CHAPTER 231: CHAPTER 231 RETURN TO LONDON

Serena’s POV

My stomach was in knots as our plane descended toward London. This wasn’t just any trip back to England—this was potentially life-changing. I kept my gaze fixed on the clouds outside the window, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

What if I see them and remember everything at once? What if I don’t remember anything at all? Which would be worse?

The questions swirled in my head like a tornado. Ryan’s hand covered mine, his thumb making gentle circles against my skin.

"You’re trembling," he whispered, leaning close.

"Just nervous," I admitted, turning to face him. "What if they expect someone different? What if I’m not the Serena they remember?"

Ryan’s eyes softened. "They’ll love you for who you are now. And if they don’t..." He squeezed my hand. "Then they don’t deserve you."

Ethan had been on his phone since we landed, coordinating with his—our—sisters. Just thinking the word "sisters" sent another wave of anxiety through me. I’d gone from being alone in the world to suddenly having siblings, parents, an entire family history I couldn’t remember.

"Eleanor and Zoe are waiting at arrivals," Ethan announced, pocketing his phone and giving me a reassuring smile.

I tried to return it but my lips felt stiff. Walking through Heathrow felt like marching toward my own execution, each step heavier than the last. The rational part of my brain knew this was ridiculous—these people were my family, not my enemies. But the knot in my stomach only tightened.

"They’re going to be emotional," Ethan warned me quietly as we approached the exit. "Especially Eleanor. But I’ve told them not to overwhelm you."

I nodded, grateful for his thoughtfulness. Ryan’s hand moved to the small of my back, his presence solid and reassuring.

"I’m right here," he murmured, seeming to sense my growing panic. "Every step of the way, remember?"

I took a deep breath and stepped through the doors into the arrivals area. Almost immediately, I spotted two elegant women standing apart from the crowd. Even from a distance, something about them seemed familiar in a way I couldn’t explain—not a memory, exactly, but a feeling, like recognizing a song you’ve heard in another life.

"Eleanor, Zoe, we’re here!" Ethan called, waving.

The taller woman—Eleanor—looked our way, and her face transformed. Her eyes immediately welled up with tears as she rushed forward.

"Serena," she choked out, "after all these years, you’re finally home."

Before I could prepare myself, she had wrapped me in a fierce hug. The scent of her perfume—something floral and expensive—triggered nothing in my memory, but her embrace felt oddly right, like coming home after a long journey.

"Several years without seeing you, and you’ve changed so much," Zoe said, her voice steadier than Eleanor’s but with a slight tremor betraying her emotion.

"Eleanor, careful—she’s pregnant," Ethan reminded her, and Eleanor immediately loosened her grip.

"I’m sorry," she said, wiping away tears. "I’m just so emotional. Let’s get you home, and we can talk properly."

I nodded, unable to find my voice. These women were my sisters. I had sisters. The reality of it was finally sinking in, and I felt simultaneously terrified and curious.

Then Zoe’s attention shifted to Ryan, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"So you’re Ryan? The man who kept our sister hidden for three years?" Her tone was sharp, accusatory.

Ryan’s expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "Is that how Ethan described the situation?"

"Absolutely not!" Ethan quickly interjected, looking horrified. "I never said it like that!"

"Listen, becoming part of the Quinn family isn’t that simple," she said, crossing her arms. Then she turned to me, her expression softening. "Serena, don’t let anyone sweet-talk you while you’re vulnerable. Let’s go home first."

She took my hand, pulling me gently toward her, away from Ryan. I felt caught between worlds—the family I couldn’t remember and the man who had become my anchor.

"Ryan and I—" I started to explain, but Ryan interrupted with a small shake of his head.

"They’re right," he said calmly. "Earning the right to be your husband isn’t something simple. And your sisters are just protecting you, as they should."

I kept quiet as Ryan spoke, his words warming something deep inside me.

"I’m willing to be examined by the Quinn family in the coming days."

The sincerity in his voice touched me.

"We’ll discuss this when we get home," Ethan cut in, looking exasperated. "Eleanor, Zoe, could you please tone it down?"

It was amusing to see my newly discovered little brother—apparently a powerful figure in the business world—transform into this pleading puppy in front of our sisters. His attempts at mediation carried an obvious undercurrent of trying to stay in their good graces.

"Fine," Eleanor finally conceded with a sigh. "Serena, let’s get in the car."

As our convoy headed toward the Quinn family estate, my sisters wasted no time with their interrogation. Question after question about my life these past years flew at me from both sides.

I carefully edited my responses, skipping over those miserable years after marriage, focusing instead on the positive aspects—my design work, my friends, my recent reconnection with Ryan. I wanted to keep things light, to avoid causing any more tension than there already was.

"You’re painting quite the rosy picture," Zoe interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "If things were so wonderful between you and Mr. Blackwood, why did you divorce him? I heard you were secretly married before splitting up."

Her question hit like a punch to the gut. My smile froze, and I felt the atmosphere in the car instantly thicken. Ryan’s hand found mine, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"That’s in the past," Ryan answered before I could. "Serena and I had some misunderstandings. I’ve been working to make amends."

Eleanor let out a cold snort. "Must have been quite the ’misunderstanding.’ Let me guess—with Blackwood’s empire and wealth, there were other women involved? Infidelity during marriage?"

"Absolutely not," Ryan’s response was immediate, his jaw tightening. I could feel the tension radiating from him.

"All men are the same," Zoe declared, crossing her arms. "Serena wouldn’t have ended a marriage without serious cause. She’s too forgiving by nature." She turned to me, her expression softening. "Though honestly, Serena, marrying him just because he rescued you was ridiculous to begin with. This isn’t some medieval fairy tale where you owe your rescuer your hand in marriage."

I watched Ryan absorbing each barb in silence. What could he say? We both knew that during those early years of marriage, he’d been a husband in name only.

"Don’t worry, Serena," Eleanor reached across to pat my knee. "Now that you’re back with the Quinn family, you’ll have us backing you up. Nobody will dare mistreat you again."

The threatening glare she shot at Ryan couldn’t have been more obvious if she’d pointed a finger at him.

"You’ve all got it wrong," I finally interjected, feeling increasingly frustrated. "Nobody’s mistreating me. What happened between us is in the past. I’ve moved beyond it."

"Of course you ’moved beyond it’—you were alone in New York without family support!" Zoe exclaimed. "If you’d been known as the Quinn family’s third daughter, I guarantee nobody would have dared treat you that way!"

I sighed and gave up trying to explain. There was no point arguing when they’d already made up their minds about Ryan. Instead, I turned to look out the window, watching the unfamiliar yet somehow nostalgic English countryside roll by. How strange to feel connection to a place I couldn’t remember.