All Chapters of Unworthy No More : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

194 Chapters

Initial Zeal Reignited

IslaThursday morning came faster than I expected. I almost canceled twice. Once when I noticed the faint stain on the cuff of my blouse, the only “smart” one I owned now, and once again when Sophie decided she wanted only the pink socks with the tiny gold stars and nothing else would do.But somehow, we both made it out the door. I dropped her at school, her hair ribbon slightly askew, and then took a cab to the cafe Rachel had suggested. It was the kind of place that smelled like toasted bagels and ambition, laptops open, people leaning over coffee cups with that sharp, hungry look I used to recognize in myself. I tugged my blouse straighter and scanned the room.Rachel spotted me first. She looked almost exactly the same, though her hair was shorter now, with neat silver threads glinting under the café lights. When she smiled, the knot in my chest loosened.“Isla,” she said warmly, standing to hug me. “It’s been… what, four years?” “Closer to seven,” I admitted, sliding into the se

A Call And A Choice

Isla The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes the next morning was the faint blue glow of my phone on the nightstand. Sophie’s school alarm had not gone off yet, but Rachel’s message from last night still sat there, waiting for me like a bookmark in the middle of a story.I have got an idea.I re-read it three times while lying in bed, my hair in a wild halo from sleep, the blanket tangled around my legs. There was no other detail. She had not followed up, had not sent a cheery “good morning” or a nudge. And yet my stomach was already doing small, hopeful somersaults. Hope is such a fragile thing. You learn to handle it carefully after you have had it crushed enough times.Sophie padded in a few minutes later, her hair sticking up like a dandelion puff. “Morning, Mum.” She climbed into bed beside me, her feet freezing against my legs. “Morning, love.” I kissed the top of her head. “Want toast or porridge today?” “Toast. With lots of butter.”“Lots of butter it is.”We moved throug

Coffee With Anita

Isla's POV Rachel was right about one thing, waiting made it worse. The longer I had between the message I had sent Anita and her reply, the more my imagination twisted itself into knots. But Anita had written back within an hour. 'Of course, Isla! It would be lovely to catch up. I’m free Thursday at eleven, shall we meet at the little cafe on Portland Street?'I had stared at the message for so long I could have memorized every curve of every letter. I almost convinced myself not to answer, but my fingers had moved on their own. 'Thursday works. See you then.' And now here I was, standing outside Portland Street Cafe on a Thursday morning, my palms sweaty despite the cool air.Through the glass I could already see Anita at a corner table. She looked exactly the same. Tidy bob, bright scarf, posture that somehow managed to look both professional and approachable. She was scrolling on her phone, one hand wrapped around a cappuccino.For a moment, I considered turning around. I could c

Morning Promises

Isla’s POVThe alarm buzzed faintly from the nightstand, but before I could even roll over to silence it, a small, warm hand patted at my arm. “Mommy, wake up. It’s morning.”Sophie’s voice carried more authority than any alarm clock. Her brown eyes, wide and unyielding, left no room for negotiation. I groaned softly, but a smile tugged at my lips anyway. Leaning over, I pressed a kiss against her forehead. “Alright, my little general,” I murmured, sitting up.For the first time in what felt like forever, I did not feel the familiar heaviness that usually pressed down on my chest the moment I opened my eyes. I was tired, of course, I was always tired, but beneath that fatigue there was a flicker of something else. A thin thread of energy, fragile but real. Hope, maybe.I padded into the kitchen, tying my hair into a messy knot as the kettle whistled. The apartment was still dim and quiet, save for Sophie humming softly in the other room. I brewed a pot of tea and set my mug down besid

His Presence Bent The Atmosphere

IslaI stopped in my tracks, Sophie’s little hand tugging insistently at mine. Her chatter about the picture she drew at daycare blurred into background noise as my eyes locked on the sleek black car parked at the community gate. Of course it was him. Alexander Langston.He leaned casually against the car, suit jacket unbuttoned, one hand tucked into his trouser pocket, as though this run-down neighborhood were just another boardroom he commanded. His presence alone bent the atmosphere, making everything smaller, quieter. Even the guard at the gate seemed too intimidated to breathe normally.My stomach dropped. I could not just turn away, not with Sophie’s eyes already darting curiously toward him. And God knew Alexander was not the type to be ignored. “Mommy,” Sophie whispered, tugging harder. “That handsome uncle is looking at us.” I exhaled sharply through my nose, bracing myself. “Yes, he is.”And then, inevitably, he moved. His long strides closed the distance with calculated ea

Watching Her Run

Alexander LangstonI watched her disappear into the narrow streets of the community, the worn concrete and rusted gates swallowing her slight frame almost immediately. The late afternoon sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky with streaks of gold and copper, but the light did little to soften the rough edges of the place. And yet, as always, she moved with a natural grace that made the run-down surroundings feel almost irrelevant. Isla Hart. I allowed myself a small, almost imperceptible smile. She did not notice me, not really, but that had never mattered. She never would. Not yet.I thought back to that night four months ago, the memory as vivid as if it were happening now. The rain had been relentless, hammering the city streets with an unyielding rhythm. I had just arrived from out of town, my driver maneuvering through the slick asphalt with the precision I expected. My mind was occupied with schedules, board meetings, and contracts. Life moved fast, as it always d

Drafting Possibilities

IslaI closed the front door behind Sophie, tucking the little blanket she had brought home from daycare into the corner of the sofa. Her chatter filled the apartment for a moment before she flopped onto the rug, arranging her crayons and paper like a tiny general organizing troops.And me? I sank into the chair at the kitchen table, laptop open, and stared at the blank document that was supposed to become my resume. The envelope of advice from Anita sat beside me, a quiet promise of possibilities. And somewhere, lingering at the edge of my mind, was the image of Alexander Langston. His sharp gray eyes, the way he h watched me run just now, the almost imperceptible curve of his mouth that suggested he knew more than he ever let on.I shook my head, forcing the thought away. He was… complicated. And I had no time to worry about complicated. Not now. I had work to do, a future to carve, a path that had to begin somewhere, even if I did not yet fully believe in it.I typed my name at the

Alexander’s Observation

AlexanderI watched from the corner of the street, leaning against the hood of the car. Isla’s sneakers scuffed against the uneven pavement as she jogged toward the rundown community where she lived. Her hair caught in the breeze, slightly disheveled, but there was an unmistakable determination in the way she moved. Every time I saw her, I was reminded of the first impression she had left on me, fifteen years ago.It had been the rainy season, the streets slick and treacherous. I had been fourteen, terrified, battered from a brutal abduction that had ended with me being thrown into the river. My body had ached, my limbs heavy, and my lungs burned as I fought to keep afloat. Every instinct screamed to surrender, but then I felt hands grip me and pull me up.I gasped as I remembered her voice, ringing clear and furious, cutting through the torrential downpour. “I, Isla Hart, will not let you die! Don’t you dare close your eyes on me!”Her small, determined frame had disregarded her own

A Step Forward

Isla The sun had not fully risen, but Sophie’s small feet padding across the apartment floor pulled me from my restless sleep. She was already dressed, hair braided into two uneven pigtails, clutching her stuffed rabbit. “Mama, wake up!” she chirped, eyes shining with unbridled energy. I yawned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and smiled at her. “Good morning, my little firecracker.”She laughed, hopping onto the bed for a quick morning hug before darting toward the kitchen. I followed slowly, my mind still foggy from dreams tangled with memories and a faint pulse of excitement. Yesterday had been… unusual. A conversation with Alexander Langston. The same domineering CEO who had splashed me with dirty water that rainy night and inexplicably handed me a sum of money I did not fully understand at the time. I had kept the encounter professional, but the address he had given me lingered in my mind like a secret promise.After brewing tea a

First Interview

Isla The morning air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of rain lingering from the night before. Sophie had already been dropped off at daycare, waving enthusiastically at me before scampering inside. I felt a twinge of separation pangs, but I reminded myself, this was for both of us. Every step I took to reclaim my career was a step toward securing her future.I parked my car near the small, understated building where Horizon Outreach was located, a non-profit specializing in community programs. The address Alexander had provided had led me here, and despite myself, I was grateful. Grateful and nervous.Smoothing my blazer and adjusting the strap of my bag, I took a deep breath before stepping inside. The receptionist, a young woman with a warm smile, greeted me. “You must be Isla Hart? Mark is expecting you.” I nodded, trying to steady my heartbeat. “Yes, thank you.”While waiting, I found a quiet corner and went over my resume once

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