The call with Sienna stretched long into the night — the kind of conversation that began with silence and ended with laughter through tears.
At first, neither of them spoke.
There was too much to say, too many years of pride and pain sitting heavy between them.
Finally, Evelyn found her voice.
"Sienna… I'm sorry," she whispered. "For everything I said, everything I did. I hurt you when you were only trying to help me."
There was a pause. Then Sienna sighed, a sound that was half relief, half heartbreak.
"I tried so hard to warn you, Evie," she said softly. "Hannah and Oliver were poisoning you. But you were so… lost."
"I know," Evelyn murmured, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I believed them. They told me you were jealous, that you wanted Alexander's attention, that you wanted to ruin my marriage. I was so stupid."
"Not stupid," Sienna said gently. "Just trusting the wrong people."
That broke Evelyn completely. She laughed wetly through her tears. "I really don't deserve you."
"Well," Sienna teased lightly, "you're lucky I'm a forgiving person. Ryan still says you were one of the only genuine souls in that industry. He never stopped hoping you'd call again."
That made Evelyn laugh for real — a soft, genuine sound that felt foreign and warm. "How is Ryan?"
"Still brilliant. Still married to me. Still the man who double-checks every contract I sign," Sienna said fondly. "He's been tracking Oliver for years, you know. Says something about his company's money trail never adding up."
Evelyn froze. "Ryan knows about Oliver?"
"Enough to make him curious," Sienna said. "Why?"
Evelyn's voice lowered, urgent. "Because I need evidence. Proof of what Oliver and Hannah did. The affair… the abortion… everything. I want it all exposed."
There was no hesitation from Sienna this time. "I'll help you," she said firmly. "I'll talk to Ryan. He still has contacts in the media and tech firms. If there's anything on them, he'll find it."
"Thank you," Evelyn whispered, her throat tight.
"You don't have to thank me," Sienna replied softly. "Just don't vanish again. Promise?"
"I promise."
They lingered on the line a little longer, reminiscing about the past — their first movie together, the clumsy photoshoots, the way Evelyn used to forget her lines and Sienna covered for her. They laughed until the ache in their chests eased.
When they finally said goodbye, Sienna's last words were warm and simple. "Lunch tomorrow, same café as always?"
"Yes," Evelyn said, smiling. "Tomorrow."
She hung up feeling lighter than she had in years.
---
Later, when she checked on the girls, they were already asleep.
She kissed their foreheads one by one and lingered by Grace's crib, brushing a hand across her soft hair.
Then she returned to her room.
Her bed felt foreign — a place she hadn't shared with her husband since before Grace was born. In her past life, she had locked Alexander out, resenting his distance, blaming him for every ache her parents had caused.
She'd thought pushing him away was freedom.
Now, lying in the quiet, she realized it had only been loneliness.
With that thought, she drifted into sleep.
---
Sometime past midnight, the door creaked open.
Evelyn stirred faintly but didn't wake as Alexander stepped into the room.
He stood by the bed for a long moment, looking down at her — her face softened by sleep, her features gentle, the faintest trace of a smile curving her lips.
Something in him unclenched.
Without a word, he lay down beside her, careful not to wake her, and slipped an arm around her waist.
Evelyn stirred, murmured softly, and instinctively nestled into his chest. Her voice came out half-asleep, fragile but sincere.
"I'm sorry, Alexander…"
He exhaled slowly, his lips brushing her forehead. "Go to sleep, Evelyn," he whispered.
She sighed, a small, content sound, and melted against him.
For the first time in years, the house was quiet in a way that didn't feel empty.
---
When morning came, the bed beside her was cold — but the imprint on the pillow and the tangled sheet proved it hadn't been a dream.
Evelyn smiled to herself as sunlight poured through the curtains.
She got up, dressed, and made her way downstairs.
The sound of laughter guided her to the dining room.
Alexander sat at the head of the table, holding Grace carefully as he fed her from a bottle. Lily and Emma were beside him, chattering away, giggling at something he said.
He looked… relaxed. Almost happy.
"Daddy," Emma was saying, "Mommy's funny now! She laughs when we laugh!"
Lily nodded enthusiastically. "And she cooks! You should have seen her, Daddy — she made food and didn't even burn it!"
Evelyn leaned against the doorway, her heart swelling at the sight.
Then she stepped forward, smiling softly. "Is that so?"
Three pairs of eyes turned toward her — two bright with excitement, one unreadable but not unkind.
"Good morning, my loves," she said, kissing her older daughters on their foreheads before walking to Alexander. She leaned down, gently took Grace from his arms, and began to nurse her.
Alexander stiffened slightly at first — old habits, old walls — but then her quiet confidence disarmed him.
When Grace settled peacefully against her, Evelyn looked up and smiled. "Good morning, honey."
Alexander blinked, caught off guard by the endearment.
Before he could respond, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.
"Good morning," he murmured, his voice rougher than usual.
He hesitated, then slipped an arm around her, inhaling the faint scent of roses in her hair. "Eat your breakfast," he said quietly. "You barely ate last night."
She smiled. "Yes, sir."
He glanced at her, a trace of amusement flickering in his eyes, and released her.
---
As she fed the baby and ate her own breakfast, Evelyn said softly, "I'm meeting Sienna today. For lunch."
Alexander looked up, startled. "Sienna Ross?"
"Yes. I owe her an apology. And I want to make things right. She's… important to me."
He studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Take the guards with you."
"I will."
"I'll be at the company. I'll try to be home early."
Evelyn's smile was bright and effortless. "Then I'll try to cook again."
He said nothing, only watched her as the morning light framed her face.
When he finally stood to leave, he kissed each of his daughters on the head — something he rarely did in front of the staff — and paused by the door.
"See you tonight," he said.
Evelyn looked up from Grace and met his eyes. "See you tonight."
And when he was gone, the room still carried the warmth of something she hadn't felt in years — hope.