Susan woke to the scent of coffee and the sound of Chris humming low under his breath. For a moment she thought she was dreaming the image of him standing at the counter, shirt sleeves rolled up, hair messy from sleep, moving quietly so as not to wake Leah.
It was so… ordinary.
So domestic.
It terrified her.
"You cook now?" she asked, padding barefoot into the kitchen, arms folded.
Chris looked up, startled but smiling. "Define 'cook.'" He gestured to the table scrambled eggs, toast, cut fruit arranged with surprising care. "I call this survival."
Susan bit back the twitch of a smile, sinking into a chair. "Hmm. Survival looks edible."
"High praise from you," he teased, sliding a plate toward her.
For a while, they ate in companionable silence, Leah babbling in her high chair while Chris made ridiculous faces to earn her giggles. Susan found herself laughing too softly at first, then unguarded, the sound startling her as much as him.
He stilled, watching her like the laugh was a gift. "I missed that," he murmured.
Her smile faltered, the weight of his words pulling her back to reality but Chris didn't push. Instead, he rolled up his sleeves and washed dishes alongside her, water dripping down his forearms as though he belonged in her kitchen all along.
Later, he insisted on joining her for a walk around the resort grounds. Leah nestled in her stroller, wide-eyed at the world, while Chris walked beside Susan, deliberately keeping pace with her. Not leading. Not controlling. Just walking with her.
"Feels like we're… a family," Susan admitted quietly, surprising even herself.
Chris's hand brushed hers, tentative. "That's all I've ever wanted."
Her heart clenched. She wanted to believe him. She wanted this to be real. But the shadows of the past whispered that happiness this fragile never lasted.
Still, when Leah reached out, grabbing Chris's finger and refusing to let go, Susan didn't pull away.
For the first time, she let herself imagine a world where maybe just maybe they could have this.
The quiet days began to feel dangerously sweet.
Chris was… different. Or maybe she was different. He woke before her, made coffee, took Leah on stroller walks so Susan could sleep in. He laughed more, worked less. At night, when Leah cried, he was the first to stumble out of bed, cradling her with a tenderness that made Susan's chest ache.
It was everything she thought she wanted. Everything she thought she'd never have.
And it terrified her.
Because perfect never lasted.
Because in her world, love always came with a price.
One evening, after Leah finally drifted off, Susan found herself by the balcony, staring out at the night sky. Chris joined her silently, leaning against the railing, their arms brushing.
"You've been quiet," he said softly.
"I'm just… waiting for it to fall apart," she admitted, surprising herself with the honesty. "For the other shoe to drop."
His jaw tightened. "Susan…."
"You left me once, Chris. You let me walk out. And now you're here, and you're… amazing with her. With me. But what happens when it gets hard again? When you're not sure of my feelings again?" Her voice cracked. "Do you walk away? Do you let us go?"
Her words sliced through the fragile peace between them. Chris turned to her fully, eyes storm-dark.
"I will never let you walk away again." His voice was low, fierce, absolute. "You can hate me, scream at me, throw me out but I'm not leaving. Not you. Not Leah. You're it for me, Susan. You always have been."
She wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to. But the ghosts of Derek, of betrayal, of her old life whispered louder.
Tears burned her eyes. "I don't know if I can survive being wrong about you again. It was like I was never meant to be loved, no parents, then Derek and…."
Chris stepped closer, his hand cupping her cheek, his forehead brushing hers. "Then let me spend every day proving how much love you deserve and how much of it I can give, let's watch Leah grow together"
Her breath hitched. The world tilted. And before she could think better of it, he kissed her desperate, trembling, as though her fear and longing had collided in a single reckless moment, she kissed him back like a woman starved.
For a heartbeat, there was no past, no fear, no shadows. Just them.
But deep inside, Susan knew the battle wasn't over. Because her war was with herself.
For a few blissful days, Susan let herself breathe.
Chris was steady. Present. Almost relentless in how he cared for Leah, for her, without demanding anything in return. He worked from the suite, took calls quietly, and then joined her for meals like a man desperate to make up for lost time.
It was dangerous, this happiness. But it was theirs.
Things were perfect again.
Chris had called for a home to be prepared Michael personally supervising and sending updates and he couldn't wait to move Susan and Leah under their own roof. The resort had been good while it lasted, but he wanted permanence. Stability. A place that belonged to them.
Susan had eased up. Her smile never faltered when he looked at her. She laughed more. She slept better. Happiness looked good on he,r on them and for the first time in months, Chris allowed himself to believe they had made it through.
Until the call came.
One call from the police, and the fragile world he had built shattered.
Chris hung up; his knuckles white around the phone. His gaze shifted to Susan, who was already pale, Leah clutched tight against her chest.
"Chris…"
He was beside her in a heartbeat, gently lifting Leah into his own arms before crouching in front of Susan.
"I promise he won't get to you," he said firmly.
Her head shook violently, eyes wide with panic. "You don't"
"Hey." His tone cut through her spiralling fear, steady and commanding. His hand cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "He won't get to you."
Something in his conviction stilled her, even if only slightly. She found herself nodding, but her voice cracked with the thought that haunted her.
"What if he hurts Leah?"
Chris sat beside her, pulling her close with Leah still nestled in his arms. His embrace was solid, unyielding, the weight of his promise anchoring her.
"Listen to me, Susan. Nothing will hurt you. Nothing will hurt her. Not while I'm breathing."
She searched his face, desperate for doubt, but found only steel. He had saved her once. Maybe, just maybe, she could believe he would again.
The news spread fast. Derek had escaped custody, killing a police officer in the process. His face was plastered across every screen, every front page. A wanted poster reborn.
Chris mobilized everything, his contacts, his power, his money. The resort was locked down with armed guards stationed at every corner. Susan tried to steady her breath as she watched them from the window, telling herself Derek couldn't possibly break through. Not here. Not now.
But Derek wasn't a ghost of her past anymore. He was real. He was out there. And soon, Chris received a call that made the blood drain from his face.
Michael.
Bleeding.
Held hostage in his office.
By Derek.
And his only one demand was made: Susan comes, or Michael dies.