Felicity's POV.
Something about seeing my dad that way—fragile but fighting—tugged at the girl in me who still missed him at every childhood recital. But now, sitting by his bedside, our conversation shifted from buried grief to warm laughter. Slowly, I was warming up to him like cocoa by a winter fire.
Then the door creaked open and the doctor stepped in, clipboard in hand and a soft, practiced smile.
"Visiting hours are over," she said gently. "Please say your goodbyes."
I nodded and turned toward her, then back to Dad. "Can you send my mom to come in before we go?"
"Of course," the doctor replied before slipping out.
Mom entered moments later, her expression equal parts brave and uncertain.
"Hi, Mom." I reached her hand and led her to Dad. "Look, I know things went nuclear between you two... but it's not too late. Forgiveness doesn't mean forgetting. It just means… moving forward."
I turned to Dad, inhaled deeply. "You're going to get better, okay? Because you're coming to my matriculation. My graduation. And—someday—my wedding." I added with a dry laugh, "Not now. Relax. But someday. So hang in there. As for forgiveness… I'm not there yet and I'm thinking about it. But I'm trying."
Dad's voice cracked. "Take your time, my girl. I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."
He turned to Mom. "Joy… I'm sorry for all the ways I failed you. If you'll give me a chance, I'd like to try again. To be better. To make this work—if you'll have me."
Mom hesitated. Then smiled softly, blinking back a tear. "When you're out of here, you owe me a proper date. And no hospital gowns or cheap flowers this time."
Dad chuckled weakly. "Deal."
We shared one last hug before the rest of the crew trickled in—Christopher, Charlotte, Benjamin, and, unfortunately, Mia. Goodbyes were exchanged, some teary, others hopeful.
Then came the surprise.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Dad," I said. "We're staying at a hotel nearby—"
"No," he interrupted, his tone suddenly firm. "No hotel. You'll stay at the estate. Your house. The royal estate."
"Dad, but—"
"No ifs, no buts. Paddingtons sleep under one roof. That's final."
I glanced at Mom, who simply raised a brow like, Here he goes again.
"Fine, you win," I muttered, already dreading the drama this would bring.
**********
Christopher's POV.
The ride back to the estate was quiet. Too quiet. Felicity's mother sat in the front, while Felicity and I sat in the back, our shoulders brushing, but words unspoken. I wanted to say something—anything—but the air was too heavy, like even our thoughts weren't allowed to speak.
When we arrived, I stepped out first, rounded the car, opened her door, and held out my hand—waiting, hoping she'd take it.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as her fingers slipped into mine like they belonged there.
I gave her a small smile. "Always."
Charlotte greeted us with a warm hug and ushered us into the grand Scottish estate—marble floors, gold sconces, and portraits of grumpy ancestors watching our every move.
We settled in, freshened up, ate a proper royal dinner none of us had the appetite for, and headed upstairs. But sleep? Not even close. My insomnia decided to keep me company. So I stepped outside for some air and there she was, Felicity.
Wearing a silky nightgown that made my breath hitch. Her curls were in a messy bun like she was halfway through a photo shoot and had no idea.
"Oh," she said, surprised. "Didn't know you'd be out here."
"Couldn't sleep," I admitted.
She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around herself. "Me neither. My brain won't shut up."
"How are you holding up?" I asked softly. "If you need me, I'm here. Always."
She turned to me—and her brave face finally shattered. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks before she could stop them. Instinct took over. I just pulled her into my arms, like I could shield her from everything breaking inside.
"I'm sorry," she whispered into my chest.
"Don't be. Cry, I've got you."
We stood there, wrapped in moonlight and heartbreak. Her heartbeat against mine. Her tears soaking through my shirt. And all I could think was: One week. One chance. Don't mess this up.
**********
Mia's POV.
"Excuse me, but I'm not hungry," I snapped, pushing my chair back from the royal dining table with a screech.
I stormed out, heels clicking like thunder down the hallway. Once in my room, I slammed the door hard enough to shake the walls. Then came the tantrum. Perfume bottles? Shattered. Porcelain brush set? Smashed. My designer heels? Flung across the room like knives.
"How dare she?" I spat at the mirror. "How dare Felicity take my man? My prince. My future husband!"
I needed air before I exploded. So I stepped outside, the night was cold. But what I saw burned hotter than rage.
There they were. Felicity and Christopher. In the garden. Holding each other under the bloody moonlight.
My breath caught. My pulse roared. My chest cracked in two.
"So…" I said aloud, fists clenched, "that's the girl he's in love with? My cousin?" I threw up air quotes and let out a bitter laugh. "Then she's the girl I'll ruin. Because no one messes with my man and gets away with it—even if she's family."
Because nobody takes Mia's man and walks into a fairytale. Not on my watch and left.