Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 31 - Chapitre 40

Three weeks was not a long time. At least that was what Aira kept telling herself. Three weeks was nothing in the grand scale of things. Projects she worked on lasted years. Research trials stretched even longer. People rebuilt entire lives in less time than that. So three weeks shouldn’t matter. And yet it did. The afternoon sun poured through the tall windows of the research center in Oakland, casting long rectangles of light across the conference table. Aira stood at the head of it, one hand resting lightly on her laptop as she spoke, the soft click of slides changing every few seconds. “…and if we extend follow-up visits beyond the standard six weeks, we’ll catch nearly thirty percent more postpartum complications,” she explained. “Especially in communities where access to care is inconsistent.” Around the table, the other researchers listened closely, some nodding as they jotted notes. Aira kept her tone steady and professional, the way she always did when present

Aira didn’t think about Lucien. At least, that was the lie she told herself most often. Life had been too full lately for unnecessary memories. Her work alone could swallow entire days. The maternal health initiative she had joined in California had expanded rapidly over the past year, pulling her into field visits, data analysis, community meetings, and policy discussions that stretched late into the night. She liked it that way. Work gave her structure. Purpose. Distance. The research center buzzed with activity that afternoon as Aira reviewed reports in her office. A soft knock sounded on the doorframe. “Still buried in statistics?” Adrian asked. She glanced up from her laptop. “You say that like statistics are boring.” “They are.” “They’re not.” He stepped inside anyway, holding two coffee cups. “I brought a peace offering.” Aira took the cup from him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to take a break.” “I’m encouraging work-life bala

The apartment smelled like strawberries.Sweet. Light. Familiar.Aira stood in the small kitchen, slicing them carefully on a wooden board while soft morning light filtered through the window. The sun always hit this part of the apartment first, warming the counter, catching the edges of glass jars, making everything feel calmer than it actually was.It was one of the few quiet moments she allowed herself.Before the day began.Before responsibilities returned.Before the world asked anything of her.She exhaled softly, steadying into the rhythm of something simple.Then—Small footsteps.Soft. Uncoordinated. Determined.“Mama.”Aira turned immediately, the shift in her expression instinctive.“There you are.”Zayn stood at the edge of the hallway, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, his hair a soft, tangled mess from sleep. His shirt was slightly twisted, one sleeve slipping down his shoulder, and for a second he just stood there, blinking like he was still halfway inside a d

The airplane cabin was dim and quiet. Most of the passengers had already fallen asleep, their seats tilted back as the overnight flight continued its steady path across the dark sky. Lucien Carter remained awake. He sat by the window, one arm resting against the armrest as he stared at the darkness outside. From this height the world below was invisible, hidden beneath layers of clouds and night. Normally he slept easily during flights. Tonight, sleep refused to come. His mind kept replaying the same image. Aira standing outside the apartment building. Sunlight in her hair. A small boy running into her arms. And Adrian standing beside them, lifting the child with the easy familiarity of someone who had done it many times before. Lucien closed his eyes briefly. The image refused to disappear. He had flown all the way to California without truly knowing what he expected to find. Perhaps a conversation. Perhaps answers. Instead, he had received something

Morning came quietly to Lucien Carter’s penthouse. Soft sunlight slipped through the tall glass windows, spreading slowly across the polished wooden floor. The city below had already begun its usual rhythm—cars moving through intersections, distant horns, the steady pulse of life in New York. Inside the apartment, everything remained still. Lucien woke slowly. For a few seconds he didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above him while fragments of the previous night drifted through his mind like pieces of a dream. California. Aira. The look on her face when she stood beside Adrian. The quiet warmth of the whiskey burning down his throat afterward. Then Selene. Lucien exhaled slowly, the breath leaving his chest heavier than he expected. He turned his head slightly. Selene lay asleep beside him. Her hair was spread loosely across the pillow, dark strands framing her face. The sheet had slipped down one shoulder, revealing smooth skin illuminated