Mag-log inNATHANIELThree months have passed, and somewhere along the way, I have become a man I would not have allowed in my mere presence.There was a time when everything about me was deliberate. Controlled. Measured down to the smallest detail because anything less felt like weakness. Something I had no tolerance for, not in business, not in life, not in myself.Now, I stand in front of the mirror some mornings, and I can barely hold my own gaze long enough to register what the fuck I am looking at. Because there is nothing there.The beard came first. One missed shaving day turned into several, then into something thick enough to hide behind, erasing the sharp lines I once kept so carefully defined.My hair followed the same path, growing long enough that it falls into my face if I leave it loose, forcing me to tie it back in a careless knot that I do not bother adjusting even when it sits unevenly at the base of my neck.As for my perfectly tailored suits, I cannot remember the last time
BETTYOutside of that, Lucy is back from London, exactly as loud and vibrant as she was before she left, slipping back into my life as if no time had passed at all.She is still with George, still as annoyingly perfect as ever, and the four of us have fallen into a rhythm of double dates, late dinners, and conversations that stretch longer than they should.And sometimes, when I sit back and watch it all unfold, Grace, laughing at something completely ridiculous, Lucy rolling her eyes dramatically, George trying to keep up, and Rhys looking at me like I am something worth holding onto, I catch myself thinking the same thing over and over again.This feels like a dream. The kind you do not want to wake up from.But I push that thought away every time it surfaces, refusing to let old fears dictate what I have now, refusing to let shadows from the past creep into something that has taken so much effort to build.I deserve this. We deserve this. And for the most part… I have allowed mysel
BETTYIt’s been three whole months since I walked out of Blackwell estate with Grace’s hand in mine and suitcases that felt heavier than they had any right to be.If someone had told me back then that I would be standing here now, breathing easier, thinking clearer, living without that constant weight pressing down on my chest, I would have laughed in their face because nothing about that day felt like the beginning of something good.And yet… here I am.Living in Rhys’s building with Grace has been amazing, in a way that almost feels dangerous to admit out loud.Like if I say it too confidently, the universe might hear me and decide to correct it.Grace struggled more than I allowed myself to fully acknowledge in those first few days because if I had sat with it for too long, I might have broken under the weight of what I had done.There were tears that came out of nowhere, small at first and then louder when she realized they were not going to magically stop the change.Then there w
Hi guys....I’ve been seeing the comments wondering if the story has ended, and I just had to come in here and say, absolutely not. Not even close.We are far from done with this story, I promise you that.I just took a tiny breather to reset, clear my head, and come back stronger because you guys chapters that hit, not rushed ones that don’t do the story justice.I owe you nothing but my best work.I’ll be back very soon, and we’re going right back into consistent updates. No disappearing acts, no leaving you hanging like that again.Thank you for your patience, your loyalty, and your engagement. I'll see you soon, besties!🤍
BETTYThe rest of the way, I go over the plan in my head one more time, repeating each step until it feels real, solid, possible.Accept Rhys’s help. But only until we find our own place. Take on more work to keep Grace in that worldly expensive school because she needs at least one part of her life to be stable.Build a new life. Find peace, and lastly, find a new way to be happy.My fingers loosen slightly around the steering wheel as I repeat it in my mind, until I pull up outside the building with Rhys’s club and convince myself I can do this.The building rises in front of me, sleek and dark against the brightening morning sky, the large sign still dim now that the club has closed for the night.The street is quiet, but is that kind of quiet that comes after chaos, when the city is catching its breath before starting all over again.Rhys is already outside waiting for us, and the mere sight of him makes something in my chest ease.He stands near the curb with his hands entwined b
BETTYAs the estate gates begin to disappear behind me, my chest finally caves in, and my fingers tighten around the steering wheel until my knuckles ache beneath the strain.I try to keep my eyes forward, force them there, but every few seconds they betray me, drifting upward toward the rearview mirror where I can still see it. Everything we are leaving behind.The black iron gates. The winding driveway. The endless stretch of green, and the roof of the only home Grace has ever known.A sharp breath catches in my throat, but I swallow it down. Hard. Because we are not just leaving the walls and rooms behind.I am leaving Harriette’s voice calling for breakfast in the garden. Grace’s laughter bouncing through those endless halls. Movie nights in the guest house. And I had somehow started building without realizing it.I blink hard and drag my eyes back to the road before the tears threatening behind them spill over.This isn’t how I thought the morning would go.I left the guest house
NATHANIELMy hands won’t stop trembling, and the paper shakes between my fingers, the words blurring no matter how many times I blink.I must have read the same line a dozen times, but it still doesn’t make sense. Divorce. “She wanted to divorce my grandfather?” The word tastes foreign in my mouth.
BETTY“Girls’ night out, huh?” Rhys’s voice slips into the air behind me, smooth and amused, with that kind of teasing tone that says he knows what happened here tonight.I turn toward him, or rather, I try to, but the world sways a little too much for me to look graceful doing it.“Yeah, we might’
BETTYI freeze outside the door, my breath caught somewhere between my chest and my throat.I force myself to look in, and the sight steals whatever air was left in my lungs.The room looks like a battlefield, books scattered like fallen soldiers, and papers littering the floor in torn, angry flurri
NATHANIELIt’s finally time to close the Virnkirk deal, a moment that should feel clean and decisive, but for reasons no one has bothered to explain properly, they want Rhys present.The request irritates me more than it should because I don’t need his theatrics or his unpredictable presence muddyin







