Chapter 12
James went quiet for a couple of seconds before slipping a hand into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, Charlotte's name lighting up the screen.
He turned slightly away and answered.
"James! Why haven't you been picking up? Something's happening here in Novaria. The quarterly audit numbers from the Amber District office don't match what headquarters has, and the CFO is freaking out. They say you have to sign off personally before they can submit anything."
She paused, her voice softening, worry edging in.
"And Jasper got into a little fight at school this afternoon. His teacher called and said a parent needs to come in. I tried to handle it for you, but the school insists it has to be an immediate family member. James, when are you coming home?"
James tightened his grip on the phone and glanced at Isabella.
She was leaning against the wall, relaxed, not trying to listen, not trying to hold him back. Just… there. Unbothered. Almost distant.
"I got it," he said, his voice weighted, like something heavy sat on it. "I'll be on tonight's flight."
He hung up.
Silence settled back over the stairwell.
James slipped his phone into his pocket and looked at Isabella. His lips parted like he wanted to speak.
Isabella beat him to it.
"Mr. Sinclair, looks like there's something urgent in Novaria." Her tone was light, polite, even a little formal. "Go take care of it. The divorce can wait. Whenever you're ready to sign, just have your attorney contact mine."
When Isabella stepped outside the conference hall, the Tech Harbor night breeze hit her face, cool and brisk.
She stood on the steps for a moment, inhaling deeply, pressing down the faint, dull ache in her chest.
The truth was, the second James answered that call, something inside her flickered—small, thin, almost untraceable.
Six years. The pattern never changed.
Every time she thought he might finally say something real to her, Charlotte's call would come. And he would always choose to walk away.
Years ago, it would have broken her. She would've cried into her pillow until it was soaked, would've stayed awake half the night replaying every moment.
Now, she simply watched the scene repeat, and the only thought rising in her chest was a quiet, unsurprised: Of course.
Of course, it would end like this.
She'd learned.
The lights in the underground garage were dim and yellowed. Joseph stood by the car, still holding the latte that had long since gone cold.
When he saw her, he didn't ask anything. He just opened the passenger door.
"Home?"
"Yeah. Home."
The car slipped into Tech Harbor's night, headlights cutting through passing streams of neon. Isabella leaned back in her seat, watching the shifting glow outside the window, and her lips curved faintly.
Home.
For the first time, the word didn't drag her down.
Three days later. Novaria, Sinclair Villa.
After returning to Novaria and digging himself out from a mountain of delayed work, James looked noticeably worn down.
That evening, he made an effort to come home early to have dinner with Jasper.
Jasper sat at the dining table, staring at his steak without interest. He poked it twice with his fork, then set the utensil down.
"Dad." He lifted his head, blinking up at him, voice soft.
"Yeah?"
"When's Mom coming back?"
James froze mid‑movement, his fork hovering above his plate.
It wasn't the first time Jasper had asked.
Ever since he got back from Tech Harbor, Jasper asked every day. At first, it was a drowsy whisper before bedtime. Then during meals. Later, the minute he got home from school.
"Mom's busy," James said, voice rough. "She'll be back in a while."
"You always say a while." Jasper's mouth pushed into a pout as he slapped his fork onto the table. "How long is that? I'm starting to forget what she looks like!"
A tight, painful pressure closed around James's chest.
Because he was the one who pushed her out.
He was the one who told her she wasn't fit to be this child's mother.
He was the one who let Charlotte take her place in their son's life.
And now, when she truly didn't answer his calls, didn't come back, he finally understood how quickly consequences could strike.
Meanwhile, the video from Isabella's presentation had gone viral.
From being accused of plagiarism to turning the entire situation around, from revealing her eight‑year‑old sketches to receiving a standing ovation—the clip played like a movie with perfect twists.
It spread everywhere, hitting over twenty million views in three days.
Comments flooded every platform.
[She's insane—six years gone and she comes back like THIS? Absolute queen!]
[Best moment of the whole event. That woman who tried to smear her must be hiding right now.]
[Anyone else notice the man behind her? That's Joseph from Northstar Architecture! The way he looks at her—my God.]
[Found it! Isabella and Joseph went to the same college! They even ran a design studio together!]
[This is childhood-sweethearts‑to‑lovers energy, and I'm obsessed. They're perfect.]
[I'm shipping them so hard. Mr. Miller waited for her all these years—now that is devotion!]
The hype only intensified. Isabella and Joseph were officially the internet's new favorite pairing.
Weekend. Sinclair Villa.
Charlotte arrived with a tray of freshly baked cookies for Jasper.
Jasper curled up on the couch, flipping listlessly through a picture book. Charlotte sat beside him, sliding a cookie his way every so often.
James sat in a single armchair across the room, a tablet in hand, though the tension in his brow made it clear he wasn't really reading.
Charlotte casually pulled out her phone, swiping the screen, then let out a perfectly timed little gasp.
James didn't look up.
She leaned closer to Jasper, showing him the screen. "Jasper, look! Your mom's been all over the news. Isn't she amazing?"
The moment he heard the word 'mom,' Jasper dropped his book and scrambled over.
Charlotte scrolled again, stopping precisely on a photo of Isabella walking out of the conference hall beside Joseph.
"See? This man is one of your mom's old classmates," she said gently. "His name is Joseph. He's her boss now."
She let out a soft sigh, her smile full of tender understanding.
"People online say the two of them look perfect together. And look at this—see how warm he is when he looks at her?"
Her voice turned sympathetic, almost wistful.
"Your mom used to be such a star in the design world. Being stuck at home for years really held her back. It's good she finally met someone who gets her, someone who truly appreciates her…"
James's fingers clenched around the tablet, halting mid‑page.
He lifted his head sharply, eyes darkening as he stared at Charlotte.
Charlotte didn't notice. She kept going, sweetness still coating her voice.
"James, do you think Isabella might actually get together with Joseph? I heard he's stayed single for years because of her. That kind of devotion… most men couldn't do it."