Chapter 50
Chapter Fifty
Solenn
The smell of pancakes filled the kitchen, the scent of warm butter and vanilla curling through the air as I flipped the next batch onto a plate.
Sunday mornings were my favorite. Slow, lazy, filled with nothing but laughter, warmth, and the people I loved most. The early sunlight spilled through the windows, casting a golden glow over the kitchen as I moved around, humming to myself.
Life has changed in so many ways over the years, but this?
These quiet mornings, the simple domesticity of it all—this was the kind of happiness I had never imagined for myself back when my world revolved around corporate chaos and endless schedules.
The sound of giggling drifted from the living room, breaking through the peaceful silence.
I paused mid-pour, tilting my head toward the source of the sound.
I knew that laugh all too well—our daughter was up to something.
I set the spatula down, wiping my hands on a towel before quietly stepping out of the kitchen and into the hallway.
Sure enough, Maverick and Aria, our eight-year-old daughter, were curled up on the couch, locked in what appeared to be a heated and very dramatic debate.
Aria sat cross-legged, arms crossed over her chest, her little brows furrowed in deep concentration as she pointed an accusing finger at Maverick.
"You’re lying, Daddy. Mommy seduced you first." Her voice was filled with conviction, and it took everything in me not to burst out laughing on the spot.
Maverick exhaled heavily, running a hand down his face as if this conversation was physically exhausting him. "I hate to break it to you, princess, but that is not how it happened." His tone was dead serious, but there was amusement lurking beneath his words.
Aria narrowed her eyes, clearly unconvinced. "That’s not what Uncle Asher said."
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing. Of course, Asher had gotten involved in this. That man lived to stir up chaos.
Maverick shot a glare toward the ceiling as if mentally cursing his brother. "Your uncle is a menace and cannot be trusted."
Aria gasped, horrified. "But he told me everything!"
Maverick groaned. "That’s exactly the problem."
Unable to hold back any longer, I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, smirking at the scene unfolding before me. "Oh, sweetheart," I said smoothly, drawing their attention. "Your daddy likes to think he was in control, but let’s be real—I had him wrapped around my finger from day one."
Maverick’s head snapped toward me, his eyes narrowing playfully. "That is not how I remember it."
Aria turned to me, eyes bright with excitement. "Tell me everything!"
I pretended to think for a moment, tapping my chin. "Well, let’s see. Your daddy was this big, brooding CEO with zero social skills, and I was his brilliant, charming, vastly underappreciated assistant."
Maverick scoffed. "Vastly underappreciated?"
I waved him off, continuing. "Anyway, despite his grumpy demeanor and infuriating arrogance, he couldn’t resist me.
I mean, how could he? Look at me." I gestured to myself.
"He fell first. He tried to fight it, of course.
But eventually, he realized resisting me was a lost cause, and he completely, helplessly fell in love with me. "
Maverick sighed dramatically, shaking his head. "That is not how it happened."
Aria giggled. "Lies. Mommy never lies."
Maverick placed a hand over his heart, mock-offended. "This is a complete betrayal. My daughter has turned against me."
I smirked, stepping into the room and pressing a quick kiss to his temple before ruffling Aria’s dark curls. "That’s because she’s smart. She gets it from me."
Aria beamed. "I do!"
Maverick groaned. "Unbelievable."
Aria suddenly perked up again, her curiosity renewed. "Okay, so wait—who’s the boss now?"
Maverick didn’t even hesitate. He turned to her, dead serious. "You are, princess."
Aria’s entire face lit up, her tiny chest puffing out proudly. "I knew it!"
I snorted, shaking my head. "Reasonable answer."
Aria giggled uncontrollably, then bolted off the couch and sprinted toward the kitchen, her energy endless. "Mommy, I want the pancakes with extra chocolate chips!"
I rolled my eyes fondly, already following her. "Coming right up."
Maverick trailed behind us, arms crossed over his chest. "I feel so disrespected in my own home."
I smirked. "Because we tell the truth?"
He huffed, leaning against the counter as I plated Aria’s breakfast. "Because I live with two ruthless women who enjoy ganging up on me."
Aria, already stuffing her face with pancakes, pointed her fork at him. "You love it, Daddy."
Maverick sighed, defeated. "I really do."
I laughed, placing a fresh plate in front of him before moving to pour myself a cup of coffee. As I did, I felt his arms snake around my waist from behind, his body pressing lightly against mine. His lips brushed against my temple, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.
"You know," he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear, "you did seduce me first."
I smirked, taking a slow sip of my coffee. "I know."
He chuckled against my skin, pressing another lazy, affectionate kiss to my shoulder before pulling away. God, I loved this man.
Ten years.
Ten years since that ridiculous office romance turned into everything. Since corporate meetings turned into whispered confessions, since heated arguments turned into breathless kisses, since love—**real, messy, chaotic, beautiful love—**became my everyday life.
And standing here, in our kitchen, with our little girl rolling her eyes at her dramatic father, with Maverick pretending to be exasperated but holding my waist like he was never letting go?—
I wouldn’t change a single second of it.
Not for anything in the world.
END
Don’t stop here…
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Can one night rewrite their past… and future?
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Bobby
The alarm clock blared, though I had already been awake for the last half hour, staring at the ceiling.
I turned it off with a sharp slap and let out a slow breath, rubbing my face.
Another night of barely any sleep. No surprise there.
Sleep never lasted long—not when my dreams kept dragging me back to that day.
I sat up, my muscles stiff, and ran a hand through my hair.
My body was awake, but my mind was still stuck in the past, reliving something I couldn’t change.
Liam’s voice. His laugh. The way his sneakers had scuffed against the pavement. Then the way he disappeared.
I exhaled and pushed the memories down. It had been six years. Six damn years. And it still felt like yesterday. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, planting my feet on the cold floor, and stared at my hands. No use sitting here. Routine. That was the only thing that kept me moving.
The apartment was dark except for the faint orange glow filtering through the blinds.
The streetlights outside flickered as the city stirred awake.
I made my way to the kitchen, flipping on the coffee machine, and listening to it gurgle and hiss.
The smell filled the air, familiar, steady.
I leaned against the counter, staring at the chipped rim of my favorite mug.
Routine. Coffee at dawn. A morning run if there was time.
Work until exhaustion took over. Rinse and repeat.
It was the only way I knew how to keep my mind from spiraling.
By the time I got to the firehouse, the guys were already moving around, gearing up for another shift.
The smell of brewing coffee mixed with sweat and the faint traces of smoke clinging to our uniforms. Someone laughed across the room, a joke I wasn’t in on.
I liked it that way. I didn’t mind the noise, but I kept my distance.
“Norman, you look like hell,” Mike called from the other side of the locker room, his smirk lazy as he grabbed his gear. “Bad dreams again?”
I shot him a look as I pulled my jacket over my shoulders. “I always look like hell.”
“Yeah, but some days are worse than others.”
I didn’t answer. No point. He already knew. Mike had been my closest friend since I joined the department. He didn’t pry, but he noticed things.
Carter snickered as he slammed his locker shut. “Maybe Bobby here just needs a woman in his life. Can’t live on fire and whiskey forever.”
I rolled my eyes, adjusting the strap on my helmet. “Yeah, Carter. I’ll get right on that.”
The usual banter filled the room, but I wasn’t in the mood to play along. I focused on the movements—checking equipment, tightening straps, anything to keep my hands busy.
The firehouse was loud, full of voices, the clang of metal, the constant motion of people coming and going. I liked it. It gave me something to focus on. It was the only place where my thoughts didn’t have room to settle.
Chief Daniels walked in, flipping through his clipboard. “Got a call last night about a missing kid,” he said, his voice even. “Parents think he was snatched. Cops are handling it, but keep an eye out.”
My stomach twisted. I kept my expression blank, but I felt Mike’s gaze flick toward me. I ignored it, checking the gauge on my oxygen tank.
Missing kid. The words hit harder than they should.
The morning passed in a blur. A couple of false alarms, but nothing serious. It wasn’t until the afternoon that the first real call came in.
The radio crackled to life. “Small kitchen fire in an apartment complex on 8th. Contained but still active. Residents are evacuating.”
We moved fast, climbing into the truck, sirens blaring as we cut through the city streets. I gripped the bar above me, my eyes trained on the road ahead. Fires were simple. Flames could be put out. People could be saved. Unlike in the past, this was something I could fix.
When we arrived, smoke curled from a second-floor window, but the tenants had already evacuated.
We moved in quickly, making sure nothing reignited, checking for structural damage.
I worked on autopilot, focused on the task, moving through the motions like I had a thousand times before.
It was easy. The rush of it. The routine.
It was only after the fire was out that my mind drifted back. That creeping feeling. The silence settled in my chest.
And then she was there.
Not physically—thank God—but in my head. Gabbi. The name alone made my jaw clench.
What if she had just listened? What if she had stayed home that day? Would Liam still be here? Would I be different?
I exhaled sharply, shaking the thought away. It didn’t matter. The past was the past. No changing it.
By the time we got back to the firehouse, I felt the exhaustion creeping in, but I ignored it. Pushing through was easier. Keep moving. Keep working. Anything but letting my mind wander too far.
I stayed later than I had to, going through reports, reorganizing gear, and cleaning my station even though it was already spotless. Eventually, Mike clapped a hand on my shoulder.
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