Chapter 125

Chapter 125
Eloise

I leaned back in my office chair, staring at the glowing computer screen but not truly seeing it. Numbers blurred into meaningless shapes, emails stacked in neat, demanding rows. The quiet tick of the clock on the wall was the only rhythm in the room, and still I couldn’t shake the restless thrum in my chest.

It had been a month since everything, since the final confrontation, since Lucian had been cut clean out of my life, since the venom of betrayal stopped coursing through every breath I took. A month since Damon’s last failed attempt to claw his way into control. A month of rediscovering silence. A month of relearning who I was without constantly looking over my shoulder.

But grief had a way of leaving footprints on your soul. Some mornings I woke up light, unshackled, free. Other mornings, I carried the old ghosts.

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingertips against my temple. Just five minutes of peace, I told myself. Five minutes before diving back into quarterly reports, before another meeting, before—

My phone buzzed against the desk. The screen lit up with Mike’s name.

My heart jumped. I snatched it up, pressing it to my ear. “Mike?”

His voice came fast, breathless. “Eloise—it’s Max! He’s been breathing harshly, I think—we need to take him to the hospital.”

The world spun. My chair scraped hard against the floor as I shot to my feet. “What? Mike, slow down—”

But the line went dead.

“No, no, no—” I grabbed my bag, fumbling with my keys, my pulse hammering. Max. My little boy. My everything. I shoved my laptop closed, barely remembering to lock the office door before sprinting down the hall.

The elevator was slow. Too slow. I took the stairs, three at a time, clutching the rail like it could hold me together. Outside, the city noise roared, honking horns, chattering pedestrians, but all I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears.

I flagged the first taxi I saw, almost leaping in front of it. “Eastwood Apartments. Fast. Please—”

The driver barely nodded before slamming the pedal.

I sat forward in the seat, shaking, staring out the window but seeing nothing. Every breath I took felt thin, as if my lungs had shrunk. Memories crashed in my head, Max coughing once when he had the flu, his small body curled up in my arms, or was it the time he went into surgery for kidney failure? Or the heat of fever on his forehead. What if it was worse this time? What if I lost him? What if—

I pressed my fist to my mouth, choking on panic. Not again. Not another loss.

The taxi screeched to a halt in front of my building. I shoved money at the driver without looking, barely hearing his thanks as I bolted out. My heels clattered against the pavement as I raced up the stairs, skipping the elevator because my body couldn’t bear to wait.

By the time I reached my door, my throat was raw, my breath tearing out in gasps. I yanked the handle, the key slipping once before I managed to twist it.

“Max!” I shouted, flinging the door wide. “Max!”

Darkness. Silence. My stomach dropped like a stone.

Then—pop!

I jumped, nearly falling backward as balloons burst into the air. A warm glow flooded the room as lights flicked on. Saxophone music flooded the air, smooth and rich.

I froze, my hand still clutching the doorframe.

And then, there he was.

Mike stepped into view, dressed in a crisp black suit, a wide bouquet of roses clutched in his hands. His eyes met mine, and his mouth curved into a nervous, boyish smile.

Behind him, I saw it. The design strung across the wall in golden letters, twinkling under fairy lights.

Will you marry me?

My hand flew to my mouth. A laugh, half sob, half disbelief, broke from my throat.

And then Max came darting out from behind the couch, squealing with laughter. “Surprise, Mommy!” His little hands waved wildly, his cheeks split wide with a grin.

Tears blurred my vision instantly. “Oh my God—”

Ava held up her phone, recording every second, her smile soft and knowing. Beside her stood a few of Mike’s friends, some of mine, all clapping and cheering as the music swelled.

My knees went weak. The tension that had been strangling me just minutes ago unraveled all at once, replaced by an overwhelming tide of shock and love.

I covered my face with my hands, sobbing and laughing all at once. “You—you scared me to death!”

Mike crossed the room in quick strides, dropping the roses on the table so he could pull me against his chest. His embrace was strong, steady, everything I had been missing in all the chaos of my life. His lips brushed my hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry we had to trick you. I wanted to surprise you.”

I hit his chest with my fist, weakly. “Trick me? You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He chuckled, cupping my face so I had no choice but to look at him. “Worth it.”

And then, he sank to one knee.

The room erupted in cheers, in the shimmer of camera flashes, in the delighted squeals of friends.

Mike pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, his hands steady, his eyes locked on mine like the rest of the world didn’t exist.

“Eloise,” he said, voice rough, honest, shaking only slightly. “I’ve loved you since the moment you let me in, since the moment you trusted me with your heart after it had been broken. I want to spend every day proving to you that love can heal, that family can be whole again. Will you marry me?”

The tears streamed faster than I could stop them. My chest ached with joy so sharp it felt almost like pain.

“Yes!” I screamed, my voice breaking. “Yes, yes, yes!”

The applause was thunderous. I barely noticed as he slipped the ring onto my finger, because all I could see was him. Mike, on his knees, smiling like he had just conquered the universe.

I dropped to my knees too, crashing against him, kissing him through the tears and laughter, feeling the strength of his arms close around me.

Max’s giggle echoed in the background. “Mommy said yes!”

The rest blurred, the champagne cork popping, the hugs, the endless stream of congratulations. Ava’s voice teasing in my ear about finally letting myself be happy. Max wrapped his little arms around both me and Mike, squeezing so tight I could hardly breathe.

All I knew was that this was the start of something new. Something whole. Something, ours.

.

A week later, the cemetery was quiet.

The air smelled faintly of grass, soft beneath my heels. The grass swayed gently, brushing my ankles as the breeze moved through. The sky above was pale, washed with muted sunlight.

Mike walked beside me, holding my hand. His warmth anchored me, steadied me, even here.

We stopped in front of the grave. My mother’s name etched in cool stone, simple and strong.

For a long moment, I just stood there. My throat tightened, my chest heavy. Then, slowly, I crouched down, setting the bouquet of fresh flowers against the headstone.

“Hi, Mom,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying in the still air. “It’s been… a while.”

The words caught. I pressed my lips together, then tried again. “It’s over now. We won. I kept going. Just like you always told me to.”

The silence stretched, but it felt different now. Not empty. Not cruel. Just…perfect.

I reached out, brushing my fingers along the carved letters. “I wish you could’ve been here. To see me. To see Max. To see how far we’ve come. But I hope, wherever you are, you’re proud of me.”

Tears slipped free, soft and unhurried. Not heavy like before. Not bitter. Just happy tears.

Mike crouched beside me, his hand covering mine. His presence was quiet, respectful, giving me the space to speak.

I leaned closer to the stone, lowering my voice like it was a secret. “It’s over, Mom. And I’m free.”

When I rose to my feet again, the wind stirred. It brushed against my skin, lifting my hair gently, almost like a caress.

I closed my eyes, breathing in. Finality. Freedom.

Hand in hand, Mike and I turned away, walking back toward the gates. Behind us, the flowers swayed in the breeze, standing bright against the gray stone.

For the first time in years, I didn’t feel haunted. I felt whole.

The last word had finally been mine.

THE END.