Six Years Later

TESSA

"That will be eight dollars." The teenage girl behind the counter spoke in a flat monotone, never bothering to look up from the bright register screen.

I handed over a ten-dollar bill, collected my change, and carefully grabbed our frozen treats. Stepping out of the short line, I made way for the cluster of impatient customers standing behind us. We came to this small park stand every single sunny afternoon. From the exact moment my daughter decided ice cream was her favorite thing in the universe, it became our little tradition.

"Here you go, sweetie. One salted caramel for me, and one cotton candy for you. Enjoy."

"Thank you, Mommy!"

I handed Ivy her pink cone and braced myself for the reaction. A massive, splitting grin took over her small face. Her bright eyes sparkled with pure, unfiltered joy as she immediately pressed her tongue against the cold sugar. Seeing that look hit me right in the chest. That right there was my ultimate weak point. I worked my fingers to the bone, enduring long hours and aching feet, just to keep that innocent smile firmly planted on her face.

Getting to this point had been a brutal, exhausting climb.

Six years ago, I made a choice born out of pure desperation. It was supposed to be a simple transaction—one night of mind-blowing sex with a gorgeous stranger to help me forget the crushing heartbreak of catching my fiancé cheating. I sneaked out of his massive bed before sunrise, leaving him fast asleep, convinced I could walk away and restart my life. Instead, I left that penthouse carrying a secret that altered my destiny forever.

I loved my daughter with my whole heart and thanked God every day for bringing her to me. But the beginning tested my sanity. Mason's betrayal cut deep, but the true nightmare started when he discovered I was pregnant. Instead of taking responsibility for ruining our relationship, Mason fabricated a sickening web of vicious lies. He played the devastated victim for our families. He claimed I was the one who had been sleeping around behind his back, and he spun the narrative to make my pregnancy the ultimate proof of my infidelity.

The lies destroyed everything. I expected Mason to be cruel, but my parents' reaction gutted me. They adored Mason. He came from money, had a respectable job, and they bought his fake tears without a shred of doubt. They did not even pause to hear my side of the story. They took the word of a lying, cheating scumbag over their own flesh and blood. In the blink of an eye, they cut all ties with me, packing my bags and locking the door behind me.

My life shattered into a million sharp pieces. I found myself alone, broke, and pregnant in the middle of New York. Providing the financial stability a child needed felt like an impossible mountain to climb. My bakery, Praline, barely made enough money to keep the lights on back then. Rent prices in the city swallowed every dime I earned. I had no safety net, no family to lean on, and zero emotional support. Terminating the pregnancy would have been the practical choice, but I could not do it. Looking at the ultrasound, I knew this baby was the only true family I had left.

Valerie stepped into the chaos and saved my life. Val came in like a blessing when the world turned its back on me. I could never repay the sheer amount of support she gave me during those dark months. Val packed up my meager belongings and moved me into her own apartment, flat-out refusing to let me pay a dime of the rent. She held my hand through the panic attacks and the endless tears. I still smile remembering the day Ivy was born. Val strutted into the maternity ward holding a smuggled bottle of champagne, earning a fierce scowl from a cranky old nurse.

By the time Ivy turned two, Praline finally found its footing. The display cases started emptying out before noon, and real profits started rolling into my bank account. I decided it was time to stand on my own two feet and move out. Convincing Val proved to be a nightmare. She gave me the silent treatment for two straight days, furious that I wanted to leave her safe haven.

A small, sticky finger poking my side yanked me out of my memories.

"Look at that dog!"

I followed Ivy's finger. Across the green grass, a massive golden retriever bounded in circles, playing tug-of-war with a laughing little boy.

"Mommy, can we please get a dog?" Ivy peered up at me, weaponizing those big, pleading puppy-dog eyes she knew I struggled to resist.

My heart ached. I hated denying her anything, especially something that brought her so much joy. But I had strict rules to follow now.

"Ivy, I told you this before, sweetie," I said, keeping my voice gentle but firm. "Oscar does not like dogs."

Oscar was my current boyfriend. We met two years ago when he walked into Praline to order a custom cake for a friend's birthday. He was the first man to capture my attention since Mason—aside from the nameless stranger whose bed I fled six years ago.

Oscar pursued me relentlessly. He became a regular at the bakery, showing up for coffee every single morning. After two months of his charm, I agreed to a date. Six months into our relationship, he asked me to move into his apartment. I hesitated. I had Ivy to protect now, and I could not afford to make reckless mistakes. Val strongly advised me against moving in with him, warning me that he was too controlling. It took me a full year of weighing the pros and cons before I finally took the leap, praying I was making the right choice for our future.

But living with Oscar came with non-negotiable boundaries. He liked a spotless house, quiet evenings, and he despised animals.

Ivy slumped her shoulders, her face twisting into a deep frown. "But how can someone not like dogs?"

I released a heavy sigh. She asked for a puppy every single week. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. We have to respect his rules."

Ivy ignored my apology. She glared at the grass and aggressively licked her cotton candy ice cream, keeping her eyes locked on the golden retriever as it happily smothered the little boy with wet kisses.

VAUGHN

The heavy mahogany door to my executive cabin swung open without a single knock.

I kept my eyes glued to the financial reports spread across my desk. It had to be Ronan. I took the liberty of assuming no employee of mine possessed the sheer courage to barge into my workspace unannounced.

Ronan strolled into the room, shoving his hands into his tailored slacks. He stopped in front of my desk, studying my face for a few long seconds before letting out an exasperated sigh.

"Do not tell me you are still thinking about her," Ronan said, his tone laced with disbelief.

I kept my expression blank, but my brother hit the mark dead on. I was thinking about her. I always thought about her. For over five years, I had obsessively replayed every single second of that night in my head. Those serene, captivating green eyes haunted my dreams. They flashed in my mind during board meetings. They kept me awake staring at the ceiling in the dead of night.

The biggest fucking irony of this relentless fixation was that I did not even have her name.

I knew nothing about her. I had no damn clue who she was, where she came from, or where she went. I only knew the soft curve of her hips. I knew the exact sounds she made when my penis drove deep inside her vagina. I knew how sweet she tasted when my mouth was on her pussy.

But she vanished into thin air. I woke up that morning to empty, cold sheets. I tore the penthouse apart looking for a trace. A discarded piece of clothing, a note scribbled on a napkin, a lost earring. Nothing. It felt like I hallucinated the entire night, except my body still carried the faint memory of her touch. How the hell did I fail to get her name?

She ruined me. She destroyed my desire for any other woman on earth. Sex had not been that fucking good ever since. Every time I took another woman to bed, I ended up disgusted and unsatisfied, constantly comparing them to a ghost I could not track down.

A low chuckle echoed through the quiet office.

"That good a pussy, huh?" Ronan asked.

My jaw tightened. I gritted my teeth, irritated by the immense amusement dancing in his voice. He loved poking the bear, testing my limits whenever he got the chance.

"Stop talking," I snapped.

My warning earned me another loud laugh before Ronan mercifully decided to let the topic go. He shifted his weight, his demeanor turning slightly more professional.

"You remember we have the Keystone Associates annual day coming up very soon, right?" he asked.

"Fuck," I swore under my breath.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. I had forgotten the event. My schedule was a nightmare, and playing host to hundreds of corporate sharks sat at the very bottom of my priority list.

"Yeah," Ronan drawled, clearly enjoying my frustration.

"Nadine looks after the arrangements for that," I said, leaning back in my leather chair. I let out a long breath, a faint smirk touching my lips as an idea struck me. I looked up, meeting my brother's gaze. "I will remind her to finalize the details. Or would you like to do the honors?"

The reaction was instant. It was my turn to be amused. Ronan's smirk vanished. His eyes narrowed into sharp slits for a split second before he masked his irritation. His expression turned cold and indifferent.

"I'll pass," Ronan said, his voice dropping flat.

I watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between us. I decided it was best to leave it there, keeping my thoughts to myself.