บททั้งหมดของ No Apologies, No Regrets: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

The wedding resumed like magic. The vows were exchanged, rings slipped onto trembling fingers, and the applause that erupted at the kiss was more than just for the newlyweds—it was for love itself.But Judah couldn’t take his eyes off Fedora.She sat beside him, breath steadying, her hand still tucked in his like she was his lifeline. And maybe, in a way, she was.After the wedding, Judah gently led her outside, into the garden. The garden behind the venue was quiet, the flowers swaying with a breeze that felt almost holy. There, beneath a tree, they stood facing each other.Fedora sat beside Judah on the garden bench, his declaration echoing in her chest like a soft drumbeat. She loved him. He loved her. It should’ve been simple.But life had never been simple for her.She pulled her hand gently from his, her gaze steady but soft.“Judah…” she started, her voice not rejecting, but measured. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I do. But it’s going to take more than words for me to bel

FaceTime calls had become her morning ritual. No matter where he was—at his desk, in the field, or in line for coffee—Judah never missed a single day.Sometimes he read baby articles to her.Sometimes he just watched her breathe.But always, always, he made her laugh.Then came the day she heard a knock on the door of her mother’s home in New Orleans.Fedora waddled to the entrance, expecting the neighbor or maybe a delivery.Instead, standing on the porch was Aika—Judah’s mother—arms wide, eyes glistening, a weekender bag slung over her shoulder, and a determined smile on her face.“Honey,” she beamed, stepping forward without hesitation. “My son sent me. And I’m not leaving until these babies are safe and snuggled in your arms.”Fedora blinked, speechless. “He sent you?”Aika pulled her into a warm, grounding hug. “Yes. He said you’d probably resist help, but I’m not here to ask—I’m here to stay.” Her hands cradled Fedora’s round belly. “My grandbabies are in there. And you, sweethe

The hospital doors slid open to the quiet morning light, and Fedora stepped out slowly, nestled between her mother and Aika. In her arms, wrapped in soft cream blankets, were her daughters—tiny, perfect, warm.Judah was already waiting by the car, keys in hand, his eyes glistening with unspoken awe. He kissed Fedora’s forehead gently, then peeked at his daughters again for the hundredth time, as if needing to confirm they were real.With Fedora’s quiet nod, he drove them home—not to her old apartment, but to the new house he had bought in secret. Their new beginning. Their sanctuary.Judah carefully carried the babies in, one by one, and Fedora followed slowly, her breath catching when she stepped into the nursery. Everything she had described to him—every color, detail, texture—was there. Down to the celestial wallpaper, she once jokingly said felt like "stars to guard them."She sat down slowly in the armchair by the window, one baby in her arms, the other passed gently to her by Ai

The call came at 7:42 AM, on a Friday morning.Fedora had just managed to soothe one of the twins back to sleep and was halfway through nursing the other when the ringtone sliced through the quiet of the morning. She almost didn’t reach for it—her body tired, her soul still adjusting to this new rhythm of motherhood—but something about the unknown number flashing on her screen made her hand tremble before it even touched the phone.She swiped. “Hello?”A pause.Then came the voice—measured, firm, but beneath it, a kind of dread that couldn’t be masked.“Mrs. Carlstone… This is Trenholm. I’m Judah’s supervisor at Langley.”Her body stiffened. The baby in her arms instinctively tightened her tiny fingers around Fedora’s gown, but Fedora barely noticed. Every cell in her body suddenly went still. The name—Trenholm—felt like a knife sliding across ice. Something cold… and cutting.She whispered, “What’s wrong?”Trenholm didn’t speak immediately.That silence, those few seconds, felt like

The package came just after noon.It was small. Unassuming. Wrapped in brown paper, sealed with a black wax insignia—the symbol of the Central Intelligence Agency.Jenny answered the door, but it was Fedora they asked for.She didn’t move at first. Just stared at the hallway as if walking it meant accepting a world where Judah Carlstone no longer breathed.But Jenny whispered, “You have to, Fedora... for him.”She walked like a ghost—hollow, barefoot, Judah’s hoodie drowning her frame.A tall man in a dark suit stood at the door. When Fedora came towards him, he gave her a salute. But Fedora didn’t hear his name. Didn’t need to. Her eyes fell on the little box in his hand.“I was asked to deliver this personally,” he said quietly, like he understood this wasn’t just a delivery—it was a severing.He extended the package. Fedora took it slowly, her fingers trembling like leaves in a storm.She sat on the edge of the couch, holding the box to her chest for a moment. Then she opened it.I