For Adrian... That was enough. He would earn the rest. One day at a time. Across the city... Barbara Hart frowned as she stood outside Sophie's condominium. She pressed the doorbell again. Nothing. "Sophie?" Still no answer. Barbara glanced at her watch. Her daughter had ignored every phone call since yesterday afternoon. That wasn't like Sophie. Even when she was upset, she always answered eventually. Barbara knocked harder. "Sophie!" Silence. A strange feeling settled in her stoma
Chapter 54: The morning after Sophie's confrontation was unusually quiet. Lydia barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the scene replaying in her mind. Sophie's desperate embrace. Adrian pulling away. His unwavering voice: "I don't." "I never have." She had spent years believing Adrian would never choose her. Last night... He had. Not behind closed doors. Not in private. But in front of everyone. Even so... Choosing her once didn't erase years of neglect. She knew that better than anyone. Adrian arrived at the apartment just after eight. As always, he knocked three times. No more. No less. When Lydia opened the door, he immediately noticed the suitcase standing beside the sofa. His brows furrowed. "Are you going somewhere?" Lydia looked at him calmly. "I'm moving." His heart sank. Moving? Away? Had last night pushed her even farther? Seeing the concern on his face, Lydia quietly added, "Back to the penthouse." Silence. Adrian simply stared at her. For sever
Sophie Hart refused to believe she had lost. Not after everything she had done. Not after all the years she had spent standing beside Adrian, waiting for him to notice her. Yet lately... He barely answered her calls. Her messages remained unread. The flowers she sent to his office came back untouched. Worst of all... He was spending almost every free moment with Lydia and the children. Something had to change. If Adrian wouldn't come back to her... She would make someone else pull him away from Lydia. Late Saturday morning, Sophie arrived at Arthur and Eleanor Wolfe's home carrying two carefully wrapped gift baskets: Fresh fruit. Imported tea. Homemade pastries she had specifically ordered from an expensive bakery. She greeted the housekeeper with her usual bright smile before stepping into the garden. Eleanor was watering her roses. "Oh, Sophie. What a pleasant surprise." Sophie smiled sweetly. "I was nearby, so I thought I'd visit." "Come." Eleanor handed her a small wateri
The rain began just as Adrian and Hayes returned from the park. Tiny droplets tapped against the apartment windows, turning the late afternoon into a quiet, cozy evening. Hayes stood in the middle of the living room with his soccer ball tucked under one arm. "I'm starving!" Lydia laughed softly. "You've been saying that since you were three." "Because I'm always hungry." Adrian loosened the sleeves of his dress shirt. "I'll cook." Lydia immediately looked at him. "You've already worked all day." "I know." "You don't have to." He smiled. "I remember." She blinked. "What?" "You always say that." A faint blush colored Lydia's cheeks. "And you always answer..." "'I know.'" "...'But I want to.'" For a split second, they both smiled. It felt strangely natural. As though the years between them had quietly disappeared. An hour later, the apartment smelled of garlic, butter, and warm soup. Hayes sat at the dining table drawing superheroes while Aurelia happily played with col
The hallway smelled like antiseptic and exhaustion. It clung to Lydia’s skin, seeped into her lungs, and settled somewhere deep inside her bones. She hadn’t slept—not really, and certainly not in any way that counted. Every time her eyes closed, she saw the line: flat, endless, and final. Then sh
Adrian groaned as the morning light sliced through the penthouse. Too bright. Too sharp. It drilled straight into his skull, where the ache pulsed—slow, relentless—fed less by champagne and more by everything he refused to feel last night.He was sprawled across the velvet chaise longue, still in y
Adrian stood in the sterile, fluorescent glow of the hospital corridor, just outside the high-dependency unit. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his jacket discarded somewhere in the chaos. His white dress shirt was a ruin of sweat and soot, the collar frayed and blackened. Through the t
Adrian woke up with the taste of something bitter clinging to the back of his throat. Not alcohol—something heavier, something wrong. For a moment, he didn’t move or even open his eyes, because instinct told him before memory even caught up that something was off. The air felt different: too cold,







