Chapter 125 125
AT first, Amelia had been stiff, sitting with her arms crossed, her smile only for Hazel. Adrian, too, had seemed unsure, hesitant even as Hazel chattered about the ducks swimming across the lake.
But as the minutes ticked by, something softened. Hazel had that effect on them, her laughter was too contagious, her innocence too pure. She made jokes, demanded they both try the strawberry pancakes she ordered, and insisted they share stories of when she was a baby.
“Mommy, remember when I spilled juice all over Daddy’s shoes?” Hazel giggled, syrup smeared on her lips.
Adrian chuckled, shaking his head.
“How could I forget? I had just bought them that morning.”
Amelia found herself laughing too, despite the wall she tried to hold up. The sound of her own laughter startled her, it was too easy, too natural. For a brief spell, it almost felt like old times. Like family.
“I had almost spanked your ass until—”
“Yeah,” Adrian cut in gently, their eyes meeting, “until I stepped in,” he finished slowly.
Hazel smiled.
The conversation slipped into light banter. Adrian leaned in once, teasing Hazel about her missing tooth, and Amelia didn’t protest when his hand brushed close to hers as they both reached for Hazel’s napkin. There was warmth there, unspoken but familiar.
For a fleeting moment, Amelia allowed herself to breathe, to forget the mess of the past. The café air smelled of brewed coffee and baked bread, the sun shimmered across the water, and Hazel’s grin tied it all together.
But then, just as Adrian leaned back and gave her that look— the one that used to make her heart race, Amelia’s chest tightened. Memories she had buried deep surged back like a wound ripped open. His betrayals. His absence. The endless nights she had cried alone, waiting for a man who never showed.
She dropped her fork suddenly, the clatter jolting Hazel.
“Mommy?” the little girl asked.
Amelia swallowed hard, her eyes narrowing on Adrian.
“No,” she whispered under her breath, as though to herself. Then louder: “This— this doesn’t erase what happened, Adrian. Don’t sit here and pretend.”
Adrian blinked, visibly taken aback. His hand froze halfway over his glass, Hazel’s smile fading as she looked between them.
“Amelia…” His voice was low, almost pleading. “I’m not pretending. I—”
But she pushed back her chair abruptly, her jaw set.
“Hazel, finish your food. We are leaving after this.”
Hazel’s little shoulders slumped, tears forming in her eyes.
“But Mommy—”
Adrian’s hand twitched as if to reach out, but Amelia shot him a glare sharp enough to silence him. Whatever softness had been blooming was gone, replaced with the cold shield she had built over the years.
The café, once warm and full of laughter, now felt suffocating. Adrian’s heart ached at the shift, but Amelia refused to let herself be drawn back in, not after everything he had put her through.
The family outing Hazel had so carefully planned was cracking, and all Adrian could do was sit in the wreckage of what might have been.