2025-06-02 15:19:15
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280. The Truth, Finally
The following morning, Van sat in his corner office with the skyline stretched wide beyond the glass. The city shimmered below— steel and shadow and movement— but the noise stayed out. Inside, it was all silence. He stared at the unopened email on his screen for the third time in twenty minutes. Subject: Q3 Forecast — Urgent Review Needed He didn’t open it. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the leather armrests, and tried not to picture Ivy’s face from the night before— the way she’d watched him, like someone looking at a familiar painting that suddenly seemed… different. She hadn’t accused him of anything. She hadn’t even raised her voice. But she knew something. And Lila? Lila had gone right back to playing the helpful guest, the live-in family friend who folded the twins’ laundry and offered to make breakfast. As if nothing had happened. As if she hadn’t called him home with a lie about a child fainting just to try to force herself on him in the hallway
279. Silent Pain
Van let himself into the mansion just after seven, the weight of the day pressing down on his shoulders harder than usual. His phone buzzed with after- hours texts— numbers, questions, updates— but he ignored them.The foyer was dim, the lights set to that soft amber glow Ivy always preferred in the evening. It was quiet, but not empty. He could hear the low hum of the dishwasher in the kitchen, the muted clatter of toys being gathered in the den. Chloe’s laugh echoed faintly upstairs.Home.He loosened his tie, slid off his shoes, and made his way down the hall.In the den, Ivy was crouched beside the bookshelf, putting away storybooks. She looked up when she heard him and smiled —not brightly, not tightly. Just a warm, simple smile.He felt it in his chest more than anywhere else.“Hey,” she said.“Hey,” he replied, setting his briefcase on the side table.She stood slowly, brushing her hands on her jeans. “Long day?”He nodded. “Yeah. You okay?”She hesitated— just for a fraction o
278. Doubt
The sun had just begun its descent, casting a golden haze over the mansion’s west-facing windows. Ivy stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing the last of the lunch dishes, while the twins played on the rug near the open patio doors. Billy was stacking puzzle pieces, Chloe babbling instructions like a forewoman on a mission. The house was peaceful. Or it should have been. Lila sat at the kitchen island, nursing a cup of green tea she hadn’t touched in ten minutes. She’d been unusually quiet all afternoon, but not in a shy way. More like a cat watching a mousehole, waiting. “Ivy,” she said suddenly, drawing out the name with a smile. Ivy glanced up, towel in hand. “Hmm?” Lila tilted her head. “How well do you trust Van?” The question landed like a feather— soft, weightless— but Ivy felt it settle too deeply. She blinked. “What?” “Just curious,” Lila said lightly. “You two seem so… solid. I admire that. Really.” Ivy smiled faintly, folding the towel and setting it aside. “We’ve been
277. Crossroad
The city always moved at a relentless pace— glass towers scraping the sky, elevators humming like arteries, and a hundred voices echoing in every hallway. Van usually thrived in it. His office on the top floor of Everest HQ was sleek, silent, and buffered by layers of glass and guarded calm. But today, he couldn’t focus. The morning meetings blurred together— earnings reports, board projections, legal reviews. His assistant, Naya, had handed him an espresso and a thick packet of briefs, all annotated and ready for signature. He’d signed them with practiced ease. He didn’t remember a word. Now, alone in his office, he stood with his hands in his pockets, looking out over the skyline. Far below, cars bled into one another like ants. The sky was overcast, streaked with the kind of gray that didn’t rain but never cleared either. Like it was waiting. He understood the feeling. The message Lila had sent earlier still sat on his phone, untouched. “Saw Chloe’s drawing on the fridge
276. Beneath The Surface
By Tuesday morning, the rhythm of home had settled back into place. Ivy moved through the kitchen barefoot, coffee cup in hand, watching birds flutter at the feeder outside the window. Billy and Chloe were still in their pajamas, building a precarious tower out of wooden blocks on the rug. Van had taken his toolbox out to the shed to fix a loose hinge, his steady footsteps fading across the porch.Everything looked the same.But it didn’t feel the same.She’d woken up with a strange tightness in her chest, the kind that didn’t go away with deep breaths. Maybe it was just leftover anxiety from the wedding and travel. Maybe it was something else.Then came the knock.Three soft taps at the side door, familiar in their rhythm.Ivy opened it, and there was Lila— backlit by the morning sun, cardigan neatly folded over her arm, a tray of lemon bars in hand.“Welcome home,” she said with a cheerful smile. “Thought I’d bring by something sweet.”Ivy blinked. “Hi. I was wondering where you wer
275. Odd Silence
The train ride home was smooth, the late afternoon sun drifting through the windows in soft golden strips. Ivy watched the countryside roll by, her suitcase tucked between her legs and Macy’s wedding program folded in her lap. Her heart was full from the weekend —laughing with old friends, hugging her sister in law through happy tears, dancing until her feet ached —but a deeper part of her ached in a different way.She missed her children.She missed Van.And more than that, she missed the rhythm of home: the twin giggles in the morning, the squeak of the front door when someone came in from the porch, the scent of coffee and oat muffins in the kitchen.When the train pulled into the big city station, Van was already waiting in the car. He waved when he saw her and opened the passenger door before she could even reach it.“You didn’t have to drive all the way here,” she said with a smile, leaning in to kiss him.“I wanted to,” he said simply, helping with her suitcase.He looked tired
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