Richard hadn’t meant to stop at the conservatory. He’d been on his way to the library, a stack of briefs waiting, but the sound of laughter carried through the hall. Light, easy laughter.He paused, hand hovering at the doorframe, and there they were.Maxwell stood on the small putting green he’d rolled out for Meredith, the girl’s tiny hands gripping the club. He adjusted her stance, exaggerating his movements until she giggled. Carter, ever the cheerleader, clapped his hands and shouted, “Go, Meri!”And beside them, Monet.Her hands cupped around her mouth to call encouragement, her eyes bright, her smile unguarded. When Meredith connected with the ball—barely sending it two feet—she laughed again, warm and proud, as if it had been a championship shot.Richard’s stomach tightened.It should have been nothing. A family moment, harmless. But something in the ease of it, Maxwell’s easy charm, Monet’s answering laughter needled at him until his chest burned.She had laughed with him lik
Last Updated : 2025-09-28 Read more