Chapter 8

Annie's POV

"Stop!" My voice echoed through the dusty photography studio as my arms were still wrapped around Howard from behind. His fist was already drawn back for another blow, Robert's unconscious form slumped against the wall. "He wasn't going to hurt me!"

Howard's muscles tensed beneath my grip. "But I heard it on the phone.I assumed he was trying to rape you."

"Not all of it, apparently. We talked it through. And it was Philip who drugged and brought me here." I tightened my hold, shaking off my inappropriate thoughts at a time like this. "Robert... he's just another one of Sarah's victims."

Howard turned to face me, a slight confusion on his composed face "Should we call the police?"

"No, he's a nice man. He didn't hurt Brian," I met Howard's gaze steadily.

“How do you know?”

"He took him to the museum. And he loves his son, Max. There's a photo of his son on the table. What's more, if he'd really meant harm, I would have called the police, not you."

A shadow crossed Howard's face. He seemed a bit disappointed.

Howard let go of Robert. "That's very smart of you." He said to me, his controlled voice softening as he turned to face me. Our eyes met,and something shifted in the dusty air between us. The blend of tobacco and cologne that I'd noticed earlier wrapped around me again, steadying my nerves even as it made my heart flutter unexpectedly.

"I'm not smart," I jolted out of my trance. "but I am amother."The words caught in my throat. "I was..."

"You can still be if you want." Howard interrupted firmly.

Howard had dropped me at the apartment that used to be my home.

It felt hollow when I entered. Gladly, I found no one at home. Maybe they were in some fancy restaurant, celebrating their victory.

Divorce papers I saw waited on the dining table like a tombstone marking the death of my marriage. Of course Philip would want to get rid of me so quickly, right after what he thought I would've been through.

My belongings sat packed by the door, a life reduced to a few boxes and bags.

I signed the papers without hesitation, my pen moving swiftly across the dotted line. Each signature felt like breaking another chain,setting me free from a life built on lies.

As I gathered the last of my things, I took one final look around. This place had never truly been home - I saw that clearly now. It had been a stage for Philip's performance, a cage gilded with luxury but empty of love. I wanted nothing to do with this family, with that man. Supposedly, I wouldn't sue him for what he had done. And the evidence would be hard to gather anyway. I just wanted to get rid of this place as soon as possible. I turned off the lights and strode downstairs where Howard was waiting for me, each step steadier than the last.

As I got in the car, he said firmly, "I think we need a talk." His voice carried that distinctive controlled warmth I was beginning to recognize.

I nodded, heart pounding in my chest. "Okay."

"I heard everything on the phone. Your conversation with Robert and...about what has befallen you."

My mind raced with questions I didn't dare ask. What did he really think of me? A divorced mother, someone else's castoff, damaged goods with more baggage than any sensible man would want to deal with.

I snuck a glance at his profile, then immediately looked away, scolding myself for the way my heart skipped. Why should his opinion matter so much? I'd only met him a handful of times. And yet... The thought of him pitying me, or worse, regretting his offer to help with Lucy, made my stomach twist.

I caught myself mid-thought and almost laughed at the absurdity. Howard turned to me, his gaze sincere despite the shadow of restraint that seemed to follow him everywhere. "I mean, I don't mind your past.What impressed me was your composure today-staying calm in crisis,using wisdom to defuse it." He paused, something gentler entering his voice. "And your compassion in forgiving Robert... that shows remarkable strength." The air in the car grew warmer. Howard took a deepbreath,and when he spoke again, his voice caried a note of hope that made my heart skip. "So I'd like ask you to move in, to be Lucy's mother. What do you say?" I dissolved into a hearty smile. "I'm in."

Howard's Long Island mansion was everything my former home wasn't-spacious yet warm, modern yet inviting. And Lucy's bedroom was a fairy-tale dream, all soft colors and gentle light.

"Lucy," I said softly, kneeling beside her bed. "I know things are hard right now. But if you'd let me, I'dlike to stay and take care of you."

She remained silent, her eyes fixed on the pastel butterflies dancing across her bedspread. My heart sank a little, though I'd expected as much. I stood slowly, smoothing my skirt.

"Well, I'll just-"

A small hand shot out, catching mine. Lucy's fingers were impossibly delicate, yet they held on with surprising strength. When I looked back,she gave a tiny, decisive nod.

My throat tightened as I settled back beside her bed. "Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?"

Another small nod. I began humming softly, an old lullaby my mother used to sing. Lucy's grip gradually relaxed as her breathing deepened into sleep, though her fingers remained loosely twined with mine. As I carefully extracted my hand, that now-familiar blend of tobacco and cologne wrapped around me. I turned to find Howard in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame. The warm light from the hallway caught his profile, highlighting the controlled set of his jaw that contrasted so sharply with his sunny features. "She needs time," Howard said quietly, his voice carrying that measured warmth that made my heart skip. "But that's more than she's done with anyone else."

I watched Lucy's peaceful sleeping form, questions swirling in my mind. "Do you know why?" I finally asked. "Why she specifically wanted me to..."I trailed off, still uncertain how to phrase my role in this arrangement.

Howard shifted in the doorway, his elegant fingers drumming absently against the frame. The hallway light caught in his carefully trimmed beard,and I found myself noticing how the shadows played across his features.

No, Annie. This was not the time.

"I wish I knew," he said softly. "She barely speaks - hasn't really,since..."He exhaled slowly. "If she would just talk to us, everything would be so much simpler."

Another waft of his cologne - that intoxicating blend of tobacco and something warmer - made my pulse quicken. I needed to focus,to break this charged moment before I did something foolish.

"Howard," I said, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I have an idea."