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26. THE BIRTH

Autor: Frya Isaac
last update Fecha de publicación: 2026-03-23 22:02:34

Lydia lay on the narrow bed, eight months pregnant, her body caught in the violent rhythm of labor. Every ninety seconds, another contraction tore through her—deeper, harder, like her bones were being forced apart from the inside.

Sweat clung to her skin. Her fingers gripped the rails until her knuckles blanched. Still she didn’t scream. She breathed. In. Out. Slow. Controlled. The way she had practiced.

“No epidural?” the nurse asked again, hesitant.

Lydia shook her head. “No.”

“You’re sure?
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  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   323. Lydia's Decision

    The offer arrived on a Tuesday morning. Lydia was sitting in the office above Lydia's Heart, reviewing the bakery's latest financial report, when Julian knocked on the door. "Do you have a minute?" Lydia looked up. "Sure." Julian walked in carrying a thick folder and placed it on her desk. "What is that?" "Something you should probably read before you say no." Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Why would I say no?" "Because it's big," he said, pushing the folder toward her. Lydia opened it, her eyes moving across the first page before stopping abruptly. She read it again. "Three locations?" Julian nodded. "Three new locations in eighteen months." "That's..." "Big." She slowly turned another page. The proposal included projected revenue, expansion plans, staffing requirements, supply chains, marketing budgets, and a proposed investment structure. The investor wasn't offering a small loan; they wanted a significant stake in Lydia's Heart. In exchange, they would provide the capital

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   322. The Woman Behind the Name

    The ballroom was filled with people Lydia didn't know: executives, investors, bankers, founders, and lawyers. They were people wearing expensive watches and engaging in conversations that seemed to revolve around numbers large enough to make her dizzy. It was one of the biggest business events Adrian had attended that year, and Lydia had agreed to come with him. She hadn't joined to enter the business world or to become another Wolfe executive; she had simply wanted to support her husband. But the moment they entered the room, Lydia realized something. Everyone knew her—or rather, everyone knew her name. "Mr. Wolfe." "Good evening, Mr. Wolfe." "Adrian, it's good to see you." Then the smiles would shift toward her. "Mrs. Wolfe." "How lovely to see you." "Mrs. Wolfe, you look beautiful." "Mrs. Wolfe, we've heard so much about your family." Lydia smiled politely. "Thank you," she said, over and over again. She had become accustomed to being called Mrs. Wolfe, but tonight, som

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   321. The Invitation

    The invitation arrived on Monday morning. Lydia was sitting at the kitchen island, reviewing the weekly sales report from Lydia's Heart, when Adrian placed a cream-colored envelope beside her coffee. She glanced at it. "What is that?" "An invitation." "To what?" Adrian pulled out the chair beside her and sat down. "The Wolfe family dinner." Lydia's eyes immediately moved back to the envelope. "The family dinner?" He nodded. "Mother is hosting it." Lydia stared at the embossed Wolfe crest. She hadn't seen one of those invitations in a long time. For a moment, an old feeling returned—pressure, expectation, and the weight of walking into a room where everyone already knew who she was supposed to be: Mrs. Wolfe, Adrian's wife, the woman who had once been expected to smile, sit beside her husband, and represent the family perfectly. She looked at Adrian. "Do I have to go?" "No." His answer came immediately. Lydia blinked. "No?" "No." He took the invitation from her hand. "You do

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   320. Date Night

    For the first time in weeks, Lydia left the bakery before sunset. She checked the time on her phone as she walked toward the penthouse elevator. Six-thirty. She frowned, unable to remember the last time she had finished work this early. When the elevator doors opened, Adrian was waiting in the hallway, wearing a dark jacket over a simple shirt—no tie, no briefcase, and no phone pressed against his ear. Lydia immediately became suspicious. "What are you doing here?" Adrian smiled. "Waiting for you." "Why?" "Because we're going out." She blinked. "Going out where?" "On a date." Lydia stared at him. "A date?" "Yes." "Tonight?" "That's usually how dates work." She laughed. "Adrian, I have work." "No." She narrowed her eyes. "You can't just say no." "I can tonight," he said, taking her hand. "Julian has the kitchen covered. Your staff has everything under control." "How do you know?" "Because I asked." "You asked Julian?" "Yes." "And he agreed?" "He practically pushed

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   319. A Husband's Jealousy

    By Thursday afternoon, Lydia's Heart was unusually quiet. Most of the customers had already left, and the evening rush wouldn't begin for another hour. But the kitchen was anything but quiet: mixers hummed, ovens clicked, metal bowls clattered against the counters, and the sweet smell of caramel and butter filled the air. Lydia stood beside Julian, staring at three small plates arranged in front of them. "Too sweet," she said. Julian tasted the first pastry again. "I thought you liked caramel." "I do." "Then what's wrong?" "It overpowers the coffee." Julian nodded thoughtfully. "Okay. Less caramel." He scribbled something into his notebook. "What about the second one?" Lydia took another bite. "The texture is good." "Too dry?" "No," she thought for a moment, then smiled. "Actually... I like this one." Julian grinned. "Finally." "You say that like I've been rejecting everything." "You rejected six versions of the same pastry." "Because they weren't right." "Exactly." L

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   318. The Sweet Morning

    Lydia woke up before her alarm. For a few seconds, she simply stared at the ceiling as morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting soft golden lines across the quiet room. She should have been thinking about the bakery, the morning deliveries, the new pastry menu, or the meeting she had scheduled with Julian. Instead, one thought kept returning to her: she had kissed Adrian. Lydia closed her eyes. She could still remember the warmth of his lips, the way he had frozen for a moment as though he couldn't believe she had actually done it, and the way he had waited for her to decide whether she wanted to continue. And then... she had pulled him closer. Lydia opened her eyes again. "Oh, God." She covered her face with both hands. Why was she embarrassed? She was married to him; they had been married for years and had children together. There was nothing strange about kissing her own husband. Except this hadn't felt like an ordinary kiss. It had felt like the beginning of s

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   2. NOTHING IMPORTANT

    Lydia stepped out of the examination room with the envelope clutched tightly in her hand. Too tight. The thin paper crinkled under her grip, but she didn’t loosen it. Inside it—seven weeks of a truth she wasn’t ready to face. Seven weeks of something that could destroy what little control she had l

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   1. THE DAY MY MARRIAGE ENDED

    The pen in Lydia Hart’s hand trembled violently. Not just a slight shake. It quivered like it carried the weight of everything she had lost—every silent morning, every unanswered question, every night she had spent staring at a door that never opened for her. Three years. Three years… reduced to a

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   202.The Sovereign Lock

    The smooth, rhythmic hum of the high-speed document scanner was the only sound echoing through the minimalist executive suite of Hart Legal Chambers. Lydia Hart sat at the center of a massive, circular glass desk. The tailored gray silk blazers of her past survival era had been replaced by a sharp

  • Reclaiming the Love We Lost   198. The Path to the Sky

    The sleek, midnight-black AgustaWestland helicopter sheared through the heavy low-hanging fog of the Manhattan skyline, its rotors cutting the crisp night air with a rhythmic, thunderous roar. Inside the sound-insulated, leather-lined cabin, the soft amber dashboard lights cast long shadows over t

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