Sweet Moments
I turned to him sharply, the words leaving my mouth before I could stop them. “No, you don’t. You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. You’re a billionaire with more resources than you know what to do with. What could you possibly know about loss?”
His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re right,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. But I’ve lost more than you think.”
I frowned, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his tone. “Like what?”
“My parents,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something deeper. “When I was younger. And not just in the way you’d expect. I lost them in a way that took years to unravel. They were taken from me—brutally. And I was left to piece myself back together while the world expected me to carry their legacy.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me.
“And then the accident,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the ground. “I lost pieces of myself. Memories. People I might have cared about, people I might have hurt. It’s like staring at a puzzle with missing pieces, and no matter how hard you try, the picture never comes together.”
I looked at him, studying his profile. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by something raw and human.
“You think I don’t understand loss?” he asked, turning to meet my gaze. “I hate it sometimes. The not knowing. The guilt of it all.”
I bit my lip, unsure how to respond.
“I wake up some days,” he went on, “and I wonder who I was before the accident. Who I hurt. Who I loved. And whether it even matters now that I can’t remember.”
“It matters,” I said quietly, surprising myself.
He looked at me, his expression unreadable. “Does it?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Even if you don’t remember, it doesn’t erase what you did. The choices you made. Those things still matter.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Then what do I do with that? The people I might have hurt—how do I make amends for something I don’t even remember doing?”
I hesitated, my chest tightening as I thought about my own pain, the scars he didn’t even know he’d left on me. “You can start by being better now. By taking responsibility for the person you are today.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the ground. “That’s easier said than done.”
“I never said it would be easy,” I replied.
The silence stretched between us, thick with emotions neither of us wanted to name.
“Clara’s lucky to have you,” he said after a moment. “You fight for the people you care about.”
I glanced at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”
“It is,” he said simply.
I looked away, blinking back tears. “Why are you even here, Rowan? What do you want from me?”
He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer. But then he said, “I don’t know. Maybe to understand. Maybe to... apologize to the people I’ve hurt, even if I don’t remember why.”
His words hung in the air, and I felt a pang of something I couldn’t quite name. He wasn’t the man I’d known all those years ago. Or maybe he was, and I was just seeing a different side of him now.
“I don’t hate you, you know,” I said finally, my voice soft.
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t think you did.”
I gave him a weak smile. “You annoy me. You infuriate me sometimes. But I don’t hate you.”
He chuckled softly, the sound almost bitter. “Well, that’s something.”
The moment between us felt fragile, like it could shatter at any second. But for now, it held, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like we were seeing each other—really seeing each other.
“Thank you,” I said quietly, wrapping the jacket tighter around me.
“For what?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
“For this. For… understanding, even if it’s just a little.”
He nodded, his gaze softening. “Anytime, Remi. Anytime.”
For a moment, there was silence. His hand twitched, and I saw it—a subtle movement like he was about to reach for my face. I froze, unsure of what I’d do if he actually touched me. But then he stopped himself, letting his hand drop to his side as a voice pierced through the quiet.
“Mummy!”
I turned, startled, to see Larry and Laura running toward me in their school uniforms, their faces alight with excitement. Behind them was Jo, grinning like she’d just won a game.
“Why are you here?” I asked, glancing between them.
“We came to see you!” Laura declared proudly, stopping in her tracks when she spotted Rowan. Her eyes widened, and she pointed at him dramatically. “Handsome Uncle!”
My stomach flipped, heat rushing to my face. “Laura—”
Before I could say anything else, Laura skipped right past me and straight to Rowan. “Hi, Handsome Uncle!” she chirped, standing on her tiptoes like she wanted him to notice her more.
Rowan blinked, looking between me and Laura, and then a slow, amused smile spread across his face. “Well, hello, Laura.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said quickly, my cheeks burning. “They’re...enthusiastic.”
Rowan chuckled, his laugh low and warm. “It’s fine, Remi.”
Then, to my absolute horror, he crouched down, lifting Laura into his arms with ease. “What are you up to today, Miss Laura?” he asked, twirling her around.
Laura squealed with delight, her giggles echoing in the corridor. “You’re so strong, Handsome Uncle!”
Something in my chest stirred as I watched them, an unfamiliar feeling that made my throat tighten. I shook it off, focusing instead on Larry, who was hovering by my side, looking a little shy.
Rowan noticed him too, setting Laura down gently before turning to Larry. “What about you, Larry? Want a turn?”
Larry hesitated, his cheeks pink. “Me too?”
“Of course,” Rowan said, holding out his arms.
Larry’s face lit up, and he stepped forward. Rowan lifted him effortlessly, spinning him around as Larry’s laughter joined his sister’s. Jo, standing nearby, clapped her hands like an excited child herself.
“That’s adorable,” she said with a grin.
“Jo,” I snarled, glaring at her. “Go back to work.”
She winked at me. “Sure thing, boss,” she said, sauntering off, her laughter trailing behind her.
Rowan set Larry down, straightening up with a smile. “They’re great kids, Remi,” he said, his tone genuine.
“They’re a handful,” I muttered, brushing Larry’s hair back.
“They’re supposed to be,” Rowan said, crouching down to their level. “So, what do you two like to do at school?”
“I’m good at math!” Larry announced proudly.
“I believe that,” Rowan said with a nod. “Maybe you’ll come work for me one day, huh?”
Larry’s eyes widened. “Really? I can work for you?”
“Absolutely,” Rowan said, smiling. “We always need smart people like you.”
“I’m intwelligent too!” Laura piped up, crossing her arms.
“It’s intelligent,” Larry corrected, rolling his eyes.
Laura stuck out her tongue. “Whatever. I want to be a celebrity anyway. On TV!”
Rowan laughed, his shoulders shaking as he looked between them. “A celebrity, huh? Well, I’ll make sure to watch every show you’re in, Laura.”
She grinned, clearly satisfied. “Good! I’ll be famous.”
They continued to chat, their banter easy and warm. It was strange, watching Rowan interact with them like this. He wasn’t the cold, distant man I’d grown used to. With them, he was…different.
Eventually, it was time to say goodbye. Larry and Laura hugged me tightly, and then, to my surprise, Laura threw her arms around Rowan too.
“Bye, Handsome Uncle!” she said cheerfully.
“Bye, Laura. Bye, Larry,” Rowan said, his voice soft.
As they walked away, Laura turned back, her big eyes wide with curiosity. “Mummy?”
“Yes, Laura?” I said, already dreading whatever was about to come out of her mouth.
“Will you marry Handsome Uncle one day?” she asked, tilting her head innocently.
I froze, the question hanging in the air like a bomb. Rowan’s expression was unreadable, but his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile.
“Laura,” I said firmly, my voice a little higher than usual. “That’s not… No. Just no.”
“But why not?” she asked, her face scru
nching up in confusion.
“Because grown-ups don’t work that way,” I said, ushering her down the hall as fast as I could.
Behind me, Rowan chuckled.
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