OLIVIA’S POV

I got a text the moment I stepped out of the shower. Still wrapped in my towel, I padded across the cold marble floor of my bedroom and picked bup /bbthe /bphone from the nightstand. The screen lit up with Damien’s name.

“Meet you at the airport, as usual.”

That was all it said. Short, straight to the point. I didn’t bother replying. Not because I was upset–but because I didn’t have the energy to pretend I was in the mood for small talk.

I dropped the phone back on the table and turned toward therge mirror that hung on the wall. My reflection stared back at me–eyes tired despite the few hours of sleep I managed to catch, hair slightly damp from the steam of my shower, lips pressed together in a thoughtful line.

Today was the day. I was leaving Mexico.

I was going back to New York.

The thought sent a mix of nerves and anticipation down my spine. So much had changed in five years. I had changed. But New York… New York still held memories I wasn’t ready to face.

I checked the clock on the wall. 4:00 a.m. sharp.

I had chosen this early departure for a reason. In just a few hours, Charlie woulde bounding through those doors in his usual excitement, looking for me like he did every morning. I didn’t want him to see me leaving. I couldn’t bear that look on his face

So I was slipping out before dawn, just like I nned. I had already told him I was leaving and we were on the same page so he would get over it.

I sat down at the vanity table and picked up my brush. The strands were too damp to do anything fancy, and my hairstylist wouldn’t arrive for another two hours. So I parted my hair with care and twisted it up into a sleek bunb, /bsecuring it tightly with pins. No need for mour–this trip was business.

I stood, reached for the dress I hadid out earlier–an elegant, cream–colored two–piece suit with gold detailing–and slipped it on. It hugged me perfectly, exuding ss, confidence, and the kind of quiet power I’d spent years building. I spritzed a hint of perfume and turned toward the door.

Then my phone rang.

“ra,” I said into the speaker, but instead of answering, she walked iinto /ithe room a momentter

“Good morning, ma’amb,/b” she greeted with a slight bow.

“Good morning. I’m ready to leave,” I replied, adjusting the cor of my coat. “Tell the butler to take these into the car.” I gesture coordinated luggage, already lined up by the door.

ra gave me a nod and turned on her heels, exiting the room to give the instructions.

I followed behind her, but instead of heading to the front door, I made a quiet detour.

I had onest stop to make.

Charlie’s roomb. /b

ard bmy /bset of

I pushed his door open gently, careful not to let the hinges creak. The soft glow of his nightlight illuminated bthe /bthemed walls–covered bwith /bbcartoon /bbcars /band framed drawings he’d proudly brought home from school. Hey curled in his race car bed, nket tucked up bto /bbhis /bchin, bmouth /bbslightly /bbopen /bbin /bdeep sleep. His favorite plush lion was nestled tightly in his arms.

My heart ached.

I walked over gently, each step measured so I wouldn’t wake him. The soft hush of the air conditioner was the only sound bin /bbthe /bbroom /bbas /bI bneared /bbhis /bbbed/bb. /bThere he was–Charlie, my baby, breathing slowly, his chest rising and falling peacefully. I knelt beside him, brushing a bstray /bcurl baway /bbfrom /bbhis /bbforehead/b. His skin was warm, and his innocence radiated so brightly it tugged at my heart.

Leaning in, I pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and whispered, “I’m sorry I’m leaving without saying goodbye, baby. Mommy will be back soon, bokay/bbi? /i/bbBe /bba /bgood boy. I love you so much.”

I lingered there for a moment, watching his eyelids flutter as if he could sense I was close. My throat tightened. If I stayed any longer, I bmight /bbreak down and wake him up with my tears, and I didn’t want that. I didn’t want him to cry or beg me not to go. So, with a deep breathb, /bI turned around quietly band /bwalked out of the room.

As I gently closed the door behind me, I paused in the hallway and rested my hand on the handle. Leaving him like this wasn’t easy. It never would bbe/b. But this trip–was bigger than just me.

The butler had already finished loading all the luggage into the car, so there was only one thing left to do before departure. I headed toward the bkitchen/bb, /bwhere the soft clinks of cups and utensils could be heard. As I entered, the five maids standing by the long marble counter immediately straightened and gave a synchronized bow.

“Good morning, madam,” they all said in unison.

I gave them a small nod, then called out, “Rosa, pleasee here.”

The head maid, a woman in herte forties with kind eyes and a no–nonsense demeanor, stepped forward.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now that I’m leaving, I want you to take care of Charlie. Anything he wants, give it to him. Make sure he’s neverte to school. Keep me updated if anything happens–no matter how small. Is that understood?”

Rosa gave a firm nod. “Of course, ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

“I trust you,” I said, cing a hand briefly on her shoulder before turning around and walking out of the kitchen.

The sky outside was still dark, a deep indigo with hints of fading stars. The air smelled of early morning dew, and everything was quiet except for the low hum of the convoy engines waiting outside. I stepped out of the front door, and ba /bcold breeze brushed my skin. My long coat pped gently as I walked down the steps and entered the sleek ck car waiting for me.

The convoy rolled smoothly through the streets of Mexico City, barely encountering traffic at that early hour. Before long, we reached the private airport terminal. The car drove straight to the hangar where my jet was parkedb. /bBright floodlights bathed the tarmac in gold.

And just like a memory ying out in real–time, I saw Damien.

He stood beside the jet with that same signature smile–confident, easy–going, and annoyingly charming. One hand was in his po gesturing dramatically like he was greeting royalty.

“Mydyi,/ii” /ihe said with a yful bow.

he bother /b

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged bat /bmy lips. “You’re still so dramatic,” I said, stepping out of bthe /bcar and bwalking /btoward bhim /b

b“/bbIt’s /bba /bgift,” he replied with a wink, following me up the steps into the jet.

bThe /bluxurious cabin was warmly lit and smelled faintly bof /bcedarwood and citrus. bThe /bsame bscent /bI always had bsprayed /bbefore long bflights/b.

As I took bmy /bseat by bthe /bwindowb, /bbthe /bengines started humming softly in bthe /bbbackground/b. Damien bsettled /bbinto /bbthe /bbseat /bacross bfrom /bbme/bb, /bbpulling /bbout /bbhis /bphoneb, /balready tapping away bat /bsomething.

2

bI /bblooked /bbout /bbthe /bwindow, thinking about Charlie again. bI /bbhoped /bthe toys bI /bbgot /bbhim /bbyesterday /bbwould /bbkeep /bbhim /bbbusy/bb. /bI bhoped /bbhe /bbwouldn’t /bbwake /bup band /bka

too balone/bb. /b

09:26 bSun/bb, /bb6 /bbJul /bG & bM /b

“You okay?” Damien asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” I replied, nodding slowly. “Just thinking.”

He gave me a knowing look, then leaned back with a grin. “At least we don’t need to get you a bowl this time, right?”

I gave him a side nce. “Very funny, Damien.”

I shook my head, smiling faintly. The jet was already pulling out of the hangar. We were officially en route.

Back to New York.

Back to the city where everything started.

– ? ??? ??