Stella’s heart ached with a familiar pang of longing. Theo was needed at the mansion, leaving her alone with the echoing silence of their empty home.
The drive in Theo’s car felt strangely impersonal, the familiar scent of leather and old wood a poor substitute for her son’s presence. Pulling into the garage, she felt the weight of her solitude settle even heavier.
Flora slept soundly on the living room couch, her small form a poignant reminder of the warmth Stella craved.
Upstairs, Bryce lay asleep in his bed, his small chest rising and falling with the rhythm of his slumber.
“He’s exhausted from playing,” she whispered, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips.
The quiet exhaustion of motherhood settled over her. She changed in the bathroom, the cool tile a stark contrast to the warmth she desperately sought.
Returning to the living room, Flora startled awake. “I thought someone broke in,” She said, her eyes wide with sleepiness as she combed her hair.
Stella couldn’t help but tease, “Oh, are you going to protect my precious child?”
Flora rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Of course,” she replied, “I’d protect Bryce. I know what you’d do to me if I didn’t.”
“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Stella said, the words a quiet promise as she settled onto the couch beside Flora.
Flora’s hand rested lightly on Stella’s arm, a silent affirmation of their unwavering loyalty. “I’d let them kill me before you could end my life,” She said, her voice low and serious, a stark contrast to the lightheartedness of their previous banter.
A shared smile, filled with years of unspoken understanding, passed between them. The silence that followed was comfortable, a testament to their deep connection.
Flora broke the comfortable silence, her voice a gentle nudge back to the present. “So, what happened earlier? You seemed… different.”
Stella took a deep breath, the weight of her revelation settling heavily on her chest. She looked at Flora, her best friend, her confidante, the one person she could truly be herself with. “I’m getting married,” she confessed, the words hanging in the air, fragile yet resolute.
Flora’s hand tightened on her arm, a silent gesture of support. “Are you ready?” She asked, her voice soft but firm, her eyes searching Stella’s for any hint of doubt.
Stella nodded, a single, decisive movement that spoke volumes about the strength of her decision. “I’ve made up my mind,” She said, her voice firm despite the tremor of uncertainty that still lingered. “I want Theo. I want him as my husband.”
A genuine smile finally broke across Flora’s face, a smile that held both relief and a hint of wistful understanding. “Finally,” She said, her voice soft, “you’re choosing to settle down.” She opened her arms, and Stella embraced her, the warmth of the hug a comfort against the weight of her decision.
Stella whispered into Flora’s hair, “I hope you find your own happiness soon.”
Flora pulled back, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Nah, we’ve got plenty of time to figure things out,” she said, her laughter echoing in the room. The lightness of her tone was a stark contrast to the seriousness of Stella’s declaration.
Stella’s brow furrowed. “Why?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Flora’s smile faltered. “He’s not ready,” she admitted, the words hanging heavy in the air.
A palpable tension settled over them, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken complexities of their lives.
Stella’s attempt at consolation felt clumsy. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she offered, patting Flora’s shoulder awkwardly.
Flora brushed her hand away. “Don’t pity me,” she snapped, her voice tight with unshed tears.
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken emotions, a stark contrast to their usual easy camaraderie.
Flora’s frustration bubbled over. “Hey! Stop,” she pleaded, her voice cracking.
Stella shook her head, her own eyes welling up. “I want to hug you,” She whispered, the words choked with emotion.
Tears streamed down Flora’s face, a release of pent-up feelings.
Their shared grief continued until the sound of small footsteps broke the silence.
Bryce stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with concern. “Mom, why are you crying?” he asked, his voice small and worried.
Stella quickly wiped her tears, forcing a smile. “Oh, something got in my eye, sweetie,” she said, scooping him into a hug, the warmth of his small body a fragile comfort against the storm of emotions that still raged within her.
Bryce’s innocent question cut through the heavy silence. “Why are you crying, Aunt Flora?” he asked, his small hand reaching out to touch Flora’s arm.
Flora’s shoulders shook with renewed sobs. “I’m just sad,” she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears, her gaze fixed on Stella, whose own eyes were brimming.
The shared grief threatened to overwhelm them both. Then, the jarring sound of the front door opening sliced through the emotional intensity.
Theo stood in the doorway, his face etched with concern as he took in the scene before him. “What happened?” he asked, his voice laced with alarm.
Stella’s voice was strained, “Get Bryce, please.”
Theo gently scooped Bryce into his arms, the child’s small body a fragile counterpoint to the emotional turmoil unfolding.
Stella stood, her hand finding Flora’s, a silent gesture of support.
They moved outside, the cool night air a slight reprieve from the suffocating intensity of their shared sorrow. Their tears flowed freely, a torrent of unspoken anxieties and shared burdens.
The sudden appearance of Tyros shattered the fragile intimacy of their grief. “What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice cutting through the night.
Flora and Stella quickly composed themselves, wiping their tears and forcing smiles.
“Nothing,” Flora said, her voice tight with forced cheerfulness.
Tyros, however, was not easily fooled. He approached them, his gaze lingering on Flora’s still-reddened eyes. “You were crying,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.
Flora stubbornly averted her gaze. “I wasn’t,” she insisted, her denial a thin veil over her obvious distress.
Stella, unable to bear the strained silence any longer, intervened. “Please, get her,” she said, gently pushing Flora toward Tyros.
Tyros nodded, his hand reaching for Flora’s.
Flora recoiled slightly, her voice sharp, “Don’t touch me!”
But her resistance was weak, and Tyros’s hand remained firm. He leaned down, his voice soft, “Are you okay?”
Flora nodded, a single, almost imperceptible movement, her body still trembling with the remnants of her unshed tears.
They slid into the car, the plush leather cool against their skin.
Tyros turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life.
Flora fastened her seatbelt, her gaze fixed on Tyros. “Drive me home,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands.
Tyros’ hand rested lightly on the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “Let’s talk first,” he said, his voice low and serious.
Flora shook her head, her refusal a silent testament to her exhaustion.
“Why?” Tyros persisted, his voice gentle but insistent. “I just want to know why you were crying,” he explained, his words a plea for understanding.
Flora took a deep breath, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Fine,” she conceded, “let’s talk.”
Tyros pulled away from the curb, the city lights blurring into streaks of color as he drove. He chose a restaurant, its warm glow beckoning them from the darkness.
Flora’s brow furrowed as she looked around. “Why here?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Tyros simply smiled, a cryptic expression that only deepened her unease.
Inside, a waiter led them to a table, the soft murmur of conversation a gentle contrast to the silence that had settled between them. “This is your reserved table, sir,” the waiter announced, his words a formal interruption to their unspoken tension.
Tyros thanked him, his eyes never leaving Flora’s. He pulled out her chair, a small gesture of courtesy that felt strangely out of place given the charged atmosphere.
Flora stared at him, surprised by the unexpected chivalry. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
Tyros’ smile was enigmatic. “You don’t like it?” he asked, his tone playful, yet the underlying tension remained.
The waiter presented the menus, and Tyros efficiently placed their order, his movements precise and efficient.
The silence returned, heavy and expectant.
Flora broke it, her voice tinged with frustration. “What are we doing here?” she asked, her gaze unwavering.
Tyros’ eyes met hers for a fleeting moment before drifting to something beyond her, a distant point in the room. “We’re eating,” he replied, his words clipped and formal.
Flora noticed his distraction. “Where are you looking?” she asked, her voice sharp with concern.
Tyros’ smile was strained. “Nothing,” he said, his eyes finally returning to hers, but the unspoken tension remained, a silent barrier between them.
Flora’s gaze lingered on Tyros’ back, “Why are you always smiling?” she finally asked, her voice laced with curiosity.
Tyros turned, his eyes twinkling. “Because I’m happy,” he replied, his voice a low hum against the background murmur of the restaurant.
Their meal arrived, a welcome distraction from the unspoken tension between them.
Tyros paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. His eyes were fixed on Flora, a silent intensity that made her uneasy. “Okay, this is making me uncomfortable,” he said, his voice serious.
“What is it? Tell me.” Flora’s defenses crumbled under his persistent gaze. She gave up, her shoulders slumping.
Just then, a band began to play, their music filling the restaurant with a lively melody.
Flora’s attention was momentarily diverted, but her unease remained.
Then, the unexpected happened.
Tyros was on one knee, a small velvet box held out before him.
Flora gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief as he opened the box, revealing a sparkling ring.
“Flora-” he began, his voice thick with emotion.
But Flora interrupted, her words tumbling over each other in a rush of surprise. “What a-are you do-doing?”
Tyros shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and amusement in his eyes. He stood, his movements swift and sure, sliding the ring onto her finger. “You will marry me,” he declared, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.
Flora remained speechless, her mind struggling to process the whirlwind of emotions that had just swept over her.
Then, a familiar voice broke through her stunned silence.
Stella appeared, her family trailing behind her. “Congratulations!” she exclaimed, pulling Flora into a warm embrace. She pulled back, her eyes shining with amusement. “I knew it,” she whispered, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Flora’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “How did you know we were here?” she asked Stella, her voice laced with wonder.
Stella’s smile was warm and knowing. “Your fiance planned this with my fiance,” she replied, her hand resting gently on Flora’s back.
Flora shook her head, a mixture of disbelief and delight dancing in her eyes. She smiled, a genuine expression of happiness that reached her eyes.
The large table groaned under the weight of food and laughter.
Stella’s family buzzed with excited chatter, a lively counterpoint to the quiet intimacy of Flora and Tyros’ engagement.
Tyros flagged down a waiter, ordering another round of dishes to accommodate the growing crowd.
Then, Sky appeared, his hand clasped firmly in Sadine’s. “Congratulations!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine warmth.
Flora’s eyes lit up as she saw her brother. “And you’re here too!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with surprise and affection.
Sky’s smile was broad and reassuring. “Of course,” he said, “I’m our father’s representative.”
Sadine stepped forward, her voice soft and sincere. “Congratulations, Flora! Welcome to the family,” she said, her words heartfelt and genuine.
Flora’s eyes welled up. “Don’t say that,” she choked out, “you’re making me cry.”
Sadine pulled her into a warm embrace.
The arrival of Daisha and Darrel added to the joyous chaos.
“Are we late?” Daisha asked, her voice bright and cheerful.
Stella reassured her, “Not at all.”
Daisha rushed to Bryce, her eyes filled with affection. “I’ve missed you so much, Bryce!” she exclaimed, scooping him into a hug.
Tyros surveyed the scene, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Only one person is missing,” he said, his voice low.
Sky’s curiosity was piqued. “Who?” he asked.
Theo’s answer was immediate. “His best friend,” he said, their eyes meeting in unspoken anticipation of Brandon’s arrival.
Tyros’ words hung in the air, a playful jab at Brandon’s single status. “He’s the only single one here-” He began, but Brandon’s voice cut him off.
“It’s fine, though,” Brandon said, his easy confidence easing the tension.
Bryce’s delighted yell shattered the remaining formality. “Uncle Brandon!” he shouted, running to embrace his newfound uncle.
The room erupted in surprised laughter.
Daisha turned to Stella, her voice laced with confusion. “Uncle?” she asked.
Stella’s smile was mischievous. “Yeah,” she said, “I fixed the misconception for the better.” She glanced at Theo, her eyes sparkling with affection.
Daisha’s question hung in the air. “And Bryce accepted that?”
Stella nodded, a proud smile touching her lips as she looked at Bryce. “He’s a smart kid,” she said, her voice filled with affection, “He understood immediately.”
Sky leaned in, his voice a low murmur. “How about his mother?” he asked, his question laced with a hint of mischief.
Stella’s glare was immediate and sharp, silencing him instantly.
Theo intervened smoothly, his voice calm and reassuring. “We’ve already settled that,” he said, deflecting the potentially awkward conversation.
Flora’s light punch to Sky’s arm was both playful and reprimanding. “Don’t ask that kind of question,” she whispered, her voice sharp with disapproval.
Sky’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What did I do wrong?” he mumbled, his voice laced with genuine bewilderment.
Sadine’s gentle intervention stopped him from further probing. “Don’t be insensitive, Sky,” she said, her tone firm yet kind.
Sky fell silent, his curiosity quelled.
Their food arrived, a welcome distraction from the lingering tension.
Stella focused on feeding Bryce, her movements gentle and loving.
Theo interrupted her, his voice soft but firm. “You should eat,” he said, “I’ll take care of him.”
Stella glanced at Theo’s now-empty plate. “Are you done?” she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
Theo beamed, a touch of playful arrogance in his eyes. “I’m a fast eater,” he announced proudly.
Stella shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. “Fine,” she said, “I’ll eat now.”
The meal finished, the clinking of glasses a cheerful counterpoint to the quiet satisfaction of a shared meal.
A server poured red wine into Stella’s glass, the rich color a vibrant contrast to the white tablecloth.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her gratitude sincere. She turned to Theo, her eyes questioning. “Aren’t you going to drink?” she asked.
Theo’s gaze shifted to Bryce, his expression softening. “He doesn’t want me to,” he said, his voice gentle, a smile playing on his lips.
Bryce echoed his father’s sentiment, his small voice clear and firm. “You shouldn’t drink either, Mommy,” he said.
Stella’s smile was warm and affectionate as she placed her glass back on the table. “Sure,” she agreed, her eyes twinkling.
Bryce’s question broke through Stella’s contemplation. “Can we go outside?” he asked, his small voice a gentle nudge towards fresh air.
Stella smiled, her gaze softening as she looked at her son. “We’re just going to get some air,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. She patted Theo’s shoulder, a silent reassurance.
Theo leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. “And me?” he asked, a hint of playful jealousy in his tone.
Stella’s response was firm but gentle. “You stay here with them,” she said, her eyes conveying a silent message of trust and affection.
The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the enclosed warmth of the restaurant.
Bryce immediately spotted the fountain, its water sparkling under the soft glow of the nearby lights.
Stella’s voice was bright and encouraging. “I have some coins,” she said, “Go make a wish.”
Bryce selected a coin, his small fingers carefully placing it in his palm. He closed his eyes, his small body still as he concentrated on his wish.
Stella watched him, her heart filled with a mixture of pride and tenderness.
Then, a familiar voice broke the quiet intimacy of the moment.
Brandon stood beside her, his presence both unexpected and unwelcome. “So, you’ve made up your mind,” he said, his voice low and steady.
Stella’s immediate response was defensive. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice sharp.
Brandon’s answer was calm and confident. “I asked your fiance for permission,” he said, his eyes meeting hers.
Stella’s whispered question was laced with impatience. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice barely audible above the gentle murmur of the fountain.
Bryce’s voice cut through the charged silence. “Mommy, I’m done!” he announced, his eyes bright with excitement. He turned, his gaze falling on Brandon. “You’re here too, Uncle Brandon!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight.
Brandon greeted him warmly, his smile genuine. “I just want to talk to your mother,” he said, his voice soft.
Bryce, easily distracted, turned his attention back to the fountain.
Stella gestured towards Brandon, her voice firm. “You should go back inside,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Brandon’s response was unwavering. “I told you, I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice calm but persistent.
Stella sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Fine,” she whispered, composing herself, preparing for the inevitable conversation.
Then, Theo’s voice cut through the night, his call sharp and urgent. “Bryce!” he shouted.
Bryce, ever responsive to his father’s voice, turned and ran towards him, calling out, “Daddy!”
Theo’s nod was a silent agreement, a subtle gesture of trust and acceptance.
Stella turned her attention back to Brandon, her expression serious. “So, what now?” she asked, her voice firm.
Brandon’s question was direct, his tone laced with a hint of underlying concern. “Why did you accept their offer?” he asked, his eyes searching hers.
Stella’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What offer?” she asked, waiting for his explanation.
Brandon’s answer was simple, yet heavy with unspoken implications. “The marriage,” he said.
Stella’s response was unwavering, her voice laced with a quiet determination. “I’ve made up my mind, Brandon,” she said, “I want him to be my husband.”
Brandon fell silent, his words caught in his throat. He finally spoke, his voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and hurt. “Okay,” he said, “He’s better than me, right?”
Stella remained silent, her silence a testament to the complexity of her feelings. She broke the silence, her voice soft but firm. “You know I hate comparisons,” she said, her words a gentle rebuke.
Brandon nodded, his acceptance quiet and resigned. “I’m happy for you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper before turning and walking away.
The drive home was quiet, the familiar comfort of their car a welcome contrast to the emotional intensity of the day.
Theo watched Bryce, his son, engrossed in his toys, his small body a picture of innocent energy. “Aren’t you tired?” He asked, his voice soft.
Bryce’s response was immediate and energetic. “No, Daddy!” he exclaimed, continuing his play.
Stella’s voice was calm and reassuring. “Let him be,” she said, her gaze drifting to the window.
Theo’s question was prompted by a lingering curiosity. “How was your conversation with him?” he asked, referring to Brandon.
Stella’s answer was simple and understated. “He said goodbye,” she said.
Theo remained silent, his thoughts unspoken.
Days blurred into a whirlwind of wedding preparations.
Stella found herself at the mansion, immersed in the details of her upcoming wedding.
Alpha Raven greeted her with a warm smile. “Nice to see you here, young lady,” he said, his voice cordial.
Stella’s question was direct and to the point. “When will the designer arrive?” she asked.
Alpha Raven’s response was reassuring. “Any moment now,” he said.
Stella nodded, her attention focused on the task at hand.
Alpha Raven’s parting words were a thoughtful gesture. “Oh, and I’ve sent someone to collect your flowers,” he said before departing.