Page 51 of Vows of Deceit
The tiny girl, no more than three feet tall with Grayson’s stormy eyes and Cassie’s thick curls, paused mid-giggle. Dressed in a pale yellow romper with ruffles on the straps, Amelia turned dramatically.
“Mamaaaa,” she whined. “Daddy says hats are fordinner parties, not fairy chases!”
Grayson looked up, grinning with all the helpless charm he had weaponized over the years. “She’s not wrong.”
Cassie shook her head fondly. “And you’re not the one whose nose peels after ten minutes.”
Amelia stuck out her tongue, then twirled, her toy wand catching the sunlight. Cassie smiled. Life had rewritten itself so beautifully. She turned from the window as Grayson scooped Amelia into his arms and carried her inside.
“Mamaaa!” Amelia squealed, lunging from his arms to Cassie’s belly. She wrapped her arms around it like it was a treasure chest.
“Baby brother’s getting big,” she declared. “Is he still eating all your pickles?”
Cassie laughed. “Yes, and your cupcakes too.”
Amelia gasped. “He better not touch my strawberry swirl!”
Grayson chuckled, placing a kiss on Cassie’s temple before kneeling to kiss her belly. “Buddy, you’ve been warned.”
Cassie ran her fingers through his hair, heart full.
Five years.
Five years since everything crumbled and rebuilt.
They’d married two years after the scandal. Quietly. No press. Just close friends, a string quartet, and Amelia already toddling down the aisle with petals in her chubby fists.
The resort empire had flourished under their shared vision. They split their time between the flagship estate on the coast and a penthouse in the city. Harper was godmother to Amelia. Delia had become Auntie D, always spoiling her with designer boots and glittery things Cassie never allowed inside the nursery.
And Kelly?
Gone.
Not dead. Just irrelevant.
Cassie no longer wondered where she was or what she did. That chapter had been closed.
Now, her story was written in crayon drawings on the fridge, sleepy kisses before dawn, and the gentle weight of a baby’s kick beneath her palm.
Grayson leaned in and whispered, “You’re glowing.”
“That’s sweat,” she deadpanned. “Your son has decided my bladder is a trampoline.”
He laughed. “Sexy.”
Amelia climbed onto the couch and announced, “I’m going to name himCaptain Pickle Pants.”
Cassie blinked. “What happened to Leo?”
“He sounds boring,” she said with a decisive nod.
Grayson winked. “Captain Pickle Pants Collin. Has a ring to it.”
Cassie snorted. “You’re all banned from the birth certificate form.”
They curled together on the couch, Amelia between them, her thumb in her mouth, Grayson’s arm around Cassie’s shoulders. The house smelled like apple pie.
Outside, the sea kept rolling.
