Page 66 of Worth the Fall

Her words hang in the air, heavy and raw. For the first time, I see something in her I haven’t seen in years: vulnerability.

She takes a deep breath, smoothing her dress as she straightens her posture. But the tears still linger in her eyes, and for a moment, she looks at me with an expression I can’t quite place—regret, maybe, or something close to it.

"For what it's worth," she says quietly to Mia, "Felicity adores you. And that terrifies me more than anything else."

The admission hangs between us, a first crack in the wall we've built. It's not resolution, not yet, but it's something. A start. A chance.

I look between them, the woman I once built a life with and the woman I'm building a future with, and the weight of this moment settles heavy in my chest.

"This has to stop," I say quietly, my voice steadier than I feel. "All of it."

"Miguel—" Celine starts, and God, I know that tone. It's the same one she used when we were falling apart, when everything was too complicated to fix.

"No." I hold up my hand, gentler than I mean to. "Listen. Both of you." I search for the right words, the ones that might bridge this impossible gap. "This isn't about the firm, or clients, or professional boundaries. This is about family. Our family. The complicated, messy, beautiful thing we're trying to build here."

Mia stares at her hands, twisted in her lap, looking smaller than I've ever seen her. "I never meant to?—"

"I know," Celine interrupts, and something in her voice makes me look sharply at her. The perfect polish is gone, leaving something raw and real. "You never meant to fall in love with them. Just like I never meant to lose them."

The admission hits me like a physical blow. After everything—the affair, the divorce, the careful dance of co-parenting…this is the most honest thing she's said.

"You didn't lose us," I say softly, feeling her heartache it more than I expected to. "Felicity needs you. Always will." I look atMia, seeing the uncertainty in her eyes. "But she loves Mia too. Different kinds of love, different kinds of support. There's room for both."

Watching them, these two strong women who both love my daughter in their own ways, makes my throat tight. Celine's shaky breath draws my attention as she starts talking about the color-coding system, and I see something shift in Mia's eyes.

They talk about braiding hair and making princesses, and I remember both Celine's early morning patience with Felicity's curls, Mia's bedtime stories complete with voices. Different kinds of love, different kinds of magic.

"Maybe," I say carefully, watching them both, "that's the point. Neither of you needs to replace the other. You just need to find a way to coexist. For Felicity. For all of us."

When Celine moves to the window, I recognize the set of her shoulders—she's made a decision. Her admission about choosing the firm doesn't surprise me; I've known her long enough to recognize when she's testing something, someone.

But watching her vulnerability as she talks about how Mia loves us, about how good she is for us…that's new. That's real.

She checks her reflection in the small mirror above Mia’s desk, carefully fixing her makeup. “Alright,” she says after a moment, her voice steadier now. “I’ll make this right. I’ll withdraw from the firm.”

“Celine…” Mia starts, her voice unsure.

“No, Mia,” Celine says firmly, turning to face her. “This is on me. I created the problem, and I’ll fix it. You’ve got enough to deal with without me complicating your career.”

Mia hesitates, then nods, her lips curving into a small, grateful smile.

Celine picks up her bag, glancing back at me with a wry smirk. “Good luck with her,” she says, jerking her head toward Mia. “You’ll need it.”

I grin, shaking my head. “You have no idea.”

When Celine reaches for the door, I see the slight tremor in her hand, the way she squares her shoulders like she's preparing for battle. But instead of leaving, she turns back.

"Miguel?" Her voice is softer than I've heard it in years. "A word?"

Mia starts to step away, but I keep my hand steady on her back. "Anything you need to say, you can say to both of us."

Celine nods, and for a moment I see a flash of the woman I once knew - before the bitterness, before the walls went up. "I just... thank you. For letting me be part of this. For not shutting me out when you had every right to."

The words hit me hard. After everything - the affair, the divorce, the way she left— this feels like the closest we've come to real healing.

"You're Felicity's mother," I say simply. "That never changed. Never will."

She looks between us, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "Maybe... maybe we could have dinner sometime? All of us? Felicity keeps asking, and..." She trails off, uncertain.

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