Chapter 96: Her thoughts and emotions

Chapter 96: Her thoughts and emotions
Riele stirred from sleep slowly, her limbs stretching lazily against soft sheets. For a moment, everything was still, a blank page between dreams and reality. Then came the sound—faint, bright, bubbling.

Laughter.

Giggles, too.

She blinked open her eyes. That voice—Charlotte. And that laugh… Harry’s. She sat up halfway, blinking as she tried to get her bearings. She rubbed her eyes, then turned toward the window where morning light filtered through the curtains. In the distance, more laughter. A tiny voice giggled, squealed. That had to be Hope.

Her heart fluttered, caught between warmth and confusion. How did she get here? The last thing she remembered was being in Jay’s car. Had he carried her in? Why didn’t he wake her? She scanned the room, her clothes from yesterday hung neatly on the back of a chair. Her phone was charging beside the bed. Everything was in place.

Except her thoughts.

She pushed the blanket away and headed to the bathroom. The shower was warm against her skin, but her mind raced with questions. Jay. Always showing up when she needed someone. Gentle. Kind. Silent when it mattered, steady when everything else was falling apart.

After dressing, she took a deep breath and descended the stairs. The sounds grew louder. The scent of eggs and toast reached her nose. She entered the kitchen and froze at the sight.

Charlotte and Harry sat at the table, laughing over something he’d just said, and Hope—now over a year and a few months—ran in circles around the table, giggling like the morning sun. A tray of food sat in the center. The scene felt so normal, so warm, like something from a life she hadn't realized she missed.

“Sleeping beauty is awake!” Charlotte called out playfully, glancing toward her with a mischievous grin.

Riele blinked and smiled slowly. “Hey…”

“Come get some breakfast before Hope eats it all,” Harry added with a wink.

Hope spotted Riele and ran to her. “Ree-ree!” she shouted.

Riele bent down, scooping her up into a tight hug. The little girl’s joy was infectious, and Riele felt some of her unease melt away.

“Good morning, baby,” Riele whispered into her hair, holding her a little longer than she needed to.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “I made eggs, toast, and coffee. Harry did nothing, in case you’re wondering.”

Harry threw a grape at her. “I opened the orange juice!”

Riele chuckled and settled down at the table with Hope still in her arms. She passed Hope a piece of toast, then started eating quietly.

Charlotte leaned her elbow on the table. “So... are you going to tell us how you got back last night? Or do we get to assume Jay flew you in with angel wings?”

Riele rolled her eyes but blushed. “I… don’t remember much. I must have fallen asleep. He didn’t wake me.”

“Oh, he didn’t,” Charlotte replied, drawing out the words with a knowing look. “Harry told me. He carried you inside. And he tucked you in, too.”

Riele looked down at her coffee. “He’s… he’s always been that way. Gentle.”

Charlotte leaned in further. “So, are we finally going to talk about Jay and Kim?”

Riele sighed. She looked up at Charlotte, who was staring at her with those sharp, sisterly eyes. She turned to Harry. “Can we get some girl time?”

Harry stood dramatically. “Say no more. I’m not trying to get between this tea session.” He kissed Hope on the head and left the kitchen.

Riele watched his retreat, then turned back to Charlotte.

“I met with Kim yesterday,” she started.

Charlotte sat up straighter. “Okay…”

“I told him it’s over. I told him to focus on his wife. I asked him to love her... because she deserves it.”

Charlotte’s brows drew together. “You meant it?”

“I think I did. I had to. Jane came to see me, with her baby. She begged me, Charlotte. She was on her knees, in tears.”

Charlotte’s lips parted, stunned. “And what about Jay?”

Riele hesitated. “That’s what I don’t know. He’s… amazing. Always there. But it’s like I’m afraid to let myself be happy. I’m scared that if I choose, I’ll lose something again.”

Charlotte reached across the table, covering Riele’s hand. “Rie, listen to me. I’ve watched Jay with you. I’ve seen how he looks at you. That man would walk through fire for you and never ask why.”

Riele’s throat tightened.

“You’ve been through so much,” Charlotte continued. “But maybe… maybe happiness is trying to knock at your door again, and you keep locking it. Let it in.”

Riele said nothing for a long moment. Then she whispered, “I wish Mom was here. She’d know what to say.”

Charlotte softened. “She’d tell you to follow your heart.”



That afternoon, after Charlotte left with Hope and Harry, Riele found herself walking the familiar path to the cemetery. The sun was soft, golden as it danced between the trees. Her mother’s grave was near the edge, beneath a willow tree.

She stood there in silence, reading the name etched in stone.

“Hi, Mom,” she whispered. “It’s me again.”

A breeze rustled the leaves above.

“I miss you. I miss you so much.” Her voice cracked, and her fingers brushed over the cool marble.

“I don’t know what to do. I’ve loved and lost… and now someone else is here. Someone who makes me smile without even trying. Someone who makes me feel… safe. I don’t know if I deserve that. Or if it’s too late.”

She knelt beside the grave, fingers digging into the earth.

“I told Kim it’s over. I let him go. I think it was the right thing to do. He belongs to someone else now. But it still hurts, Mom. It hurts to say goodbye to someone I once loved so much.”

Tears streamed silently down her cheeks.

“But Jay…” she breathed. “He’s different. He doesn’t ask for anything. He just… gives. And it scares me. Because what if I fall and he changes? What if I let myself be happy and I lose again?”

The wind whispered through the willow leaves.

“I want you to tell me what to do,” she murmured. “Just one more time. I wish you could just hold my hand and say, ‘Riele, choose what makes you happy.’”

She wiped her cheeks and smiled sadly.

“I think you’d tell me to stop running from love.”

With a soft breath, she stood, laying a hand on the headstone. “Thank you for everything, Mom. I’m trying.”

As she walked away, a quiet certainty settled into her chest. Maybe the choice wasn’t about Kim or Jay. Maybe it was about herself—choosing not to be afraid anymore.

And maybe, just maybe, love was waiting for her to stop closing the door.