On Friday night, the house was already blanketed in silence by the time Luc finally returned. The deep shadows that clung to the walls mirrored the weight he carried as he moved through the quiet corridors, his footsteps barely a whisper on the polished floors. When he reached Nico’s room, the soft glow of the nightlight painted the room in a gentle amber hue, casting delicate shadows across the small bed where his son slept peacefully.
Luc paused at the doorway, his tall frame tense as he took in the sight of Nico’s innocent face, so serene, so untouched by the world’s complications. For a long time, he stood there, unable to move, as if tethered to that moment, watching the steady rise and fall of his son’s chest. His heart constricted, emotions warring within him that he couldn’t fully grasp–love, guilt, regret, and something else that he
couldn’t quite name. Finally, with a quiet exhale, he crossed the room and sat down beside the bed.
He didn’t touch Nico. He didn’t even speak. He just sat there, his gaze tracing the outline of the boy’s tiny fingers, the soft curve of his
cheeks, and the way his dark lashes fanned against his pale skin. For what felt like an eternity, Luc simply watched, his throat tightening
with the unspoken words he knew he should say but couldn’t. How had it come to this? His son, living here, with a woman who had once
been the center of his universe, now reduced to nothing but a stranger in his life.
Amber had left them alone. He felt her absence like a chill in the room. She used to hover, always on guard when he was around Nico, as
if expecting him to vanish with their son the moment she looked away. But tonight, she was nowhere near. That stung in ways he hadn’t
expected.
Finally, he rose, his heart heavy. But instead of leaving, his feet carried him to Amber’s room, drawn by a need he didn’t fully understand. He knocked, the sound heavy in the stillness of the night. There was no hesitation in the way he rapped at her door, no softness–just a
quiet demand for entry.
Amber opened the door, her face unreadable, but there was something behind her eyes–something guarded, like she had been expecting this, like she had prepared herself. She stood there, framed by the dim light filtering in from the hallway, dressed in a light, feathery white suit that clung to her body. Luc’s eyes involuntarily swept over her, and though he tried to suppress it, he couldn’t deny the rush of
memories the sight of her stirred in him.
“When do you think I should take him to the zoo tomorrow?” His voice came out low, almost gruff, as if the question itself was an intrusion into the space between them. There was no softening, no preamble, just the blunt question hanging in the air.
Amber’s lips pressed into a thin line, her composure as rigid as her tone. “He wakes up at six,” she replied, her voice carefully controlled. “Give him an hour to get ready and have breakfast, and then he’s all yours.”
For a moment, Luc didn’t respond. His eyes lingered on her, taking in the way the fabric of her suit skimmed over her skin, the way her hair framed her face. He knew she could feel the weight of his gaze, could sense the tension that crackled between them. “So, you’re sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asked, his voice carrying an edge, his question laced with something more than mere curiosity.
Amber stiffened slightly but met his gaze without flinching. “No.”
There was finality in her answer, but it wasn’t enough for him. His eyes darkened, a bitter smile twisting at the corner of his lips. “Why not?” he challenged, stepping closer. “You used to shadow me like I was some kind of criminal every time I saw him in the States. What
changed? What made you suddenly trust me?”
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18:30 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 88
62
The bitterness in his voice wasn’t lost on her, and she felt it prick at her own defenses. She shrugged, though it was forced, her attempt to disarm the situation failing. “Maybe I changed. Maybe I realized I made a mistake and decided to make amends.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
