CHAPTER 356: LIVING THE DREAM

Nick’s POV

I was living the dream, or at least, that’s what it felt like.

Last night, Georgia smiled the same way she used to. There was something in her touch, in the way her eyes softened when she said those three words... I love you. It was as if a missing piece of her had found its way home. Not entirely, but enough for my heart to breathe again.

For the first time in weeks, I slept peacefully. No nightmares. No doubts. Just her voice echoing in my mind.

This morning, the penthouse was quiet — too quiet. Vicky and Ella had already taken Georgia, Katie, and Wendy to the resort to prepare for tomorrow. I’d insisted they go ahead, wanting her to enjoy the calm before our big day. Nora, the housekeeper, was gone too. I gave her a two-week paid vacation. So it was just me, a mug of black coffee, and my laptop.

I was halfway through checking my investment accounts when the doorbell rang.

I frowned. "Did they forget something?" I muttered, standing up and glancing at the monitor.

My chest tightened.

It was Violet...

Of all people.

I buzzed her in and waited by the foyer, bracing myself. She stepped in slowly, her smile uncertain, the kind of smile that hides too much.

"I’m having coffee. Want some?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral.

"Yes, please. Black. Two sugars."

I nodded and led her inside. She walked behind me quietly, her eyes wandering over every corner — the photos, the furniture, the silence.

"Do you want some bread? I only have a few slices left. I gave everything else away since we’ll be gone for a while for the honeymoon," I offered, more out of politeness than care.

She shook her head. "No need. I won’t stay long."

Her voice trembled, just slightly.

"Have a seat," I said, turning toward the kitchen. "I’ll heat up the coffee."

As I poured the drink, I caught her reflection in the glass cabinet. She was staring at the console table — at the framed photos of me with my family, my friends, Georgia, my Mom... her expression unreadable.

When I returned, she was sitting at the dining table, looking small and out of place.

"You’ve got a nice place," she said softly. "It’s my first time seeing your place, and yet I feel like it’s home."

"It’s nice but small," I replied, setting her cup down. "Had to convert my old office into a bedroom while waiting for the new house to finish."

She smiled faintly, but her eyes — those haunted eyes — betrayed her.

I sat across from her. "How’s Reagan holding up?"

"He’s coping. We were allowed to see him for a few minutes yesterday before he was moved to his permanent cell. We won’t see him again until next week."

I nodded. "I see." Then, after a pause, I met her gaze. "So why are you here, Violet?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached for the brown envelope she’d been holding since she walked in. Her hand trembled as she pushed it across the table toward me.

My brows furrowed. "What’s this?"

Violet exhaled slowly — like someone about to let go of something heavy.

"Something I should’ve given you a long time ago," she whispered.

I pulled the papers from the envelope and began reading, confusion washing over me as the words registered.

"You’re divorcing Dad?" I asked, my brows furrowing.

Violet nodded, her smile small but sincere. "Yes. This... is my wedding gift to you."

I blinked, unsure if I heard her right. "What?"

"It’s also my thank-you for helping Reagan," she said softly. "You didn’t have to, not after everything I and Reagan did to you. I’ve been cruel, Nicholas. Unforgivable, even. And yet... You still helped my son. You still cared."

Her words caught me off guard. For the first time in my life, I saw her not as the cold, sharp-tongued woman I’d grown up fearing and hating, but as someone... tired.

"I don’t understand," I muttered, gripping the papers tighter. "Why are you telling me this? What does this have to do with me?"

She let out a shaky laugh, her eyes glistening. "Because this is me letting go. I want you to walk down that aisle tomorrow without the shadow of our family’s lies following you. I want your real mother to walk beside you, not me—the woman who pretended to be one."

Her voice trembled as she spoke, but she didn’t look away.

"We’re old, Nicholas. Too old to keep pretending. Your grandfather’s been gone for years. I should’ve done this when he died, but I was too proud. Too angry. I thought staying in that marriage was the right thing... but it wasn’t. It destroyed all of us."

She sighed, the sound heavy and hollow. "I stayed because I wanted to punish your father for betraying me. And your mother, for stealing Benjamin from me. But who was I fooling? Benjamin was never mine to begin with. He never truly was."

She paused, meeting my eyes, and for a moment, I saw the girl she must have been—hurt, angry, human.

"So now," she whispered, "I’m setting us all free. I’m setting myself free."

I swallowed hard. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes." She nodded. "I told your father last night, but he didn’t believe me. I had my lawyer finalize the papers this morning. Benjamin’s probably on his way to your mother’s house right now to prepare for your wedding. Give this to him, will you?"

I hesitated, but she smiled gently. "Please. I’ll be gone before he comes back. My lawyer will take care of everything else."

Her tone softened. "I can’t see him again before the divorce is finalized, Nick. If I do... I might not have the strength to walk away. And they’re right, you know—if you love someone, set them free. So that’s what I’m doing."

Her eyes shimmered, but no tears fell. Just that quiet strength I’d never seen before.

I nodded. "If this is what you want, then I’ll respect it. Does Liam know?"

Violet’s lips curved upward. "Yes. He was the first person I told about this. He said he was proud of me for making the right decision." She let out a small laugh, genuine this time. "For the first time, I made my son proud. That’s something I’ll hold onto."

She stood, smoothing her skirt, and walked toward me. When she reached out, I instinctively met her halfway. Her hands were warm, trembling slightly as she took mine.

"I’m sorry, Nicholas," she said, her voice breaking just a little. "I’m sorry for hating you, just because you were the proof of the love between the man I wanted and the woman he truly loved. I’m sorry for the childhood I stole from you. For every cruel word, every wound I gave."

She inhaled shakily. "But despite everything, you turned out to be a better man than any of us. You have your father’s heart and your mother’s soul. Be happy, Nick. You and Georgia... you deserve all the peace this world can give."

And before I could say anything, she pulled me into a hug — tight, trembling, and heartbreakingly sincere.

"Goodbye, my son," she whispered.

Then she stepped back, her hand lingering for a second before she turned and walked toward the door.

I stood there frozen, the sound of her heels fading down the hallway, leaving a silence that pressed against my chest.

Even after the door closed, I couldn’t move. My throat burned, my vision blurred, and only then did I realize—she had finally given me something I never thought she would.

Forgiveness.

And freedom from anger and hate.

******

Thank you for the Golden Tickets!

Edna_R2679

Kristen2025