Semua Bab Wedcuffed: Bab 281 - Bab 290

Sarah POVWeekend EveningThe apartment smelled like lavender baby lotion with cardamom tea, a mix when motherhood comforted and I stole moments of peace.It was Saturday. Soft, Unhurried.After Gabriel had finally gone down for his late nap, I had the rare luxury of curling up on the couch with a worn novel and ten blessed minutes of stillness.Until the doorbell rang.I blinked, frowning. I wasn’t expecting anyone.My robe did hang loosely upon my tank top also leggings then as I tiptoed toward the door. The identity of the other side made me tighten my hold on it automatically.Adrian.He stood there wearing slacks and a white button-down shirt, holding a box of dubious-looking pastries. His hair was just a bit too much groomed and blown all about for someone who just now stopped over.“Hi,” he smoothly said, “I thought I’d stop by since I was in the area.” Something sweet was brought for Gabriel.I hesitated for a beat. “He’s asleep.”Adrian’s smile didn’t falter. “It is able to wa

Sarah’s POVTuesday | Around 6:30 PMThe city had started softening into the dusk, the skyline faded into the familiar lavender haze as I guided Gabriel’s stroller since I was walking through the park. Autumn had painted all things in gold and fire then, I heard leaves crunch under my sneakers then, air was cool and sharp with a promise of evening. Life pulsed so easily all around me, with couples on benches as they huddled, earbuds passed from between teenagers, fathers who chased wobbling toddlers or even pushed at swings.I slowed near to a fountain at which a little boy, maybe of Gabriel’s age, had been lifted in air by that father of his, and then his laughter spilled out as music.Something inside me clenched. That used to be a dream of mine. The quiet kind of family, not quite the fantasy version. The reliable kind. A man who stayed. Who remained in times of inconvenience? Who was it that stayed when all of the things became so uncertain?His small face was sleepy and sunlit, Ga

Sarah’s POVFriday Evening | 7:45 PMThe skyline glitters like cut glass as I pull on into Alessandro’s private driveway indulgent, sharp. At once the security guards who are at the entry recognize me and then wave the car through without a word. Anything they do not need to say now.My driver James glances at me through the rearview mirror as he parks the sleek black car by the front door. His expression does not read, but attends to.I say quietly “I won’t be long” and I grab the bag near me.He nods. “Ma’am, should you need anything at all, text me then.”Ma’am.Suddenly, even that word feels quite heavy. I do feel just as though a season aged me for a decade. Love's being enough is now something that I do not believe, as I did before.I step out since my heels tap against the polished marble. I pull my cream wool coat tighter over my shoulders. That which I carry warms me more than that coat. The air stings—aloof, urban, slightly brisk.The elevator is both silent and also sleek. A

Sarah's POVSaturday Afternoon | 4:10 PMBy the time that I pulled into the underground parking of Alessandro’s building, the sky softened and it became a quiet grey. Such gray evenings seemed quiet, nearly personal. It was the kind of day that made you want to curl beneath a blanket and to sip something warm. For just but a moment, you wanted for to let your guard down.Gabriel was at his home with Ester, and she’d promised him that she would keep him very entertained and distracted from all of his teething misery. I wrote down a note just before I left. I had wanted to have it ready in the event that I lost my nerve at a later time. Only that it was that I couldn’t sit in silence anymore now, I wasn’t sure of what I expected from this visit now.I told to myself my purpose seemed simple. I was only here for checking on Alessandro. I brought soup—a delicate chicken velouté incorporating tarragon plus white pepper I made that morning. It was a soft inquiry that asked, “Are you okay?” a

Sarah POVThe week passed in a blur of deadlines, meetings, along with that mechanical, focused kind of energy only comes from work's weight drowning emotions. Every morning, I rose up before the sun rose, I then fed Gabriel, I then dressed him up in his onesie with the tiny stars, and I then handed him off to the nanny with a smile that said, “We’re doing fine.”By Friday, I was back inside the boardroom because I had to defend a marketing pivot to a room full of tired, under-caffeinated executives. I’d met Alessandro within the firm’s downtown office for a project review the day before. Now, he was doing better now.We were professional. Polite. And unsettlingly adept at feigning that the past was actually nonexistent. That night has no need for words. Or the breakfast. Or anything once of great importance.One morning, Ester had caught me staring into my coffee as if it held all of the answers. She said, “You’re not talking about him”. “You are not over him either though.”I didn’