Reclaiming the Love We Lost のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

The grand ballroom of the Wolfe Grand Hotel glittered like a cage made of gold and diamonds. Ten-foot floral arches dripped with white roses and orchids, their heavy perfume cloying the air. A thousand crystal chandeliers cast fractured light across five hundred guests who clapped and cheered as if this were a fairy tale instead of a transaction. Adrian Wolfe stood rigid at the altar, his custom black tuxedo tailored to perfection, yet it felt like a straitjacket. His gray eyes were empty, staring straight ahead as Vanessa Sinclair glided down the aisle like a predator in a gown worth more than most people’s lifetimes. The white lace hugged every curve she had padded for the cameras, her smile radiant for the flashing bulbs. But inside… something twisted. Because for a split second he saw another woman walking toward him. Not Vanessa. Lydia. Barefoot in their kitchen. Laughing. Soft. Real. Gone. “Adrian.” The priest’s voice snapped him back. Reality slammed into place. Vane

Adrian stood there like a man caught between two realities—one he had already lost and one standing right in front of him, asking to be believed. Vanessa’s hand was warm as she guided his, slow and deliberate, until his palm rested against her stomach. The silence stretched. Like something was about to snap. Adrian’s fingers didn’t press. Didn’t respond. They just… stayed there. “You don’t have to love me,” Vanessa said. “Just don’t leave me.” Adrian’s jaw ticked. His eyes dropped to where his hand rested on her. Nothing. No instinct. No connection. Just a fact being presented to him. And something about it didn’t sit right. Slowly… he pulled his hand away. Vanessa froze. Adrian stepped back half a pace, running a hand through his hair as he exhaled roughly. “No,” he said. Vanessa’s brows drew together slightly. “No?” Adrian looked at her now—really looked. “Don’t do that,” he continued. “Don’t reduce this into something simple.” Her lips parted, but he didn’t give her time

Lydia lay on the narrow bed, eight months pregnant, her body caught in the violent rhythm of labor. Every ninety seconds, another contraction tore through her—deeper, harder, like her bones were being forced apart from the inside.Sweat clung to her skin. Her fingers gripped the rails until her knuckles blanched. Still she didn’t scream. She breathed. In. Out. Slow. Controlled. The way she had practiced.“No epidural?” the nurse asked again, hesitant.Lydia shook her head. “No.”“You’re sure? We can help—”“I said no.” Her voice wasn’t loud didn’t leave room for argument.She refused the numbness. Refused the weakness. Refused to blur this into something easier. If she was going to bring this child into the world she would feel every second of it.Another contraction hit. Harder. Brutal.Lydia’s body tensed, a sharp breath catching in her throat as pain ripped through her spine and wrapped around her abdomen like a vise. Her grip tightened.A low, broken sound escaped her lips, but s

Adrian pushed the door open and the world stopped.There she was.Lydia. Propped against white pillows under soft, dim light, her skin pale with exhaustion—but glowing with something stronger than it. Strands of damp hair clung to her face, her lips parted slightly as she breathed through the aftermath of pain. And in her arms... their son.Wrapped in a white hospital blanket, pressed against her bare chest, the baby stirred softly—his small chest rising and falling in quiet rhythm, dark hair still damp, one fragile fist curled near his cheek. Adrian forgot how to breathe. His body went still, then unsteady—like the ground beneath him had shifted without warning. For a second, he thought his knees might give out. That was his family. Not the penthouse. Not the empire. Not the woman wearing his name. This.This was what he had destroyed. For years, he had been untouchable. Cold. Calculated. Detached. He had turned Lydia into a problem. A variable. Something to control, to mana

Vanessa Sinclair didn’t believe in coincidence. Not in business. Not in relationships. And certainly not when it came to Adrian.So when her assistant hesitated—just a second too long—before answering her question, Vanessa already knew something was wrong. “Where is he?” she asked calmly. The kind of calm that made people nervous. The assistant swallowed. “Mr. Adrian… left the office about an hour ago.” Vanessa didn’t look up from the tablet in her hand. “And?” Her fingers stopped scrolling. “And he went to a hospital, ma’am.” Then slowly Vanessa lifted her head. “Which hospital?” The assistant mentioned the name. And just like that Vanessa’s smile disappeared. Completely. Not faded. Not weakened. Gone. “He went there?” she repeated softly. Her voice didn’t rise. But something in the air shifted. The assistant nodded, visibly uncomfortable. “Yes, ma’am. It seems urgent.”Vanessa let out a quiet breath. Not surprised. Just… confirming what she already feared. “Of course it’s u