Chapter 300 Our second first time

Chapter 300 Our second first time

Isabel’s POV

Night has settled over the beach event center. Lanterns sway gently above us, and I flip off my damp pyjamas after a hot shower, the steam still lingering in the air. The day’s celebrations have left us all tired and warmed—so much so that each of us retreated to our rooms early, the firelight and laughter humming in the distance.

Tonight, I’m dressing the bed, running my hands over the soft linen, trying to soothe the lingering ache of a long day, when I pause and wonder: Why did the kids say they wanted to sleep at Aurora’s tonight? Their behavior earlier—it all felt off. When those three get together doing odd things, it usually means they’re planning something.

I scoff, turning away. I know they’ll be back soon—looking for bedtime stories. And I’ll give in. I always do.

A knock interrupts my thoughts. I fold the sheet neatly and head to the door.

Already?” I say with a laugh, expecting Scarlett and Sterling. “Didn’t even take that long and now you two are here—”

I pull the door open, heart light. But the moment I see him, something in me stills.

Alexander.

All the warmth from the shower evaporates, replaced by something quieter, heavier. I wasn’t prepared for this—for him.

My smile falters. My chest tightens.

He glances at me and says quietly, “Is there a problem?”

Caught off guard, I blink. “Ah—yes, no. Hm, I mean—” My words stumble until he chuckles softly, and that steady warmth eases me.

“The kids—they called. Said you might need help,” he explains, nodding toward the hallway.

Suddenly every look, every strange behavior, clicks together in my mind. This has been their plan all along.

He gives me a tentative glance. “I can go if you don’t want me here…”

I inhale slowly and relax. I’m sure they meant no harm—this is Alexander after all. “No. It’s fine. Come in.” I step aside politely.

He walks in and takes a seat. “The kids aren’t here?” he asks gently.

I fetch a bottle from the minibar, set two glasses on the bedside table, and pour. “They’ll stay with Aurora.”

He clears his throat. The silence is suddenly very real. Suddenly it’s just us again.

“Wine?” I crouch beside him, offering the glass.

He accepts, sipping and meeting my eyes. “I hope I’m not disturbing,” he says. “I didn’t realize you were alone.”

I’m quiet. I trace the rim of my glass, my mind drifting back to the moment on the beach—the kiss, the closeness, the feeling that still lingers.

He shakes me back to the present with a gentle voice: “I know you’ve heard this a thousand times, but—thank you, Isabel. Thank you for this little family. He pauses, his eyes on mine. “And I’m sorry. For everything. For not trusting you, for letting my anger speak louder than my heart. If I could turn back time, I’d do it all differently.”

Before he can continue, I place a finger on his lips. “It wasn’t all on you, Alexander. I didn’t share everything that day either. Maybe if I had, we wouldn’t have drifted for years. So I’m…”

His lips cover mine in a soft, sudden kiss. It jolts through me, heart pounding. Without a second thought, I hold him closer, return the kiss fiercely, tasting his apology, his yearning.

We break apart, breathless, staring at each other. I think: only he could make me feel this—after everything.

Gently, he inches forward on the couch, eyes almost glassy with feeling. “Are you sure this is what you want.”

I lean in, brushing my lips over his. “Yes.” My voice is soft, but unwavering.

His whisper trembles against my skin: “I love you, Isabel.”

I answer, voice firm: “I love you, too, Alexander.”

We come together with an urgency tempered by emotion, hands exploring, breath rising. He lifts my pyjamas. I feel the familiar thrill of his skin against mine—I’ve missed this more than words can say. He chuckles into another kiss, teasing, devouring.

I unbutton his shirt, smooth my hands over his chest, recalling the feel of him against me in half-forgotten dreams. He leans in, breath hot, voice low: “Isabel… you look beautiful.”

I give him a sly smile. “Now let’s see what else you’ve got.”

He scoops me into his arms and carries me effortlessly to the bed, setting me down with playful ease. “Don’t take back your words later,” he murmurs.

“Bring it on, Mr. Alexander King.”

We lose ourselves in each other—soft strokes, passionate heat, whispered names. My nails trace patterns across his back. His voice, my name, becomes a prayer. We climax together, wordless, tangled, complete.

Afterward, he kisses my forehead, whispering how lucky he is to have me back. I lie in his arms, breathing in the mix of skin, salt, and heartbeats. I tell myself: this is peaceful. This is home.

Maybe love isn’t just what you return to. Maybe it’s what you fight to rebuild.

I drift to sleep, his arms steadying me, my heart anchored at last.

Morning light washes over the beach. Waves lap gently, and children’s laughter flits through the air. Bare-footed, we head down to the sand where Scarlett and Sterling are already building their first castle of the day. Other families dot the shore, playing, walking, picnicking. Soft ukulele music drifts from a distant stand.

They wave us over. Aurora, Aria, Collins, Richard—they’re all there in joyful circles. I join hands with Scarlett and Sterling, digging toes into warm grains. Sandcastle competitions begin, laughter echoing in the sunrise.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes. I step aside to answer.

“Claire dear,” my mom’s voice is kind and gentle. “I didn’t want to interrupt your family time.” I smile and say a soft chuckle can be heard. “That’s okay, Mom.”

She continues, “I wanted to let you know—the final documents for the King’s Hotel project went through this morning. The city issued the permit after the release form you signed. Christine’s already on her way to deliver the contract to their board.”

Relief floods me. “Thank you. I knew you’d get it done.”

“Anything for you, baby.” I sense her tired smile. She adds, “Travis is dropping me off now.”

I frown, concerned: “Travis? I thought he needed rest.”

She sighs gently.

“You know him. Sitting around drives him crazy. Said he’s feeling fine and wanted to do something useful today.”

She adds with a soft chuckle, “I couldn’t talk him out of it. Just let it go, okay?”

“Alright, Mom.” I reassure her. “Enjoy today.”

She ends the call. I tuck my phone away, then hear Aria’s voice calling me to join the group photo. Scarlett and Sterling bounce with excitement.

I laugh, wiping wet sand from my hands, and step into the circle. The camera clicks, capturing a tapestry of proof: love, resilience, and new beginnings. Collins readies more shots. Richard and Aurora pose elegantly, framed by sea and sunshine.

Aurora sidles up to me and whispers, “Thank you, brother-in-law, for bringing that light back to her.” She smiles, sly—but genuinely grateful.

Suddenly Scarlett tugs at Alexander. “Daddy, show us your superpower!” she chirps.

He scoops them both up. “Okay!” He lifts them high, spinning to their delight. Their giggles ring out as Alexander humors them, salt breeze ruffling their hair.

I stand back and watch, my chest full. This is home. This is the family I always dreamed of. My heart gives a contented sigh as I race to catch up.

Maybe love isn’t just something you find. Maybe it’s something you choose to build, again and again.

“Wait for me!” I shout. The kids cheer, running away. I chase them down the shore, laughter echoing around us.