Chapter 17
The staff moved fast. One suitcase after another was tossed out the front door.
Sophia’s designer bags, jewelry, and high–end makeup scattered across the pavement like worthless trash.
“You’ll regret this!” she shrieked from the porch. “You think Emily will take you back? She’s done with you!”
The front door slammed in her face, cutting off her tirade.
Inside, the silence was deafening.
Ethan slowly knelt down and wrapped his arms around the children.
Both were shaking, tears soaking through his shirt.
“Daddy…” Lily hiccuped. “Does Mommy really not want us anymore?”
Ethan felt like something inside him was being torn apart.
He remembered the look on Emily’s face when she walked away. That cold finality. The divorce papers. His own signature. That knot in his chest twisted tighter.
“No,” he whispered, mostly to himself. “She loves you. So much. She’d never want to leave you. She’s probably just taking some time to clear her mind.”
“Then why hasn’t she come back?” Lucas’s voice was barely a whisper. “Is it because… we pushed her?”
Ethan couldn’t smile. He could barely breathe.
He wiped the tears from Lucas’s face and said, “Daddy will bring her back.”
Once the kids were brought upstairs by the staff, Ethan collapsed onto the couch.
He pulled out his phone and called his assistant.
“Find Emily. Immediately.”
When the call ended, his gaze drifted to the family photo above the fireplace.
It was taken three years ago. Emily stood at the edge, her smile strained and forced.
And back then, he hadn’t even spared her a glance–didn’t notice her smile was strained, or that she was already pulling away.
Had he ever truly seen her? Or had he been too wrapped up in Sophia, in work, in himself?
Maybe it was his years of neglect that made her give up for good.
“Sir?” the house manager’s voice broke his thoughts. “Dinner’s ready. Should I bring the kids down?”
Ethan nodded slowly. “I’ll eat with them tonight.”
At the dinner table, Lucas and Lily picked at their food, quiet and subdued. The cheerful bickering that used to echo through the halls was gone.
Maybe it was because they hadn’t been properly cared for in a while.
Once round–faced and full of energy, both kids now looked thin–too thin. Their little chins had turned sharp.
“Daddy,” Lily said softly. Her voice had none of its usual defiance.
“I miss Mommy. Where did she go? Why hasn’t she come back?”
Lucas lifted his head too. “When you find her… will she forgive us?”
Ethan froze, his hand halfway to his cup. He didn’t know the answer. And that scared him.
But then he thought of Emily–how tirelessly she’d cared for them, how selfless she’d been for years.
He looked at them and finally nodded.
“No matter what… she’s still your mother. She used to love you both more than anything. I believe she’ll forgive you.”
That night, long after the house went quiet, Ethan stood alone in his study, replaying surveillance footage from the past six months.
In clip after clip, Emily moved quietly through the house–doing laundry, cleaning, helping with homework.
Chapter 17
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She didn’t smile much. But whenever the kids needed her, she was there in an instant.
Then came that day.
The day she was pushed down the stairs.
And he… hadn’t even looked back.
Ethan shut the video off, a dull ache squeezing his chest.
He had to find her.
And when he did–he’d never let her go again.
Chapter 18
Ethan stood at the floor–to–ceiling window of his study, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the mahogany desk. Scattered across the polished surface were photos just delivered by his assistant. Each one felt like a blade, slicing into his chest.
“You’re sure it’s her?” His voice was low, dangerously steady.
“Without a doubt,” the assistant replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “Mrs. Caldwell opened a bookstore in Willow Creek. Business is doing well. These
were taken last week.”
In the photo, Emily stood outside a storefront named Second Light Books, sunlight filtering through the plane trees and dappled across her linen dress. Her hair was shorter than before. She leaned down, speaking to a little girl no older than five.
There it was again–that gentle warmth in her eyes, the softness Ethan hadn’t seen in months.
But what made his stomach twist was the man beside her- tall, refined, wearing gold–rimmed glasses. His arm cradled the little girl, his gaze resting on Emily with a quiet tenderness that infuriated Ethan.
“Who is the man?” Ethan asked, his thumb pressing against the man’s image, smudging it.
“Nathan Brooks, sir. He was her college senior. The girl is his niece–his late sister’s daughter. They weren’t close in school, but apparently, they ran into each other in Willow Creek. Mrs. Caldwell seems to like the girl a lot. They’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
“Enough,” Ethan cut him off, chest tightening with a strange, bitter ache.
How dare she? How dare she look at another man like that–like she used to look at him?
The study door burst open.
Lily and Lucas came running in barefoot, tear streaks still on their cheeks.
“Daddy!” Lily wrapped her arms around his leg. “Mrs. Carson said you found Mommy! Is it true?”
Ethan scooped her up, his eyes flickering back to the photo of Emily smiling–smiling at someone else’s child. Lily’s radiant smile stung; in three months, Emily hadn’t reached out to their kids even once.
“Can we go see her?” Lucas tugged at his blazer. “We miss Mommy so much.”
Their voices carved him open, slow and deep.
Ethan stared again at that picture–perfect scene—the three of them looking like a family.
He let out a short, cold laugh.
“Prep the jet,” he told his assistant, gently wiping away Lily’s tears. “We’re bringing your mother home.”
No way in hell did he believe she could love another man. Not after everything. Not after six years of putting up with his coldness.
If he showed up in person, with the kids–she’d come back. She always did. Emily never had the heart to see them hurt.
Meanwhile, at Mud & Flame Ceramics Studio in Willow Creek, Emily was hunched over a spinning wheel, fingers shaping a lump of clay.
Ava’s tiny face smudged with clay streaks, leaned over the adjacent table. “Look, Emily! I made a bunny!”
Emily grinned, reaching over to dab a bit of clay on Ava’s nose. “A bunny? Looks more like it needs a round little nose, don’t you think?”
Ava giggled and retaliated with her own handful of clay. Laughter filled the cozy studio.
Nathan appeared with a tray of steaming tea, a splash of mud on his glasses. “You two treating this place like a battlefield now?”
Sunlight poured through the skylight as he reached for a handkerchief and gently wiped a smear off Emily’s cheek. His fingers lingered just a beat too long. Their eyes met. He flushed, stepping back quickly.
Ava beamed at them, then blinked her big eyes at Emily. “Emily, I’m really happy. I wish I could stay with you and Uncle forever.”
Emily’s breath caught. Her gaze drifted to Nathan–his soft expression held something fragile, something hopeful.
But her heart pulled elsewhere. Images of Lucas and Lily–those same children who once pushed her down the stairs–flashed before her eyes.
She said nothing.
Nathan noticed the shift in her eyes and, with quiet grace, nudged a small bowl he had shaped toward Ava. “Here, sweetheart. Like it?”
It worked – Ava was instantly distracted.
Chapter 18
