Chapter 19
Brielle’s POV
Tim’s absence at the pool this morning catches me off guard. Disappointment flickers briefly, but I push forward-my holidays are dwindling, and today’s schedule is fixed. I’m visiting Dad in his new apartment, intending to confront the unfolding changes.
Dad’s decision to leave Mum never struck me as impulsive. For years, he’d voiced frustrations about her choices and the shifts in her personality. I recall how he rejected a promotion once, merely to accommodate her desires. But times have changed. Recently, he accepted the senior detective position after its previous holder retired. Dad’s still young, still sharp, and now he belongs in this city- a proximity I cherish despite how infrequently work might grant us time together.
Hours later, I sit across from my lawyer in his modest city office, his desk weighed down by a thick file. His sympathetic gaze meets mine as he begins explaining.
“No, Brielle, your sister isn’t pregnant,” he says with a slight shake of his head. “The latest investigation shows she’s faking it again-hoping Balen will marry her for real this time. But apparently, Balen’s resisting her schemes. Seems like your leaving him opened his eyes to her manipulations. Since your departure, he’s tangled himself in legal troubles, escalating things at the property’s gates until the situation turned violent. He was charged with assault, battery, and property destruction. His lawyer saved him from jail, but not the heavy fine.”
Spread across the table are police reports, and I find myself smirking at Balen’s unraveling.
“What about his fake weddings?” I ask, my curiosity rising.
“There’s ongoing investigation. So far, detectives have uncovered four fraudulent ceremonies spanning two years. They’ll likely dig even further back to pinpoint when this started. It will take time.”
“Could this mean my marriage to Balen wasn’t even legally valid?” A strange mix of hope and dread churns within me.
“That’s a possibility. If so, your sister might technically hold that title, while your marriage was forged. But remember-you wouldn’t face charges for this. Balen orchestrated the scam, and your sister aided him.”
The thought unnerves me. “If the media gets wind, could this jeopardize my position at the hospital?”
“No, Brielle. As a victim in this mess, your professional reputation is safe. If anything, public sympathy could bolster it further.”
I switch gears, uneasy with being framed as the wounded party. “Speaking of justice, has the jewelry been retrieved yet?”
The lawyer nods, pulling out a bag and sliding it across the desk. Inside, I find a collection of elegant jewelry boxes. I open one-a diamond necklace sparkles under the light. As I glance at the others, at least eight in total, I zip the bag shut.
“What are your plans for them?” he prompts.
“For now, they’ll go in my safe. I might donate them to charity eventually. It’s undecided.”
“You’ve got a good heart, Brielle. You’ll figure it out.”
11:08
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“Thanks for coming all this way,” I reply, rising from my seat. “Face-to-face talks make all the
difference.”
“Always, for you. And you know how to reach me if needed.”
He pauses as I prepare to leave. “By the way, have the police taken your statement yet?”
“No, but will they need it at this point?”
“Unlikely. You provided ample proof previously, and they’ve had time.”
Before heading out, I thank him again for assisting Dad’s case-even though he avoids discussing details, confident that Dad himself will fill me in during lunch.
Later, at a cozy Italian restaurant, I arrive ahead of Dad and sip coffee while waiting. When he shows up, dressed sharply in a blue suit, he greets me warmly.
“Haven’t kept you waiting, I hope?” he says, kissing my forehead before taking his seat.
“How are you, Dad?” I ask, studying his face. That lost gleam of joy seems to have returned to his
eyes.
“Happy. You’ll have to visit my new apartment soon.”
“I will. And maybe you can see my place, too. It’s more upscale than I expected, but it’s perfect- everything I need and within walking distance of work.”
“Same here,” he says with a smile. “That convenience sealed the deal for me.”
Our conversation meanders over lunch, alternating between his new job, officially starting Monday, and catching up on rumors. We laugh, bond, and savor the reconnection after years marked by tension.
As I confide in him about recent developments-the sudden sparks in my personal life-my father raises an eyebrow.
“You’ve already acted on that?” he asks, startled.
“Yes,” I admit, unflinching. “It started with me crying on his shoulder, and somehow, it led to his bed. And honestly, Dad, I don’t regret it; I see potential here. A ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement sounds very appealing right now.”
“Well,” he says cautiously, “just make sure you know what you’re doing. It’s fast-faster than I’d expect -and he’s vulnerable too, coming off a failed marriage.”
I chuckle. “You should try it yourself. If you meet a woman who inspires you to tear her clothes off, go for it. Be bold, Dad. Rid yourself of Mum’s shadow once and for all.”
His laughter matches mine as the tension dissolves. “If that opportunity arises, I’ll consider it,” he concedes. “You’re inspiring me to reclaim my life, Brielle.”
After our meal, we swing by his apartment-a space reflecting his personality, cozy yet modern. Later, he visits my penthouse and marvels at its panoramic views. We discuss future plans, vowing to make time for one another amidst demanding schedules.
The next morning, Friday brings the realization that my vacation is nearly over. Browsing local shops, I
search for work-friendly outfits, keeping an eye on cheerful designs adorned with colorful hearts-a
playful nod to my cardiology specialty. Relaxing dress codes could ease patients’ anxieties. If pediatric nurses can adopt whimsical attire, why can’t I?
Leaving my building, I run into Tim. He looks hurried, weary, but his presence alone lifts my spirits. We exchange greetings and make plans for the evening. As I continue my day, my heart feels lighter, steps
brighter, counting down until dinner. Somehow, I’ve missed him more than expected.
