Celine and Nathan returned to the city with a different kind of glow — the quiet, unmistakable shift that comes after a weekend capable of changing everything.
Nathan dove straight back into work, finalizing the last touches on the HUB contract. He barely realized that, somewhere along the way, he stopped trying to avoid his mother. Something about being with Celine softened edges he didn't know he had.
Celine slipped easily into her routine — meetings at HUB, site visits for outreach programs, plus occasional social functions with her mother. She kept her relationship with Nathan private, not secret but sacred, even though society continued whispering about her. She appeared calm, unbothered, graceful.
While giving Letty instructions for a stack of new proposals, Celine's phone buzzed.
Carol Brandt: Reminder about the dinner this Friday — your punishment, dear!
Celine nearly gasped. She completely forgot the dinner she and Nathan owed them for losing the retreat game. Thankfully, Carol's text saved her.
She couldn't host at the Rosenfield estate, and Nathan's suite didn't have a kitchen. A caterer crossed her mind, but she wanted this to feel intimate — warm, personal, like something they created together. Letty suggested checking other Rosenfield properties.
That lit a spark.
Celine scrolled through the estate listings until she found the perfect place — a villa tucked in one of their private communities, overlooking a serene artificial lake, quiet and elegant.
She asked Letty to send out formal invitations to their closest friends and set aside the menu planning until she could talk to Nathan. He was taking her to dinner after work.
With a bit of time before he arrived, she visited her dad upstairs. Ben immediately beamed.
"Hi, love! Ready to head home? Want to hitch a ride with Dad?" he teased.
"I wish, but I already have plans with Nathan." She hugged him gently.
"Oh-ho… my kids are all grown up," Ben said dramatically. "Your mom and I should start preparing for the empty-nester life."
"Dad…" she laughed softly, "don't make me feel bad. I can cancel with Nathan."
"I'm kidding, sweet girl. Go enjoy your night. I like him—reminds me of myself when I was younger. Hardworking… and good-looking." He winked.
Celine shook her head and kissed his cheek before heading to the lobby, stepping outside just as Nathan pulled up.
He stepped out, kissed her softly, opened her door, and off they went — talking about their day. She shared the progress of her programs. He shared the endless video calls. He brought her to a classic Italian restaurant, dimly lit, warm, cozy — another perfect recommendation from Adam.
Nathan was effortlessly attentive. Opening doors. Pulling her chair. Serving her water. The kind of tenderness that could disarm anyone.
It made her curious.
"You're always so sweet and smooth," she teased. "Were you like this with every girl? You must've dated a lot."
Nathan chuckled. "I've been on dates… had a relationship." Then his tone softened. "But I don't know. With you… I want to go the extra mile."
Her heart melted a little.
She remembered the dinner party.
"So, about Friday… I found a villa we can use. I wanted to ask what cuisine you prefer. American? Thai? Something cozy."
Nathan rested his chin on his hand, pretending to think deeply before grinning.
"American. Let's go simple."
After dinner, Nathan drove her home. He offered to stay for a bit, but she could tell he was exhausted, so she nudged him to rest.
The next few days were a blur. She wrapped up her tasks at HUB, visited the dinner location, and walked Letty through everything they needed. The day before the dinner, she went grocery shopping — determined to cook everything herself, wanting something meaningful and impressive.
She moved through aisles with laser focus, picking the freshest ingredients, checking every label. In that moment, she was so absorbed in the details she didn't notice Ms. Davis approaching until the woman called her name.
"Celine, dear!" The older woman greeted her warmly.
They embraced and caught up. Ms. Davis apologized for missing the donor awards ceremony, and Celine quickly dismissed the apology.
They ended up sharing lunch at a small café outside the store — the same cozy place volunteers often went after outreach visits. Ms. Davis had always been close to Celine; they bonded over stories of the children they worked with and the ache of Ms. Davis's missing son.
Halfway through their meal, Ms. Davis's eyes filled with tears — but this time, happy ones.
"Celine… I found him," she whispered.
Celine gasped. "Your son? You found him? That's… that's amazing!"
Ms. Davis nodded, trembling with emotion. But then, her smile faltered.
"I haven't reached out yet," she admitted softly. "I'm scared. Could you… help me?"
Celine blinked.
Why her?
Unless—
A sudden realization hit her chest.
She spoke quietly, almost bracing for the answer.
"Ms. Davis… is your son's name Nathan?"
Ms. Davis nodded, tears streaming.
Celine froze.
Her heart swelled — painfully, overwhelmingly.
Pieces clicked into place.
The avoidance.
The guardedness.
The quiet sadness when family came up.
He wasn't avoiding the topic about family.
He was missing her.
Celine reached for Ms. Davis's hands.
"Yes," she said gently. "I'll help you."
She didn't hesitate. Nathan was kind, understanding, gentle. He would listen. He would forgive. He would want to know.
She wanted to give him that.
On her way home, the sky looked brighter. The air felt lighter.
For once, she felt like she could finally give Nathan something meaningful in return.
Everything felt like it was falling beautifully into place.