Page 95 of When Love And Destiny Collide

I take a deep breath, stepping closer. "It’s not that I don’t believe you, Lily. It's a big accusation. I just... we need to be certain."

Her eyes narrow slightly. "I'm certain," she whispers.

I rake my fingers through my hair, saying nothing. Instead, I take a deep breath, struggling to keep my frustration in check.

"I'm going to the studio," she says, rising to her feet, the resolve crystal clear in her voice.

"I think we should wait," I suggest, standing too. "Let's wait until we hear from Sam."

"No," she says, her determination hardening. "I’m not going to wait. I have to talk to the Clays." Tears begin to roll down her cheeks, each one a reflection of the pain she's experiencing as the magnitude of what this means sinks in. "I have to call the bank. I need to contact the insurance company. I have to reach out to twenty-two parents and tell them they’ll need to find a different daycare for God knows how long. And I have to break the news to the three employees who won’t have jobs come Monday morning. So no, Noah, I can’t just sit around and wait."

"Lily, please." My voice is softer, pleading with her to slow down and let us face this together.

She pauses only for a moment, her eyes meeting mine, full of an intensity that burns. "How long will you sit here and wait for Marian to return your calls? Davey should’ve been home hours ago. Is thatsinisterenough for you?"

Her words hit me hard. I can see the hurt in her eyes, the weight of everything crashing down. I feel torn, knowing she’s right but still trying to hold it together for both of us.

When I remain silent, she grabs her purse and strides toward the door. I should rush after her to be there for whatever she needs, but I stand rooted in place. The words she uttered pierced me like a thousand arrows. Where's Davey?

I call Marian again, leaving yet another message, my voice growing more frantic with each call. My heart races as I hang up, dread knotting tighter in my stomach. Then, I hear the door click open. I rush to the living room, praying it's Davey—but it's Lily. She's standing there, eyes swollen from crying. The moment our gazes meet, the tension between us dissolves. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry." I open my arms, and she falls into them, her sobs shaking us both.

"You came back," I manage, emotion thick in my throat.

"Noah, the daycare is gone—but it's just a building," she says softly. "If what I think is true, this is where I need to be." As her words sink in, so does the awful truth. Marian has taken my son.

"Call Bethany," Lily pleads, her voice sharp with urgency.

I call Bethany and rush through the chaotic details in one breathless stream. "Okay, Noah, take a breath," she says in a calm voice. "The first thing you need to do is call the police and file a report."

"How the hell did she get him out of the country?" I burst out, my frustration boiling over. "I have sole custody. How can it be so easy for someone to just take a child like that?"

"Marian is his mother and she planned this," she says, her voice certain. "She knew the airport would be packed on Labor Day weekend. Security should be stricter, but sometimes it works against itself. People slip through when protocols aren’t followed. I’m so sorry, Noah."

"I let my guard down," I say, berating myself for my lack of judgment.

"Call the police right now," she insists, steering me back on track. "I'll call you in an hour. And, Noah, we’re going to get him back."

After I speak with the police and Bethany again, Lily sits beside me, her hand gripping mine tightly, unwavering. She’sset aside all her own worries, pouring everything she has into what matters most to me—but I know it matters just as much to her. She was right—the fire has caused more than just a burnt building. Lives have been affected, and the financial toll must be pressing heavily on her mind. Yet here she is, staying strong, trying to be my anchor when I know she's struggling too.

According to Bethany, the next step is to initiate proceedings under the Hague Convention on International Child Abduction. I have no idea what that entails, so Lily and I are pouring over articles online, trying to make sense of it all to understand what we’re up against.

"I have to go," I say, meeting Lily’s worried gaze. "I need to talk to someone at the consulate, and if going to court is necessary, I’d rather be there now—prepared."

She nods, gently twisting the ring around her finger. "I’ll be back, Sweetheart. I’ll be back in time to put the other ring on your finger."

"I know," she smiles, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Go and get our boy back."

"What about everything you’re facing?" I ask, worry and regret knotting in my stomach. "I hate leaving you when you need me most."

"Davey needs you most," she replies, her hand squeezing mine reassuringly. "I have Jon and Sharon and the rest of the family. They’ll help me get through this."

***

I book the next flight to London, gathering all the documents I might need—Davey's birth certificate, passport, and custody agreement—along with a copy of the paperwork Bethany is filing on my behalf. I find the letter Marian left me a year ago, the one where she tells me she’s leaving us. I unfold it and read it again, but the words no longer have the same impact—they're just hollow echoes of a pain that has long since faded.

Dear Noah,

I wish is could say something to make this easier, but there isn’t.

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