“Enough!” Lucas’s voice cut through the air, sharp and strained. “I decide what’s best for my own life! And regarding Isabella, your interference is neither needed nor welcome.”

He turned on his heel and stormed out, leaving Eleanor Grant alone on the sofa, utterly stunned.

She watched her son’s retreating back, a whirlwind of emotions churning inside her. She knew that stubborn set of his shoulders. He wouldn’t be backing down.

Rubbing her temples, a deep exhaustion settled over her. She closed her eyes, but her mind raced relentlessly.

The Grant family was not like other families. Their traditions were set in stone, unyielding. How could a single mother, no matter how extraordinary, ever hope to be accepted into that world?

Even if she could somehow come to terms with it, what about Lucas’s father? His grandfather? Would they ever be able to look past Isabella’s history?

Isabella walked hand-in-hand with Liam, his small frame bouncing with energy beside her. In her other hand, she carried a thermal food jar, a gift from Eleanor Vance. Her expression was one of calm contentment.

“Mommy,” Liam chirped, his wide, curious eyes looking up at her. “When is Mr. Lucas coming to play with us again?”

A soft chuckle escaped Isabella. She gently ruffled his hair. “Mr. Lucas is a very busy man, sweetheart. But I’m sure he’ll find time to visit again soon.”

As they approached their apartment building, a figure at the entrance made her steps falter. Lucas stood there, as if he’d been waiting. Dressed in a simple white shirt, he looked effortlessly handsome, his presence both striking and unexpectedly comforting.

Seeing them, his face broke into a warm smile. He approached, his voice filled with genuine warmth. “Isabella. Liam.”

The moment Liam spotted him, he broke free from Isabella’s grasp. “Mr. Lucas!” he called out, dashing forward on his little legs, excitement bubbling over.

Lucas bent down gracefully, scooping the boy high into the air. Liam’s pure, joyful laughter echoed around the quiet courtyard.

“Well, well,” Lucas teased, his voice playful. “Someone’s excited. Did you miss me, champ?”

Liam nodded vigorously, his small body practically vibrating with happiness. “I did! Can you play with me today?”

Lucas’s gaze flickered to Isabella, his expression softening. “I need to talk with your mom for a little bit first, okay? Can you go play over there for a while?”

A flicker of disappointment crossed Liam’s face, but he nodded obediently. He slid from Lucas’s arms and scampered off toward the secure playground nearby.

Once the boy was out of earshot, Lucas turned to Isabella. His expression was tinged with guilt. “Isabella,” he began, his voice low and careful. “We need to talk.”

Her eyes met his. A flicker of uncertainty passed through them before she gave a quiet, resigned nod. She had felt it, too. Some things could no longer remain unspoken.

They moved to a bench beside a vibrant flowerbed and sat. The air between them grew heavy, charged with all the words left unsaid.