-HUNTER POV-
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The drive back from that goddamn lunch was silent, except for the hum of the engine and the ache pulsing behind my temple. I still felt my mother’s perfume clinging to me, that nauseating scent of manipulation and entitlement. I had almost wrapped my hands around her neck…..and for a second, I wanted to. I wanted to squeeze every ounce of toxin out of her body.
Vincent had been right to drag me out of there before the cameras caught something they could turn into headlines.
Now, as I pulled into the mansion driveway, the gates slid open like they always did……smooth, obedient….everything my mother had never been.
The weight on my chest loosened a little when I saw the lights glowing in the living room. Celine always left them on for me, as if she knew I’d come home carrying the world’s anger on my shoulders.
I grabbed the bouquet from the passenger seat….white tulips, her favorite….and a box of dark chocolate. It was ridiculous, how much I wanted to see her face soften, to see her smile.
When I walked in, I heard laughter first. The sound bounced off the kitchen tiles……light, unguarded, ‘the kind of joy I didn’t deserve but would kill to keep.
Celine stood by the counter, her short bob catching the glow from the pendant lights, one hand holding a glass of juice while the other pointed accusingly at Caesar, who was already mid–story.
Our son saw me first. “Papa!” he shouted, running with his usual half–wobbly sprint. His arms wrapped around my legs and I dropped the chocolate box on the counter just in time to catch him.
“What did I miss?” I asked, brushing my fingers through his curls.
Celine turned, her eyes bright. “Caesar was just telling me about how he made a new friend….Sultan….but apparently, they already had a fight over a crayon box.”
“I didn’t fight!” Caesar protested, glaring up at her with exaggerated innocence. “I just told him the red was mine.”
I chuckled, setting him down. “Possessive, just like his mother.”
Celine rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Says the man who growled at a waiter for smiling at me.”
“That waiter was flirting,” I reminded her, walking closer, the tulips hidden behind my back.
She raised a brow, amused. “And you’re delusional.”
I handed her the flowers. “Maybe. But at least I’m consistent.”
Her laughter came easily then, that soft melody that had a way of unknotting the tension inside me. “They’re beautiful,” she said, leaning in to kiss me. It was a quick, warm kiss – but the kind that grounded me. “Thank you.”
“For you.” I said simply.
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Dinner was light……pasta, Caesar’s favorite. He kept talking, and I let him, grateful for the distraction from the day I’d had. When Celine tucked him in later, I stood by the door, watching her stroke his hair and whisper something that made him giggle in his half–sleep.
When she came out, she found me leaning against the wall, hands in my pockets.
“What?” she asked, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.
“Nothing,” I said, pushing off the wall. “Just wondering what kind of woman I married to make my kid laugh in his sleep.”
“The best kind,” she said proudly.
I caught her hand as she walked past me. “That, you are.” ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ fındnovel.net
She tilted her head. “You sound tired. Bad day?”
I exhaled. “Let’s just say my mother found a new way to piss me off.”
Celine’s brow furrowed. “What did she do this time?”
“She tried setting me up with a senator’s daughter. At lunch. Right in front of me.”
Celine blinked, then laughed, that small, disbelieving laugh that somehow disarmed me. “Oh, Hunter,” she murmured. “You can’t be serious.”
“I nearly strangled her.”
“I’m sure she deserved it,” she said softly, touching my arm. “But I’m glad you didn’t. Jail doesn’t suit you.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, leaning in. “Orange might bring out my eyes.”
Her smile deepened. “Maybe. But I prefer you in black.”
Her fingers stayed, tracing lazy circles on my wrist. The air clotted between us, that quiet pull neither of us needed to name. Then her voice broke it gently. “I met someone today.”
That got my attention. “Who?”
“An old neighbor. Mrs. Landon. She told me… my mother’s funeral is tomorrow.”
I went still.
Celine’s tone stayed calm, but her eyes had gone distant, guarded. “I want to go.”
“That’s a terrible idea,” I said immediately. “If your sister’s there…..”
“She will be,” she cut in. “But I need to do this, Hunter. I missed my father’s funeral because I was too busy ‘surviving. I can’t… not this time. I need to say goodbye…not to forgive her, but to close it.”
I dragged a hand through my hair. “You know I can’t let you walk into that alone.”
“I wasn’t asking permission,” she said softly. “Just letting you know.”
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Her quiet stubbornness made me smile despite myself. “You’ve gotten bold.”
“Blame you. You created this monster.”
I stepped closer, my hands finding her waist. “Then I’ll deal with what I created.
She laughed, but when she saw my face, her smile softened. “You’re serious.”
“I am,” I murmured. “You’re not going there without me. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, they’ll regret it.”
“Hunter……”
“I mean it,” I said, voice low. “Jesse, her boyfriend, her friends – anyone. I’ll burn that place to the ground before I let them hurt you again.”
Her hand rose to my cheek. “You’re too hot–tempered today. What really happened at work?”
I sighed, resting my forehead against hers. “Just a bad day. But it’s over now.” Her scent……paint and lavender shampoo……filled the air, calming the monster inside me.
“So…” she whispered, smiling against my lips, “we’re going to the funeral, right?”
I groaned quietly into her neck. “You really don’t know when to stop winning.”
“I learned from the best,” she teased.
“Remind me to start saying no to you sometimes,” I murmured, and she only grinned, brushing her lips over mine again. “Tomorrow, we go. Together.”
{The Next Day}
The morning air was cool and made you feel a little cold.
Celine stood in front of the mirror, fixing her black dress. It was simple but nice, made of soft silk that reached just below her knees. Her short hair framed her face well, with light makeup, diamond earrings, and a thin silver bracelet I had bought for her last month.
She looked both graceful and strong.
I wore a dark jacket with an open collar, nothing showy. Just what I needed to feel ready. The guards walked behind us as we left. People at the church looked our way….whispering and taking pictures, as if we were a show instead of people in mourning.
Celine held her chin high. I stayed a step behind her, eyes scanning the crowd, ready for anything.
Jesse found us first. She looked worse than I remembered….pale, swollen from pregnancy, bitterness etched
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into every line of her face. Her boyfriend….or whatever he was…….stayed beside her, tattoos crawling up his neck. noveldrama
“What are you doing here?” she spat.
Celine didn’t flinch. “Paying my respects. Whatever she was, she fed me, clothed me. That counts for something.”
“Don’t pretend you cared,” Jesse hissed.
I stepped forward, voice cold. “Watch it.”
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Jesse’s man shifted, but one glare from me froze him in place. There’s a kind of silence that only comes when people realize they’re standing too close to danger…that’s the one that followed.
Celine placed a hand on my arm. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “Let’s just go inside.”
Inside the church, whispers followed us like shadows. Celine’s back stayed straight. I could tell it cost her everything to walk down that aisle, but she did it anyway. Caesar stood between us, his small hand in hers. When the priest started speaking, I watched her face……no tears, just a quiet kind of release.
At the cemetery, she handed Caesar a white rose. “Throw it gently, okay?”
He looked up. “Mama, who died?”
Celine smiled faintly. “A woman I once looked up to… but now, just a memory I need to let go.” He nodded, solemn in his little black jacket, and dropped the rose into the grave.
My phone buzzed. Vincent.
“Are you at a funeral?” his voice came through, lazy amusement dripping from every word.
“Don’t start.”
“Man, you really need a break. The whole ‘dark protector‘ thing is aging you.”
“Goodbye, Vincent.”
“Tell Celine she married a paranoid lunatic,” he added before I hung up.
When I looked back, Celine was talking to an elderly woman…one of her old family friends I presume. Her expression was calm but distant, that bittersweet grace of someone finally untangling from the past.
I walked over, placing a hand on the small of her back. “You okay?”
She nodded, eyes drifting toward Jesse across the crowd. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”
I followed her gaze. Jesse stood stiffly, one hand on her stomach, eyes full of resentment and fear. When she noticed me watching, she quickly looked away.
“She will,” I said. “She’s not your responsibility.”
“I know,” Celine murmured. “Old habits die hard,”
I brushed my thumb over her jaw and kissed her temple. “Let’s go home.”
She breathed out, leaning into me. “Home sounds good.”
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I took her hand, guiding her toward the car as the murmurs followed- ‘Hunter Reid and his wife, the whispers of the world that didn’t know half the story.
She glanced up at me, that small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. And as I opened the car door for her, I thought: ‘this is what peace looks like….not silence, but survival‘
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