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CHAPTER 10- THE COUNTRY I CAN'T GO BACK TO
publish date:
2026-06-14 02:49:28
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Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 10- THE COUNTRY I CAN'T GO BACK TO
I didn't sleep after Diana's call.I lay in the dark with Dominic breathing steadily beside me, the words looping relentlessly through my head.“Someone specifically flagged your name. Before Celeste ever came to your home.”I wasn't a casualty in someone else's plan. I was the plan.I lay there until the room turned gray with dawn, until my baby stirred and I carried him to the nursing chair. In that fragile early-morning quiet, with my son warm against my chest and the city slowly waking outside the window, I stopped turning over Celeste and holding companies and corporate rivals.I went somewhere else. I went back to the beginning.I fell in love with Dominic Sinclair on a Tuesday afternoon in a coffee shop that doesn't exist anymore.I've thought about that a lot lately. You can walk down that street now and find a pharmacy where it used to be. No trace left. No marker. Just a place that became something else while nobody was paying attention. That's how it is with most things th
Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 9- THE MOST POWERFUL POSITION
I drove home from Nina's with the photograph burned behind my eyes. Celeste. Richard Holt. Eighteen months ago. That comfortable, familiar lean between them that didn't look like a first meeting. It looked like two people who already shared secrets nobody else was supposed to know about.I sat in the underground car park for a long time, engine off, Luca breathing softly in the back, and I thought.Every direct approach had failed. Confronting Dominic got me “insecure”. Asking about Celeste got me rehearsed answers. Reaching across the table got me nothing at all.Direct was the wrong tool. I got Luca out of the car seat, took the lift up, opened the front door, and smiled.Celeste was in the kitchen using my good ceramic teapot—the one I bought at a market years ago, the one I kept for myself. She looked up when I came in.“You were out early,” she said.“Just a walk.” I set my bag down, moved to the counter, completely unbothered. “Good morning?”She tilted her head. Just slightly
Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 8- YOU WERE RIGHT
I didn't sleep that night.I sat in the nursing chair long after my baby settled, the door closed, the room swallowed in darkness, turning the same sharp images over and over in my mind until they cut deeper each time.The way Celeste stood in that doorway. The way she had looked at my son.Not with warmth. Not with the soft, involuntary pull that babies draw from almost anyone. No—this was measured and deliberate. Like she was studying something that already belonged to her. The memory sat cold in my stomach, refusing to loosen its grip.By morning the decision hardened inside me. I was going to talk to Dominic.Not about the messages. Not yet. Just about this—about a woman who was in our home for less than two weeks and was already standing outside my baby's room at nine at night like she had every right. I would stay calm and specific. I would say exactly what I saw and force him to respond.That was the plan.I waited until I heard the front door click shut behind Celeste at eig
Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 7- CALCULATED
"Nice to meet you," I said.The words tasted like ash. I stood frozen in my own entrance hall, Luca warm and heavy against my chest, a stranger’s expensive suitcase planted at my feet like it already belonged. I smiled anyway—the tight, automatic smile women learn when their mind is racing and their heart is trying not to scream. Celeste smiled back, warm and perfectly calibrated, the smile of someone who already mapped out every move. Maybe she had. I was still trying to catch up.Dominic showed her the east wing himself. I stayed behind in the kitchen, gripping the counter as their footsteps faded down the hallway—his low voice explaining something unnecessary, her soft, easy laugh drifting back. Not polite, not guest-like. Comfortable. The kind of laugh that comes from shared history, from inside jokes I wasn’t part of.I put the kettle on with hands that weren’t quite steady. I told myself it was nothing. I made one cup of tea. Not two.The first three days were almost tolerabl
Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 6- SHE WALKED IN
I poured my heart out to Diana. Sitting there in the nursing chair with Luca warm and heavy against my chest, the morning light still thin and uncertain, I let it all spill out. The hair on his collar. The name that kept appearing. The fourteen messages. The hand that stayed limp under mine like dead weight. Five flat words in the dark, followed by the slow, even sound of him sleeping while I stared at nothing.For the first time. It sounded worse than I’d imagined. Diana didn’t speak right away when I finished. She wasn’t hunting for the right words—she always had them ready. She was simply letting mine settle, letting the weight of them press down on me so I couldn’t snatch them back.Then, quietly: “Meet me for coffee. Today.”“Diana, I have Luca—”“Bring him along. Today, Amara.”She was already at the table when I arrived.Diana Cross was forty-five and carried herself like someone who had stopped performing for rooms a long time ago. Silver threading through her natural hai
Too Late Mr SINCLAIR CHAPTER 5- EMPTY AIR
I did not sleep at all that night, not for one single minute, as those three messages continued to sit inside my chest like shards of glass. My baby finally cried out and gave me a reason to get up and move through the motions of another day.I got through the morning on pure autopilot, sustained only by my fierce love for my baby and the particular stubbornness of a woman who quietly decided that today would not be the day she allowed herself to fall apart completely.But somewhere between the six o’clock feeding and the nine o’clock nap, something inside me shifted in a way that felt both inevitable and terrifying. I was not yet ready to face the reality of Celeste or to pull on that dangerous thread and watch the rest of my life unravel, but the growing distance between us—the long weeks of careful politeness and a husband who moved through our shared home as though I was a stranger, that was something I believed I could still do something about if I tried.After my baby slept,
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