It was a sunny Friday, the weather was perfect for walking to the clinic, which was not too far from there. Just five blocks."You're crazy," Ayden deferred, grabbing his briefcase. "You're not walking.""Please, if I get tired I call a cab," the young pregnant woman insists. "I haven't been able to walk to Central Park, it gets dark too early."Ayden rubs his forehead heavily."I'll walk you, as soon as you get there, okay? I'll give you your space, or I'll just sit on a bench while you walk back and forth" he suggests, intending to get her to agree."Okay..." she says, taking her bag as well.They both go down in the elevator, but say no more to each other. Ayden has kept his promise to keep his distance.When they arrive, there are more people than usual, all dressed in suits."Good morning, Miss Harley," greets John."Good morning, John, who are they?" she asks him rather than Ayden."They are your bodyguards "warns Ayden behind

The days soon passed; Arya was in her seventh month of pregnancy. Ayden had ordered all the mirrors removed from her “meditation room”, so that the remodeling work could begin."Everything will be ready by the time the baby is born," Daniel reported, standing next to Arya. "The decorator is coming. I think you should go."Daniel, seeing the disappointment on Arya's face, feels sorry for her."Don't misunderstand me. I mean for emotional health" he clarifies, trying to be empathetic. "It will be less difficult for you if you don't get involved in this.""Involve me less, you say? When the child is carrying half of my genes, and I'm the one gestating it, feeling every movement or when it hiccups…. What a stupid thing to say" she declares, walking away angrily from there."Arya, don't be angry," Daniel asks in vain. She has already gone downstairs on her way to her bedroom."What I should do is get away from this place, go to Cary again," she mutters, entering the hallway to her room, bu

The couple -not a couple-, had arrived at Ayden's apartment. Arya was going with a broken heart and mind. Meanwhile, he didn't know what to do. He wanted to comfort her, but he had already exceeded his limits on other occasions, all involving or on behalf of his son. On this occasion, however, it was purely personal to the girl.Her ramblings distracted him from his duty as a knight."Miss Arya, are you well," Bea asks when she sees her arrive with puffy eyes.It was well known to all the friction between the two. They even whispered when they weren't about the compatibility of their characters or how they were such opposites that it made them attracted to each other.“No” Ayden answers for her. “It's no good. Take her to the living room, I'll be right back.”"Yes sir," Bea affirms and patiently and tenderly leads Arya away.The young woman lies lost in thought, sad and desperate."Miss, if there is anything we can help with

Arya lies in her recliner, eyes closed, AirPods on, listening to “Chasing cars” by Snow Patrol. Concentrating on every word, she imagines a world where everything is perfect, one where the millionaire's heart is her own. Where he allows her to get close, to touch him, to love him. But it is not so. Her world is reduced to a misery of time-sharing, of feigned smiles and interest founded on a simple business. She sings her heartbroken voice softly, but even so it is heard in the hallway. Ayden, who waits for her to finish singing before approaching, remains leaning against the nearby wall. Daniel Cheng was right when he told her that she was falling in love. "Could it be that, or is she just singing for singing?" she wonders. “Hello” he greets as she enters the bedroom ready. "It won't be long before your mom arrives. They're coming with the boys you picked out, are you sure they'll help you?" "Thanks for letting me know" she replies without enc

It was mid-afternoon when Arya received a call from Mark, taking advantage of Ayden's virtual meeting with Daniel in his office. She decided to take it in her relaxation room."Yes, Mark. What do you think about what I sent you?" she inquired with great concern."Hello, I've talked to both the head of cardiac surgery and the specialist oncologist, and they mutually agree that chemotherapy or radiation therapy in your mother's condition could be very aggressive," he commented with his characteristic professional tone. Upon hearing this, Arya slumped her shoulders. "However, all hope is not lost. The Spaniards are conducting an experimental treatment that basically involves combining several immunotherapy drugs.""Are you proposing that we take my mother to Spain?" she asks, confused and hopeful. "I don't think she can handle so many hours of flying.""No, Arya. What I recommend and Dr. Jones suggests is that we perform the treatment here. One of his colleagues was