Chapter 235

Chapter 235
Sophia

Blake's lips brushed against my forehead, gentle and warm. "You look so much better today," he murmured, his eyes taking in my face with such genuine relief that something inside me softened. "The color's back in your cheeks."

My heart fluttered traitorously at his touch, and I fought the urge to lean in further. Part of me wanted to surrender completely, while another part remained guarded, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Amazing what twenty hours of sleep can do," I replied, leaning slightly into his touch despite my inner warning bells. The massive stone walls of James's castle estate surrounded us, so different from our sleek Manhattan apartment. Sunlight streamed through centuries-old windows, casting patterns across the antique furnishings.

"I wish I could stay and enjoy this lazy morning with you," Blake said, checking his watch. "But I need to meet with James and Elias. It's urgent—something about the Eastern European division that can't wait."

The mention of James sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. James —manipulative, brilliant, and freshly released from prison.

"Take Jasper with you," I suggested, adjusting the collar of his crisp shirt, my fingers lingering perhaps a moment too long.

Blake nodded, his expression serious. "I already spoke with James about the sleeping arrangements. The east wing has been prepared for us—more modern amenities, better for Jasper's breathing equipment."

"I handled it yesterday while you were in meetings," I said, a hint of pride slipping into my voice. "James was surprisingly accommodating."

Blake's eyebrows shot up. "You spoke with my father? About the rooms?"

"Someone had to," I shrugged, though internally I was replaying the nerve-wracking conversation with James—his penetrating gaze that seemed to strip away all pretenses, the way he'd called me "daughter" with a mix of respect and calculation that left me unsettled for hours. "You were stuck in conference calls, and I wasn't about to let your father's decoration choices give me nightmares."

A laugh escaped him, his eyes crinkling at the corners. God, I'd missed that sound.

"Sophia Green, fearlessly negotiating with the recently incarcerated James Sterling. I should have known."

His hand found mine, fingers intertwining naturally. My pulse quickened at the contact, and my stomach tightened with a mix of longing.

"I'll try to wrap up early. Maybe we could have dinner, just us, after the kids are asleep? "

"Sounds perfect," I said, watching as something flickered in Blake's eyes—a warmth, a renewed appreciation that made my heart stutter. It had been so long since he'd looked at me that way. I wanted to freeze this moment, to protect it from whatever storms might be gathering on our horizon.

Lauren appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, a knowing smile on her face. "If you two lovebirds are looking for privacy, I hear there's an ancient tower with spectacular views. Very romantic." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Blake laughed, squeezing my hand before releasing it. "I'll keep that in mind for tonight." He gathered Jasper from his portable crib, expertly securing him in the carrier. "Why don't you rest today, Sophia? This place has been in my family for generations—plenty of history to explore, or you could just enjoy the quiet."

After they left, Emma and Lily burst into the room, faces flushed with excitement.

"Mom! This place has secret passages!" Emma exclaimed, her eyes wide.

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "And there's a room with armor and swords! Real ones!"

"And ghosts!" Emma added dramatically.

"Who told you about ghosts?" I asked, amused by their exuberance while simultaneously cataloging the potential safety hazards of ancient castle exploration.

"The gardener," Lily explained solemnly. "He says a lady in white walks the north corridor."

I smoothed Lily's wild curls, so like her father's in texture. The thought made my chest ache with a bittersweet pang. These little genetic echoes were everywhere—Lily's curls, Jasper's chin, Emma's stance when she was being stubborn. All pieces of Blake, reminders of what we'd built together, what we'd almost lost.

"Well, if you see any friendly ghosts, be sure to introduce yourselves politely."

The girls ran off to continue their exploration, their laughter echoing down the ancient hallways. I found Lauren settled on an antique sofa near a floor-to-ceiling window, leafing through a travel guide.

"So," I said, sinking into the cushion beside her, wincing slightly as my still-tender head protested the movement.

Lauren closed the book with a sigh. "I've been researching child-friendly museums in Paris, and there's this amazing interactive science exhibit that Lily would love. Then I thought maybe the Swiss Alps for some snow—Emma mentioned wanting to try skiing."

"Sounds incredible," I said, genuinely impressed.

Lauren's confident expression faltered. "But what if I mess it up? I've never been responsible for planning something this important before."

"Lauren," I said firmly, leaning forward to catch her gaze. "You organized that investor conference in Tokyo with twelve hours' notice when our venue flooded. You can handle a European vacation with kids."

"Business is different," she protested, anxiety flashing across her features. "These are your children. What if Emma hates skiing? What if Lily gets bored at the museum? What if Jasper gets sick again?"

A familiar knot of maternal worry tightened in my stomach at the mention of Jasper getting sick. His fragile health was my constant concern, lurking beneath every decision, every plan. I pushed the anxiety down, refusing to let it consume this moment.

I squeezed her arm. "Then we adjust. You know these kids better than almost anyone. I trust you completely."

Lauren's eyes grew suspiciously bright. "I just don't want to let you down. Or them."

"You won't," I assured her, then stood to gaze out the window. The English countryside spread before us, rolling green hills dotted with ancient trees and distant stone cottages. It was breathtaking, and a world away from the chaos we'd left behind in New York.

"I still can't believe Blake forgave me," I said softly, the words escaping before I could stop them. My throat constricted around the admission, years of guilt and grief surging up like a tidal wave. "After everything."

Lauren joined me at the window. "Why wouldn't he? You're the best thing that ever happened to him."

I shook my head, my fingers tracing the ancient glass pane. "There are moments when I look at him and can't believe we're here. That he's looking at me again like...like he used to."

Lauren studied me, her head tilted. "Are you worried he'll change his mind? "

"Maybe." The admission felt like pulling out a splinter—sharp, painful relief. My chest tightened as I voiced my deepest fear. "Or maybe I'm worried that I don't deserve it."

A comfortable silence fell between us as we gazed at the countryside. In the distance, I could see Blake walking back toward the castle, Jasper secured against his chest, deep in conversation with Elias.

Even from this distance, I could read the tension in his shoulders, the way his free hand gestured emphatically. My heart contracted with love and worry—would we ever have a simple life? Or were we destined to lurch from one crisis to another?

"Whatever happens in New York," I said finally, drawing a deep breath that felt like courage, "I'm glad we had this time away. It's like... breathing space."

Lauren nodded, squeezing my hand. "You've fought so hard to get here, Sophia. Don't psych yourself out now."

"I should round up the girls for dinner," I said, straightening my shoulders, armor going back on. "The castle chef is preparing a traditional English feast, and I promised Blake we'd eat together as a family tonight."

Lauren smiled. "Go on. I'll find the ghost hunters and make sure they wash their hands."

As I walked through the grand hallway, my phone buzzed with a text from Blake: "Meeting running long. Save me some dessert. Love you."

Three simple words that once seemed impossible to hear from him again. I pressed the phone to my chest, allowing myself to feel the full impact of those words, to believe in them just a little more than yesterday.

Perhaps Lauren was right—maybe I was stronger than I believed. And maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other completely. I'd rebuilt myself from nothing once. I could build this new life too, one careful day at a time.