"Dad! Dad!" Sabrina's excited squeals filled the executive suite of Cullen's Bella office as she spun around in his leather chair. "We're really going home tomorrow?"
Cullen looked up from his tablet, his normally stern features softening at his daughter's enthusiasm. "Yes, princess. The jet is scheduled for 9 AM."
"Can we surprise Niall? Please?" Sabrina clasped her hands together, eyes wide with hope. "She won't expect us back so soon!"
Cullen's lips curved into a rare smile. "I think that could be arranged."
"Yes!" Sabrina pumped her fist triumphantly. "I can't wait to see her face!"
As Cullen returned to his work, Sabrina wandered to the window, gazing at the Bella skyline. For a brief moment, an unexpected thought crossed her mind—one that made her reach for her phone. Her finger hovered over her mother's contact picture.
"Mom probably misses me," she whispered to herself, a flicker of guilt passing through her.
Before she could reconsider, she pressed call. The line connected, and panic suddenly seized her. What would she even say? That she was coming home? That would ruin the surprise for Niall! As her mother's voice came through with a soft "Hello? Sa?", Sabrina hastily ended the call, her heart racing.
Seconds later, her phone rang—her mother calling back. Sabrina stared at the screen, frozen.
"Aren't you going to answer that?" Chelsea, the housekeeper, asked as she entered with fresh towels.
"It was an accident," Sabrina lied, declining the call. "I didn't mean to call her."
Chelsea gave her a knowing look. "Your mother must be worried if you hung up suddenly."
Right on cue, the villa's landline rang. Chelsea answered it, her voice professional. "Dennis residence… Yes, Mrs. Dennis, Sabrina is right here."
Sabrina shook her head frantically, mouthing "no" repeatedly.
"She's… in the bathroom at the moment," Chelsea improvised, looking uncomfortable with the deception. "Yes, I'll tell her you called… Of course, Mrs. Dennis."
After hanging up, Chelsea gave Sabrina a gentle but reproachful look. "Your mother sounded concerned, Miss Sabrina."
"I just don't want to talk to her right now," Sabrina mumbled, guilt and defiance warring in her expression. "She'd just try to make me feel bad about Niall again."
Chelsea sighed but said nothing more, leaving Sabrina alone with her conflicted feelings.
In his private office, Cullen methodically packed documents into his briefcase, mentally reviewing his upcoming schedule. The Bella branch was running smoothly now, and he could focus on the main headquarters again.
His phone buzzed with an incoming text from Niall: "Landed safely. Dinner tomorrow night? I have something important to discuss."
A rare smile crossed his face as he typed back a simple "Looking forward to it."
Nate away, Veronica balanced two potted plants as she fumbled for her apartment keys. The morning light filtered through the hallway window, casting a warm glow on the freshly painted walls of her new building.
"Mrs. Dennis! Let me help you with that."
Veronica turned to see Casey Violet, her neighbor from across the hall, hurrying toward her with a brown paper bag in hand.
"It's just Veronica, please," she corrected gently, offering a small smile as Casey took one of the plants.
"I brought you some of my homemade cinnamon rolls," Casey said, lifting the bag. "It's the least I could do after what you did for Audrey yesterday."
"Anyone would have done the same," Veronica protested, finally managing to unlock her door. "That dog was clearly rabid. I couldn't just stand there."
"Not everyone would have moved that quickly or known what to do," Casey insisted, following Veronica inside. "Most people would have frozen. You saved my daughter."
Veronica set her plant on the kitchen counter, trying to downplay her actions. "Is Audrey feeling better today?"
"Much better. She's actually excited about her 'battle scars,'" Casey laughed. "She's telling everyone at school how you fought off a wild beast."
The mention of school made Veronica's heart clench. Sabrina attended the same academy as Audrey, though they were in different grades. She wondered if her daughter had heard the story—if she'd recognized her mother in the heroic figure from Audrey's tale.
Probably not. In Sabrina's eyes lately, Veronica wasn't capable of being anyone's hero.
After Casey left, Veronica settled at her dining table with her laptop and a cinnamon roll. As she scrolled through her emails, a news headline caught her eye: "Lattice College Celebrates Centennial Anniversary."
Her fingers stilled on the keyboard. Lattice—her alma mater, the place where she had flourished intellectually before life took an unexpected turn. Before Cullen. Before everything changed.
The article mentioned a campus celebration happening that very afternoon. Without overthinking it, Veronica closed her laptop, changed into a simple blue dress, and grabbed her car keys.
The familiar stone buildings of Lattice College stirred something deep within Veronica as she walked across the manicured central quad. Students hurried past, their faces alight with the same academic fervor she once possessed. Had it really been nearly eight years since she'd graduated at eighteen, three years ahead of her peers?
She paused by the science building, memories washing over her. This was where she'd spent countless nights coding, innovating, dreaming of changing the world through technology. Before Cullen's grandfather had pressured them into marriage after that one fateful night.
She turned at the sound of her maiden name—a name she hadn't heard in professional circles for years—to find a tall man with kind eyes and salt-and-pepper hair staring at her in disbelief.
"Dario," she breathed, recognizing her former classmate and business partner instantly.
Twenty minutes later, they sat across from each other in a quiet corner of the bustling café, steam rising from their cups. Veronica found herself revealing what she'd told no one but Whitney—that she was divorcing Cullen, reclaiming her life, her career, her identity.
"So you're finally coming back to us?" Dario asked, hope evident in his voice. "DataPulse has never been the same without you. Your office is still there, you know. I never let anyone else use it."
Veronica fidgeted with her cup. "I'm not sure I'd be much use anymore, Matt. It's been years. The industry moves so fast—I've fallen behind."
"Nonsense," Dario countered firmly. "Your mind doesn't work like everyone else's, Veronica. That's why we were such a good team. I had the business sense, but you—you had the vision, the brilliance that nobody could match."
"Had," she emphasized, her voice small. "Past tense."
"Have," he corrected. "Present tense. Always. That kind of gift doesn't disappear just because you shelved it for a while."
Veronica shook her head, unable to share his confidence. "I've spent the last six years planning charity galas and attending vapid social functions as 'Mrs. Dennis.' I'm not sure that person can transform back into the tech prodigy you remember."
Dario leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Do you know what makes you different from every other genius who's walked through Lattice? It wasn't just your IQ or how quickly you could solve problems. It was your resilience. When others hit walls, you found ways through, around, or over them."
His words touched something deep inside her—a spark of the passion and confidence she'd once possessed.
"The company needs you, Veronica. I need my partner back." Dario's voice grew softer. "The question is: are you ready to be Veronica Murray again instead of Mrs. Cullen Dennis?"
She stared into her coffee, seeing her reflection in the dark liquid. Was she ready? The thought of returning to a field that had moved on without her was terrifying. What if she couldn't keep up? What if her skills had atrophied beyond repair?
"I don't know, Matt," she finally whispered, voicing her deepest fear. "What if I'm not the same person I was before? What if I can't do it anymore?"
The doubt that had been planted during years of Cullen's indifference and dismissal had grown into a towering barrier. Somewhere along the way, Veronica had lost sight of the brilliant, confident woman she once was—and she wasn't sure if that person still existed beneath the layers of Mrs. Dennis's careful composure.
Dario reached across the table, covering her trembling hand with his own. "There's only one way to find out."