MasukMaxwell POVI woke up with the weight of last night pressing heavily on my chest, the memory of my mother’s breakdown clinging to me like a shadow I couldn’t shake. Rebecca had always been strong—unyielding, composed, almost untouchable. Seeing her crumble in my arms, sobbing like the world had finally caught up with her, had unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. I kept replaying it over and over, searching for the moment I might have caused it, the careless word or long-standing wound I had reopened without realizing.As I dressed for work, my thoughts spiraled. Had I said something wrong? Had I pushed her too far just by existing, by living my life in fragments and disappointments she never approved of? Or worse—had she finally seen something coming that I was still blind to? Her words echoed in my head, soft but resolute, telling me she only wanted me to be happy and that she would stand by me no matter what. It felt like a benediction delivered far too late, or maybe an apolog
Rebecca POVI don’t remember the drive to Victoria’s house. I only remember the pressure in my chest, the way my hands shook so badly I nearly dropped my keys twice, and the singular thought pounding through my skull like a warning bell—she is wrong, and she has to stop. By the time I pulled into Victoria’s gated driveway, my fear had curdled into something sharper. Urgency. Desperation. Resolve.The front door opened before I could knock, as if she’d sensed my presence like a predator senses weakness.“What did you do?” Victoria snapped, her eyes blazing. “What have you done now, Rebecca?”“I saw her,” I said, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “And she’s not Amelia.”Victoria let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shutting the door with a decisive thud. “You went to see her?” Her voice rose. “After everything I told you? After everything we planned?”“Yes,” I shot back. “And if you’d stop assuming you know everything for once in your miserable life, you’d listen.”Her face d
Rebecca POVVictoria’s words followed me long after she left, sinking into my bones like a slow poison. The house felt quieter than it ever had, every ticking clock and distant creak mocking the chaos in my mind. I sat alone in the living room, hands clasped so tightly together my fingers ached, staring at nothing while everything replayed itself over and over again.Because Amelia won’t. She’ll come for you.I closed my eyes, but it didn’t help. If anything, the memories grew sharper.I saw Amelia as she used to be—standing in my kitchen years ago, nervous but hopeful, her hands folded neatly in front of her as if she were afraid to take up too much space. I remembered how beautiful she looked beside Maxwell, how his eyes softened whenever she laughed. I remembered how much that unsettled me.Back then, I’d told myself I was protecting my son. That a mother’s instinct had guided my actions. That Amelia was wrong for him, that she would destroy him, that I saw something no one else di
Victoria POVWhen I got home that night, sleep was impossible. I wandered from room to room like a ghost, heels discarded by the door, gown still clinging to my body as if the night refused to let me go. Amelia’s face haunted me. Alive. Breathing. Smiling. And Maxwell—Maxwell hadn’t looked surprised at all. Not even for a second.That was what broke me the most.If Amelia had truly been dead, shock would have crossed his face. Anger. Pain. Something. But there had been nothing. Just calm acknowledgment, as though he had seen her yesterday. Or worse—this morning.I sank onto the couch, my head falling into my hands. Had he known all along? Had everyone known except me? The thought twisted violently in my chest. I replayed the scene again and again—the way he’d stopped, the ease in his stride, the subtle softening of his eyes. He’d looked… happy. Genuinely happy.And then there was the man beside her.Tall. Confident. His hand wrapped around hers as if it belonged there. As if she belon
Victoria POVRebecca hadn’t ignored my calls before.Not once in the ten years I’d known her.That alone was enough to unsettle me.I stood outside the Cole estate that morning, my phone clutched in my hand, staring up at the familiar wrought-iron gates like they might suddenly give me answers. I’d called Rebecca three times the night before. Left two messages. Sent a carefully worded text this morning—concerned but not desperate.Nothing.Rebecca Cole was many things—manipulative, overbearing, overly involved in her son’s life—but she had always been consistent. Especially when it came to me. She was the one who’d pushed me into Maxwell’s orbit long after he’d made it clear he didn’t want me there. She’d been my greatest ally, my loudest supporter, my assurance that what Maxwell and I had once shared wasn’t over.So why the sudden silence?I inhaled sharply and straightened my spine before pressing the intercom. The gates opened almost immediately, which only deepened the knot in my
Amelia POVEthan spread the wedding magazines across the dining table with a kind of boyish excitement that made my chest ache in a way I didn’t understand. The morning light streamed through the windows, catching on the glossy pages, turning lace gowns and floral arches into something almost unreal. He pulled a chair closer to mine, his knee brushing against my leg as if the smallest distance between us was unacceptable.“So,” he said gently, “tell me what you think. Do you like the garden ceremony idea, or would you rather something indoors?”I stared at the pictures without really seeing them. Weeks ago, I would have been giddy, circling designs, imagining colors and vows and a future that felt secure. Now, there was only a strange heaviness in my chest, like I was watching someone else’s life unfold in front of me.“They’re… nice,” I said after a moment, forcing a smile.Ethan tilted his head, studying me. “Nice?” he echoed softly. “You usually have opinions. Strong ones.”I laugh







