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<b>Chapter </b><b>224 </b>
-HUNTER POV-
T 50 <b>youchers </b>
The nurse had just finished signing off the discharge papers when I stood, flowers in hand, watching Celine gather herself slowly.
She looked smaller somehow, like the hospital walls had pressed her into something fragile. Even now, as she pulled on her cardigan, I couldn’t shake the image of her in that bed with monitors beeping around her.
“Ready?” I asked, my voice lower than I meant.
She nodded without speaking.
Caesar had fallen asleep on the couch in the room, his dinosaur toy tucked under his chin, his mouth the innocent way only a child’s could be.
I scooped him up carefully, settling him against my shoulder. He stirred but didn’t wake.
open
in
I carried my son with one arm and reached for the hospital bag with the other. Sally made a move to help, but I shook my head. I didn’t want anyone else touching Celine’s things.
Not today. Not ever again if I could help it.
Celine walked beside me slowly. I didn’t offer to carry her–it would insult her–but I matched her pace, step for step, in case she faltered. She didn’t.
The hallways were too bright. Too white. I hated them.
When we reached the car, I opened the door for her, set Caesar gently in the back, and buckled him in before going around to the driver’s side.
For a long moment, I sat there with the engine off, staring straight ahead, both hands on the wheel.
“Hunter,” she said softly.
I turned to her. She looked tired, yes, but her eyes held something steadier than they had all week.
“Drive,” she whispered.
So I did.
The city slipped by in silence at first. Caesar snored lightly in the back. I kept looking at Celine, then back at the road, then at her again. The hospital smell clung to her clothes, and I wanted to rip it away.
I wanted her wrapped only in things that felt like home.
But words rose in my throat, too heavy to hold back.
“I let go of every staff member who failed you,” I started. My hands tightened on the wheel. “The maids who
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took Mia’s bribes, even Ana, the guards who turned a blind eye. They won’t work in this city again. I made
sure of it.”
She turned her face toward the window, quiet.
“I’ve already started recing them. Trained, loyal, discreet. I gave Sally the authority to arrange their duties, but they know–you’re theirdy of the house. They answer to you.”
Still silence.
I pushed harder, words spilling faster now. “The ckwoods are finished. Edward’spany is crumbling, investors running. I told Vincent to buy out the profitable shares, bury them so deep they’ll never w their way back. It won’t undo what Mia did, but…….”
Her hand moved suddenly. She reached across the console and touched mine.
I froze. The engine hummed beneath us, the city lights flickering across her face. Her palm rested lightly over my hand where it gripped the gear shift.
“Hunter,” she said, her voice steady.
I looked at her, searching for anger, for the sting of old wounds. Instead, I found something else. Resolve.
“I don’t want to know,” she whispered. “Not about Mia. Not about her father. As long as I never see them again, I’m fine.”
The words cut through me. I’d expected fury, or questions, or even bitterness. Instead, she was choosing peace. Choosing us.
“I thought you’d want……” I began, but she shook her head.
“No revenge. No shadows of them in our home. I want…” She swallowed hard, her hand still over mine. “I want space to breathe again.”
For a long second, I couldn’t answer. My chest burned.
Then I flipped my hand andced our fingers together. Her grip tightened just slightly, but it was enough. More than enough.
**
***
Caesar stirred then, his voice groggy and small. “Papa?”
I nced into the rearview mirror. He rubbed his eyes, blinking at us.
“Yes, buddy?”
“Are we going home<b>?</b><b>” </b>
The word “home” struck me deeply. I met Celine’s eyes. She was smiling faintly at Caesar, but her fingers hadn’t let go of mine.
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“Yes,” I said. My throat felt thick. “We’re going home.”
The mansion gates opened as the car rolled in, the new security team stiff at their posts. I’d drilled them hard these past days–respect, silence, loyalty.
Nothing less<b>. </b>
Celine’s eyes flicked to the manicured hedges as we pulled into the driveway, as though she was trying to measure how much of this ce still belonged to her.
I wanted to tell her all of it. Every inch. Every corner.
I parked. Caesar was already wriggling free of his seatbelt, dinosaur clutched in his hand. “Home!” he shouted, jumping out the moment I opened his door.
His feet hit the gravel, and he ran toward the front steps with the wild joy only a child could summon.
Celineughed softly at him. The sound was weak, but it was real.
I came around to her side, opened her door, and offered my hand. She hesitated, then slid her fingers into mine and let me help her up. Her body leaned lightly against me for bnce, and I wanted to hold her there forever.
Inside, the staff I’d approved of stood waiting in a neat line…four housemaids, a butler, and a cook. Their faces were calm, their posture deferential.
Sally stood just behind them, overseeing.
“Wee home, Mrs. Reid,” the butler said, bowing slightly.
Celine blinked, caught off guard. She looked at me.
I squeezed her hand. “You heard him,” I said. “This is your house. Always was.”
Her lips parted, but no sound came. She just nodded and allowed me to guide her past them.
The living room glowed with softmplight. I’d had flowers brought in–fresh arrangements of her favorites, white lilies and pale pink roses. Their scent filled the space.
Celine stopped just inside the doorway, her gaze sweeping over the room, thennding on Caesar, who was sprawled across the carpet, dinosaur toy stomping loudly against the coffee table.
She sank slowly onto the sofa, watching him, her hand lifting unconsciously to her stomach before she caught herself and lowered it. My chest twisted.
I knelt in front of her, still holding her hand.
“Strange to be home again?” I asked quietly.
Her eyes softened. “Yes.” A pause. “But good.”
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of us.
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I swallowed. “I lost our baby because of Mia. Because she was in our home. Because you……” My voice broke. “…..you didn’t see it. You didn’t protect us.”
The silence after was louder than any scream.
Hunter’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t look away. “And you think I don’t carry that every second of the day?” His voice rose, raw.
“You think I don’t rey it, wondering what if I’d thrown create boundaries, what if I’d guarded you better, what if I hadn’t been so fucking blind?”
The curse jolted me. His hand was clenched on his knee, his knuckles bone–white.
“You were blind,” I spat, before I could stop myself. “She walked into our bedroom. Our bedroom, Hunter. How do you think that felt? To see her there, to see her smirk and talk down to me like I was nothing?<b>” </b>
His head dropped forward, like the words physically struck him. Then he looked up, eyes ssy with something fierce.
“I told you…..” His voice cracked. “I told you she meant nothing. That you were everything. But you never believed me.”
“Because she was always there!” I snapped. My chest was heaving now, my palms damp. “Always in your shadow, always in the corners of your world. Do you know what that does to someone? To feel like you’re just… a ceholder while everyone waits for the real woman to step in?”
Hunter flinched, like I’d pped him.
“You think you’re a ceholder?” His voice dropped low, trembling with fury and pain. “Celine, I built this entire goddamn life around you. I tore apartpanies, burned bridges, cut my own mother out…..because of you. And you still sit here and say you’re nothing?”
My vision blurred. I hated the tears rising. “Then why wasn’t it enough? Why wasn’t I enough to keep safe?”
Thest words ripped out of me, torn from a ce deeper than anger. They were grief dressed in rage.
Hunter shut his eyes, pressing his fingers hard into his temples. His chest rose and fell too fast. For a long time, he didn’t speak. Then, in a voice that was almost a whisper:
“Because I failed you.”
Something in my stomach twisted. Hearing him say it–not defensively, not in anger, but as a confession- should have satisfied me.
Instead, it made the air heavier.
Dr. Maxwell finally leaned back, his eyes calm but sharp. “What I hear,” he said, “is two people drowning in me. One pointing outward, one inward. But me doesn’t keep you afloat. It pulls you both under.”
Neither of us spoke.
Hunter’s hand shifted slightly on his knee, like he wanted to reach for me. He didn’t.
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Dr. Maxwell let the silence stretch before continuing. “I’m not asking either of you to forgive yet. Or forget. That’s not the work of today. The work is honesty. You’ve said what you’re holding. Now sit with it. Sit with the ugliness. Sit with how much it hurts.”
I clenched my fists in myp. The room was too warm, the air too stuffy. Every second beside Hunter felt painful and necessary all at once. <fne1c5> ?????? ???? Find~Novel</fne1c5>
Finally, Dr. Maxwell stood, not dramatically, just enough to signal. “That’s enough for today. Next time, we’ll start with the grief under the anger. But for now–leave here knowing you told the truth. That’s more than most couples manage.”
Hunter didn’t move. Neither did I.
When the session ended, he rose first, offering me his hand automatically, like habit. I stared at it, trembling. Then, slowly, I ced mine in his.
We walked out together, silent, but still tethered.