Semua Bab To Hate, To Love, And To Wed: Bab 91 - Bab 100

One month later.“Miss Daniels!”I spin around, eyes searching through the space, trying to figure out who just called me. The moment I spot Mrs. Alora Mount, a smile spreads across my lips.We weave through the sea of organizers, all rushing around to put everything in order before the guests start arriving. When we’re close enough, we greet each other with cheek kisses.“It’s so nice to see you again, Mrs. Mount. You look as radiant as ever,” I say, practically squealing with excitement.She chuckles, shaking her head. “Please, call me Alora.”I grin. “Not until you start calling me Ada.”We both laugh.Alora Mount is the wife of Keylor Mount, one of the biggest businessmen in New York City. And she’s not just his wife—she’s built a brand of her own in the fashion and beauty world.Everyone knows she leveraged her husband’s influence to climb up fast, and she never tried to hide it. I admire that about her—unapologetic, strategic, and powerful.We’re collaborating on a showcase toni

I feel giddy tonight. For the first time in thirty days, I finally had the opportunity to be so close with my woman and the feeling was exhilarating. My blood is still pulsing with desire. My car still smells like her. I still hear her little defiant voice in my head.And before you start asking why it took a month to see her again, I’ve come to understand that Adaline struggles to focus when she’s distracted. I’m her distraction. And If I hadn’t given her space to soak into her creative element, she wouldn’t have produced such phenomenal designs that wowed everyone tonight.So it was worth it—watching her get her accolades and knowing we had to sacrifice our need to be close to each other for her to achieve this milestone. I flatten my palm over where she sat and feel something underneath my skin. Her purse. A wider smile curls my lips. This is just another excuse to see her again tonight. Maybe this time, I’ll be adamant about having that coffee. And I’ll probably end up holding h

Two days later.Adaline is still asleep. And I’ve been standing and pacing for so long my legs are aching.This is the only thing I can do. I won’t be able to function any other way until I’m certain my woman’s eyes are open and stable.The room smells like antiseptic. Lavender strangles the air. It shouldn’t—antiseptic and Lavender should have nothing to do with each other.But Kate placed a diffuser in the corner, as though pretending this place is anything other than what it is: sterile, quiet, and heavy with grief.I’m almost convinced she’s still in denial. Because how can her best friend go from being a successful entrepreneur with a unique brand that’s already causing traffic to lying in bed unconscious…Adaline mumbles again. Just like she’d been doing since today—a string of slurred, soft nonsense.Drool clings to the corner of her mouth, and her eyes shift beneath their lids.I stay standing—hands folded over my heaving chest, eyes intent on her. Kate is curled in a chair

“What was that about?” Ada’s father asks the moment I enter the en-suite waiting room.I look around. “Where’s Kate?”“She’s running a few errands for me,” Jameson answers with a straightface.Nodding, I plop into the couch, throw my head back and shut my eyes. I can feel my skin burning with his eyes as he awaits a response—one I’m unwilling to give. I pry my eyes open as my head lolls to the side. “It’s nothing.”“It’s not nothing.” Jameson says pointedly. “Two days, Michael, and you’ve been a shell of yourself.”“Yes,” I agree, “because my woman is in pain. Because I failed to protect her.”“It’s beyond that.” He counters.I raise a brow. “Is it?”“Michael—”I cut him off with a groan. “I haven’t slept in two days. I need to rest my head.”“She’s crying,” Jamseon says, all of his smugness disappearing, replaced by the desperation of a father who wants to understand his daughter’s pain. “What did you talk about?”I’m silent.A beat. Two. “She was pregnant. Lost it in the attack.”

People usually describe pain as physical.They couldn’t be more wrong.Pain isn’t always physical.Pain is the voice in my head singing aloud my inadequacies.Pain is standing by this door and listening to my woman explain the extent of her ordeal to her best friend.Pain is not being able to do anything for her.Pain is knowing that my woman lost a part of her that she might not get back.I twist the knob separating the en-suite waiting room and her main room, crossing the room on slow and soft steps.Kate raises her head, blinking away her exhaustion. “Mr. Black?”“Give us a moment, Kate,” my voice is soft, “please…”Nodding Kate stands and exits the room. The loss of her touch makes Ada twist, mumbling, “please… don’t leave me.”I kick off my shoes and climb into bed with her, holding her against my chest while I stroke her hair. “It’s okay, baby,” I whisper. “It’s me… I’m here.”Her body shivers and I hold her closer, kissing her head and whispering words even I cannot hear—or pro