Chapter 25
The funeral was quiet. No sobs, no chaos–just silence and the echo of every missed opportunity. After the last flower was laid on the casket, I walked away with heavy feet but a mind already calculating the work ahead. Grief could wait. There was a company to lead.
Paula’s absence meant I was the next in line, and even if it wasn’t the life I chose, I owed it to the legacy–and to myself–to take the reins. With Julian by my side, we initiated the merger with Thorne Holdings. Everything felt clinical at first. Meetings, documents, board approvals. My days were a blur of signatures and boardroom negotiations.
But there was something calming in the chaos. I.wasn’t alone anymore. Julian sat beside me through it all–firm, focused, and silently reassuring. Even when my temper frayed, or exhaustion hit, he never once lost his patience.
One afternoon, after I barked at the legal team for overlooking a clause, he gently leaned close and whispered, “Remind me to never forget your coffee order again.”
I almost laughed.
A week after the merger was finalized, we escaped. Julian insisted–dragged me away from conference calls and balance sheets–and before I knew it, we were on a plane to Santorini. I wasn’t used to rest anymore. It felt unnatural.
But the blue of the Aegean Sea was impossible to ignore. I stood on the villa’s balcony, watching the sunset bleed into the water. Julian came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “You don’t need to be strong all the time, you know.”
I leaned into him. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”
He turned me around to face him. “Then let me teach you.”
That night, in the soft warmth of white linen sheets and the sound of waves crashing below, I let myself believe that maybe… just maybe… this time, love could be real. No secrets. No betrayal.
Just us.
A few weeks later, I started feeling nauseous in the mornings. At first, I thought it was the stress again. I tried to brush it off, but then it happened–twice, three times. Julian noticed.
“You okay?” he asked one morning, handing me ginger tea.
I stared at the cup. “Julian… I think I might be pregnant.”
His eyes widened, and for a second, I thought he’d choke. Then, slowly, his lips curled into the softest smile.
“Are you serious?”
I nodded, heart pounding.
He set the cup down, knelt beside me, and kissed my hand. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.”
Tears pricked my eyes. I had never seen joy like that on someone’s face for me–not even when gave Denver the news back then. Back when everything turned into ashes.
Pregnancy wasn’t easy. The hormones made me cry over cereal commercials and Julian nearly had a panic attack the first time I vomited in the car. But he adapted fast. He downloaded every
212
100 09
app, read every book, and installed a whiteboard in our bedroom just to track weekly baby nilestones.
You’re carrying a mango this week,” he announced one morning.
What does that even mean?” I asked, brushing my teeth.
He grinned. “It means you’re growing a delicious tropical fruit. Be proud.”
Some nights, he’d rest his head on my belly and whisper stories to the baby. One night, I caught him telling the baby to always protect their mom because she was “the strongest woman alive.”
pretended to be asleep. But I cried.
The delivery came faster than expected. I was seven days early, in the middle of organizing a new exhibit launch. One strong contraction and my knees buckled. Julian, who was giving a
ress interview downstairs, dropped everything the moment he got the call.
At the hospital, everything felt like a blur–lights, doctors, pain.
You’re doing amazing,” Julian kept saying, holding my hand so tightly.
‘Liar,” I muttered, trying not to pass out.
Then, after hours of pain and pushing, there it was–the softest cry. The nurse placed a tiny baby On my chest.
‘It’s a girl,” she whispered.
Julian kissed my forehead, then looked down at our daughter. “Hi, little miracle,” he whispered Voice breaking. “I’m your dad.”
The weight of everything I had gone through–every betrayal, heartbreak, fear–faded. In that noment, all I felt was peace.
Ne named her Solene.
t meant “sunlight“-because that’s what she brought into my life.
Our honeymoon phase extended into diaper duty and midnight feedings, but Julian made it beautiful. He changed diapers with designer gloves as a joke. He serenaded Solene with ullabies horribly out of tune. And on our anniversary, he surprised me with a painting studio built inside our home.
‘I know you said you’d give up painting for now,” he said. “But I think you should never stop doing what you love.”
stared at the canvas and brushes. “Julian…”
He kissed my hand. “No more faking anything, Alicia. This–everything we have–is real.”
Looking back now, I don’t regret walking away from Denver. From the estate. From everything.
I had to lose everything first… to find the pieces that mattered.
To find me.
And now, with Julian’s arms around me and Solene’s tiny fingers curled around mine, I knew- was finally home.
