Chapter 193: Enough
My beloved is finally back, and the sun is high in the sky, casting warmth over the estate. I stand in the courtyard, watching as servants haul boxes up to our room, each one carefully labeled, no doubt filled with treasures he’s brought home for us. My eyes drift to him as he scoops up Mimi, showering her with kisses until her giggles echo through the air.
And then it happens again—that inexplicable tug in my chest, the one I feel every time I see them together. My heart stirs, and for a moment, I forget the world exists outside of this tiny, perfect family.
I can’t believe this is my life. Sometimes, it feels like I’m living someone else’s dream. I don’t even realize I’m smiling until I notice Celia standing nearby, watching me. Our eyes meet, and there’s a flicker of something in her gaze—something that makes my smile falter just a little.
She walks toward me, her expression unreadable. When she finally reaches me, she speaks softly. "Thorne? A word."
I glance back at Noelle and Mimi. My beloved star, surrounded by his light, and our daughter nestled safely in his arms. I don’t want to leave this moment, but something in Celia’s tone pulls me away. I nod reluctantly and follow her.
We walk into the sprawling garden, the crown jewel of the Remiro estate. The greenery stretches endlessly, every corner alive with color and vibrance. It’s one of my favorite places here, not just for its beauty but because it brings Noelle such joy. I think of him tending to the flowers, his hands brushing over the petals with reverence. That alone makes this place sacred to me.
But the silence between Celia and me is heavy, awkward. Didn’t she ask to talk? I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, wondering if I should say something to break the tension. Just as I part my lips to speak, she beats me to it.
"He’s beautiful, you know," she says suddenly, her voice quiet but steady. "Mirelle too. They both are."
"Yeah," I say, my voice coming out softer than I intend. It’s true, of course. They’re everything. I hate how everyone seems to know the way to disarm me now—mention them, and I’m undone.