Chapter 864 When Was It Arranged?

Chapter 864 When Was It Arranged?

Isabella met his gaze, her eyes calm as she returned it with the faintest of smiles.

From across the room, Olivia, who had witnessed the entire exchange, shivered dramatically and gave Isabella a look of pure disbelief.

"Oh my God, is that really the Michael I remember? You two have only been apart for a few months, and now he looks like a man hopelessly in love."

She shook her head. "Did you hear the things he just said? My skin is crawling."

Isabella bit back a laugh. "People change, Olivia. Haven't you changed a lot for Atticus?"

She quickly corrected herself. "No, I think Atticus has changed more for you. I remember he used to come home late at night. But lately, he's been home almost every afternoon. I wonder who he's coming home early for?"

Olivia's face flushed crimson. She leaned in, gritting her teeth as she murmured into Isabella's ear.

"So Michael's the only man who matters to you now? I say one tiny thing about him and you jump down my throat?

"I said it because you're my best friend. But you know what? I get it now—you and Michael are just as bad as each other, hopelessly in love and blind to the rest of the world. Honestly, you're a perfect match."

Before Isabella could reply, Atticus's voice cut in from across the room.

"It's getting late. The weather's cold, and Michelle's still so little. You should head back before she catches a chill."

"Alright, Atticus, we'll go," Isabella said, giving him a small nod before hugging Olivia goodbye.

The moment the car engine started, Olivia hurried forward, unwilling to let them go without a final word.

"Isabella, make sure you come visit me when you can. Or I'll come find you. Michelle's just gotten used to me — if she doesn't see me for too long, she'll forget me."

Isabella understood the ache behind her friend's words. She smiled and waved. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of Michelle, and I'll bring her to see you whenever I can."

The car pulled away from the Wilson Villa. Olivia stood watching the taillights fade into the distance, an unexpected wave of emptiness settling in her chest.

She didn't want to feel sad. But the thought of not seeing Michelle's smile or feeling her soft little hugs made her throat tighten.

"Atticus," she said quietly, "what am I going to do? I already miss her. What if she cries tonight, or gets fussy, or doesn't want to sleep because she's in a strange place?"

The hall was empty except for the two of them. Olivia clung to Atticus's arm and buried her face against his chest.

She knew Michelle wasn't her child. She knew it wasn't her place to worry. But she couldn't help it. She had been there from the moment Michelle came home from the hospital, from the days when she did nothing but cry to the moment she first opened her eyes. She had been there for all of it.

And Michelle had grown attached to her. Every time Olivia held her, she felt her heart melt.

Now Michelle was gone. By the time she saw her again, Olivia feared she wouldn't even remember her godmother.

Atticus stroked her back gently, knowing she was struggling to let go, but careful not to say anything that might cut too deep. After all, Michelle wasn't theirs. She had only stayed here for a while.

"Cinda went with them," he said finally, his voice low. "And Michelle's such a sweet baby. With Isabella there, she won't feel out of place."

"But—" Olivia began.

Atticus interrupted, his tone shifting. "By the way, what were you whispering to Isabella about earlier? I thought I heard something about children."

"What?" Olivia froze, caught off guard. The memory of their private conversation flashed in her mind, and her cheeks warmed. There was no way she could let Atticus know what they had really been talking about.

"We were just sharing tips about taking care of a baby. Nothing important."

"Is that so?" Atticus's mouth curved in a knowing smile. "I thought maybe you were worried about feeling lonely after Michelle left, and wondering how to get a baby of our own sooner."

Her eyes flickered, her secret exposed. But she wasn't about to admit it. She forced a laugh. "Of course not. That sort of thing can't be rushed. We'll just let it happen naturally."

Meanwhile, at Elysian Heights Estate.

The moment Isabella and Michael stepped inside, she stopped short, stunned by what she saw.

The entire living room had been transformed. The cool, muted tones were gone, replaced by warm colors that made the space feel cozy and playful. A thick new carpet covered the floor, and every sharp corner of the furniture had been softened.

It was impossible not to imagine that Michael had done all this for Michelle — and that he had chosen every detail himself.

But Michael had only just been discharged from the hospital. As far as she knew, he hadn't even been home these past weeks, staying instead in the company's private quarters. How had he found the time to prepare all of this?

Curiosity finally got the better of her. "When did you do all this?" she asked, turning toward him.

Michael, still holding a sleeping Michelle, carefully removed the little cloak from her shoulders and handed it to Cinda before answering.

"A couple of days before you came back with Michelle. I'd been thinking about it for a while, but work kept me busy. I didn't trust anyone else to handle it, so it took a bit longer."

Isabella ran her fingers along the smooth, rounded edges of the furniture, noting the perfect height for a baby to reach without danger. She couldn't deny the thoughtfulness behind it.

Babies grow fast, and at this age they love to crawl and explore. Everything here was safe, and designed for little hands.

She had always thought that Michelle's birth was tied, in Michael's mind, to the night she had been kidnapped — especially after he told the doctors to prioritize her life over the baby's. She had been furious at the time.

But now, looking at him, she realized his pain back then must have been just as deep as hers. He had been forced to make an impossible choice.

"Michael," she said softly, meeting his eyes, "you've worked so hard."

Something in his presence felt different now — steadier, more grounded. Just standing beside him made her feel safe.

Michael took her hand, a faint smile playing at his lips. "This isn't the only surprise. Come on, I'll show you Michelle's room. That's where I really put in the effort."

Later that evening, while Cinda was in the kitchen preparing dinner, Michael was called into the study for a meeting. Isabella stayed in the bedroom with Michelle, unpacking their things.

Michelle lay on the bed, her wide eyes taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Isabella's lips curved into a smile as her mind drifted back to the sight of the little girl's new room — the one Michael had created just for her.