جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 140

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

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

Maxwell 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

Maxwell POVI stopped without realizing it, the words drying in my throat as the memory pressed too close to my chest. The lake rippled softly in front of us, moonlight stretching across the water like fractured glass. I hadn’t meant to pause, but suddenly the weight of everything I was saying settled deep in my bones.Claire tilted her head, studying me. “Why did you stop?” she asked gently.I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. “I need a drink,” I said. “This part… it’s harder to say.”She didn’t push. She only nodded and stood, walking beside me as we followed the curve of the lake toward the small bar tucked beneath the trees. The night air was cool, grounding. I welcomed it. We each took a glass, the clink of ice echoing too loudly in the quiet.Claire smiled softly as we walked again. “I just want you to know,” she said, “I’ve never heard a story like yours. It’s painful, but it’s honest. Thank you for trusting me with it.”Her words settled somewhere warm and unexpected. I no

Ethan POVI slammed the bedroom door harder than I meant to, the sound echoing down the hallway like a gunshot. The house fell into a suffocating silence immediately after, the kind that pressed against my chest until it was hard to breathe.Again.It had happened again.Five years. Five damn years of trying, hoping, waiting—only to end up here, standing alone in a dark room while my wife recoiled from my touch like I was something she no longer recognized.I raked a hand through my hair and paced the room, my footsteps restless, erratic. Anger burned through me, hot and sharp, but underneath it was something far worse. Fear.I’d done everything right. Or at least, I’d tried to. I’d been patient when doctors said she might never remember her past. I’d been gentle when she woke up every morning looking at me like I was a stranger she’d learned to tolerate. I’d built a life around her recovery, around Luke, around the fragile balance we called a marriage.And still… she wouldn’t let me