Two weeks had passed since Caliste's heart stopped and came back again. The world outside her hospital room moved on, but inside, time stood still.
The nurses whispered about her — how she barely spoke, how she spent hours staring out the window at the rain.
The once vibrant Caliste Winslow had turned into a fragile silhouette of her former self.
Lucian still came every day.
But not inside the room.
He stood by the window in the hallway, watching her through the glass panels. Sometimes she would lift her gaze and catch his reflection — then look away.
And every time, it felt like another blade twisting in his chest.
---
"Mr. Velmore," Dr. Han said one morning, approaching him carefully, "she's stable enough to be discharged. But emotionally… she's still not ready to face the world alone."
Lucian nodded, his voice low. "Then make the arrangements. Send her to the Winslow estate. She'll be safer there."
Dr. Han hesitated. "She doesn't want to go back there, sir."
Lucian frowned. "Then where?"
"She mentioned… somewhere quiet. Away from the city. She said she wanted peace."
Lucian thought for a moment, then turned to Elias, who stood silently behind him. "Prepare my villa in Estrella Valley. Have the staff ready by dawn. Everything she needs — food, medicine, nurses, security. But tell them…"
He paused, the words heavy.
"Tell them she must never know I arranged it."
Elias nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."
Lucian exhaled deeply, looking through the glass again. Caliste was talking softly with Caelum, her smile faint and forced — the kind that carried more pain than comfort.
He whispered, almost to himself, "At least she's smiling again…"
---
The next day, Caliste was released from the hospital. Caelum accompanied her to the villa, unaware that every step of the journey had been cleared and guarded by Lucian's silent orders.
The house stood on a hill surrounded by gardens — peaceful, secluded, kissed by the morning sun.
Caliste looked around, confused. "Who owns this place?"
Caelum shrugged lightly. "A friend of Dr. Han, I think. He said it's for your recovery."
She nodded, too weak to question further, and entered.
---
That night, Lucian stood outside the gates of Estrella Valley, hidden in the shadows of the trees.
From where he stood, he could see the warm glow from her window.
He watched her figure move behind the curtains — fragile, graceful, distant.
"She'll may not easily forgive you," Caelum said softly beside him. "But you're still here."
Lucian's lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. "I don't need forgiveness. I just need her safe."
He turned, the moonlight glinting against his pale eyes. Signal Elias and intructed him.
"Keep the security discreet. No reports unless something happens. I don't want her to feel watched."
Elias nodded, hesitated, then added, "Sir… if she ever learns it was you who arranged all this—"
Lucian cut him off quietly. "She won't. And even if she does, it's better she hates me than remembers the pain I caused."
He looked one last time at her window before stepping into his car.
As the engine started, he whispered the same words he once told her in their happiest days — words that now felt like a curse he'd written himself.
> "I'll always protect you, even if it means staying away."
The sun hung low over the sprawling gardens of Estrella Villa, bathing the estate in a soft amber glow. The air was still, the kind of calm that comes after too many storms.
Caliste sat by the terrace, dressed in a simple cream dress, her hair loosely tied back. The faint scent of tea drifted from the table beside her. She had been quieter these days — gentler, steadier. The doctors said she was finally stable, and it showed. Her eyes, though shadowed by everything she had lost, were no longer lifeless.
From the gate, the sound of an engine approached. Caliste lifted her head slightly, frowning in curiosity. The moment the black Velmore car stopped and Lucian stepped out, her heart skipped a beat.
He looked different — casual yet composed, wearing a dark shirt with sleeves rolled up, the ruggedness of his jaw softened by exhaustion. In his hand, he carried something small.
Lucian met her gaze for a brief moment before turning toward the car again. The back door opened, and a small figure climbed out — Lucca, clutching his stuffed wolf, eyes wide as he took in the garden.
Caliste froze. Her hand trembled slightly as she rose from her chair. "Lucca…" she whispered, her voice barely holding.
Lucian guided the boy forward, his tone low. "There's someone you need to meet, son."
The boy tilted his head, confused. "Who is she, Dad?"
Lucian paused for a moment, his throat tight. His gaze softened, then he said quietly, "She's your mother."
Caliste's lips parted, but no sound came. Her tears fell freely, blurring her vision as she knelt, arms open. "Come here, sweetheart."
Lucca stared for a second, hesitant — then slowly, he took a step toward her. And another. Until he was in her arms, his small hands clutching her tightly.
The warmth of his little body pressed against her chest shattered every wall she had built. Caliste sobbed quietly, holding him as though she feared he might vanish if she let go.
Lucian stood still, watching them. For the first time in a long time, his heart felt both heavy and light.
When Caliste finally looked up, her face was wet with tears but smiling — a soft, genuine smile that reached her eyes.
"Thank you… for bringing him here," she whispered.
Lucian nodded faintly. "He's been asking about his mother for a while now. I thought it was time he knew."
Lucca, still in her arms, looked up at Lucian. "Can I stay here with Mom?"
The question caught them both off guard. Caliste's breath hitched. She looked at Lucian carefully, waiting for his answer.
Lucian crouched beside them, brushing Lucca's hair back. "If that's what your mother wants."
Caliste swallowed hard, her voice trembling. "I'd love that. If… if it's okay."
Lucian's gaze lingered on her face — fragile but sincere. "Then stay," he said simply. "You both belong here."
A quiet silence followed, filled only by the rustle of the wind through the trees.
Lucca ran off toward the garden, laughing, his tiny footsteps echoing through the grass. Caliste stood, watching him with wonder. "He's grown so much," she murmured, her tone a mix of awe and guilt.
Her eyes glistened again, but she smiled faintly. "Then maybe… it's not too late."
Lucian didn't reply. He only watched her — the woman he had once lost and was still trying to understand.
As the sun dipped lower behind the hills, painting the villa in gold and rose, Caliste turned to him once more.
"Would it be alright if I took care of him here for a while?"
Lucian nodded slowly. "Of course. You need this time with him."
"And you?" she asked softly.
He exhaled, glancing away. "I'll visit when I can. But for now… this is where you both should be."
Caliste nodded, her heart swelling with both gratitude and ache.
When Lucian finally turned to leave, she called out quietly, "Lucian."
He paused at the door.
"Thank you," she said again, her voice steady this time. "For giving me this chance."
He didn't turn around, but a faint smile crossed his face.
"You deserved it a long time ago," he murmured — and then he walked away, the fading light catching on the edge of his silhouette as he disappeared down the path.
Caliste stood on the terrace long after he was gone, watching Lucca play among the flowers — the child she once lost, now found again.
And for the first time in years, she felt something close to peace.