Chloe woke abruptly, hands pressing against the mattress as she sat up, heart quickening with the realization that Carter wasn't beside her.
The sheets were slightly ruffled, the warmth of his small frame already fading.
Her breath caught.
Where—
She stood, pushing away exhaustion, moving toward the door with instinctive urgency.
The suite was quiet, but not empty.
And then—she saw them.
Kian.
Carter.
Sleeping.
Carter was curled against Kian's side, pillowing his head against the man's arm—a gesture so natural, so effortless, as if this had always been their reality.
And Chloe? She stilled.
Her pulse didn't slow.
Her mind fought against something dangerous—nostalgia, longing, the remnants of a past she had abandoned.
Because this—this exact image, this moment, this softness—had once been Kian's dream.
A future he had spoken of, whispered about, sketched into late-night conversations between them.
A family.
Children.
A life together.
And now—watching them, seeing the shape of what could've been settle into her reality—she felt herself slipping into something she didn't want to name.
Denial crept in.
Because this wasn't supposed to exist.
She had walked away.
She had left.
And yet—for a moment, standing there in the quiet morning light, it felt like she had never left at all.