"Can I see your room, Mario?" Nina asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.


    Mario nodded. "Sure."


    Carol smiled at the two of them. "Come on, I''ll take you upstairs."


    Hand in hand, Mario and Nina followed Carol up the staircase, giggling softly as they went.


    Briony picked up the clothes she''d brought and was about to head after them when Lorna''s voice stopped her.


    "Ms. Kensington, could we have a word?"


    Briony paused, turning to look at Lorna.


    "Ms. Kensington, Mario is a bright, thoughtful child. I hope you won''t let your own possessiveness hold him back from growing up the way he should."


    A cool, measured smile flickered on Briony''s lips. "If we''re talking about possessiveness, Ms. Riley, you seem far more invested than I am."


    Lorna''s brow furrowed.


    "I''ve already made everything clear to Stewart," Briony continued, her tone even. "If you think I''m out of line, take it up with him. From now on, Ms. Riley, you don''t need to pretend we''re getting along for appearances. I have no interest in your man, and you don''t need to try and take my son."


    With that, Briony turned away and started up the stairs, ignoring Lorna''s tight- lipped silence.


    Upstairs,ughter and yful shrieks drifted from the children''s bedroom next to the master suite.


    Stewart stood by the open door, watching his two children with a gentle gaze. Nina bounced on Mario''s little bed. "Do you sleep here all by yourself at night?" Mario sat cross-legged, his face serious. "Yes."


    "Who reads you bedtime stories, then?"


    "Dad does."


    Nina stopped mid-bounce, surprised. She crawled over and peered at him. "But your dad''s so serious all the time. Are his stories any good? Isn''t his voice too stiff? How do you fall asleep?"


    Mario blinked, his expression earnest. "Dad has a nice voice."


    "Huh?" Nina scrunched up her nose, trying to imagine Stewart reading a story, but she just couldn''t picture it.


    Her face fell, and her lips pouted. "I never had a dad. Not even when I was born."


    Mario looked at her, sensing her sadness. “I didn''t have a mom when I was born, either."


    Nina thought about it and sighed. "I guess you''ve got it a little worse. Grown-ups always say kids without a mom don''t get to drink real milk! Maybe that''s why you''re smaller than me."


    "I did have milk!" Mario insisted, frowning.


    "Yeah, but you drank cow''s milk,” Nina argued. "I had my mom''s milk! So really, you''re the one who''s worse off."


    Mario was left speechless.


    Briony paused outside the door, overhearing her daughter''s words, stifling augh mixed with exasperation. Where did Nina even pick this stuff up?


    Stewart nced at her out of the corner of his eye and stepped aside to let her in.


    Briony spoke calmly. "I''d like to take Mario with me today. I''ll bring him back Sunday evening."


    Their eyes met.


    Stewart nced at the shopping bags in her hands. "Those for him?"


    She nodded. "Yes." Thinking of the toys inside, she added, "I''ll leave the toys here. If you throw them out, I''ll just buy more."


    Stewart pressed his lips together, almost sighing. "He hardly has time to y with them anyway."


    There didn''t seem to be much point in continuing this conversation. Their perspectives had never really aligned-certainly not before the divorce, and even less so now.


    "Stewart," Briony said, her voice steady, "I just want Mario to know, in my own way, that wherever he is, his mom will always love him."


    Stewart was taken aback, his dark eyes fixed on her.


    They stood there in a quiet, unspoken understanding-perhaps for the first time.


    Briony couldn''t quite exin it. It was as if she''d weathered a storm, recovered from an illness, or woken long, restless dream.


    fdenly, everything felt lighter.


    If the divorce had been her long-awaited escape, then standing here now in the house she''d once poured her heart into, facing the man with whom she''d spent nine years of her life-she finally felt able to talk to him with genuine peace.


    The joyful shouts of their children echoed through the room.


    All those old hurts, the bitterness, the lingering regrets-they no longer seemed to


    matter.


    Because now, atst, she knew what she wanted to do next.


    She wasn''t anxious or stubborn anymore-not because of anyone else''s change,


    but because she herself had changed.


    ...


    Briony left Southcreek Manor with both children.


    Stewart stood at the window of his study, watching as her car disappeared down the winding drive.