Sweet Love 2x: Miss Ruthless CEO for our Superstar Uncle

Chapter 417: The Years I Was Away

Later that evening, after the twins were in bed and the house had grown settled around them, Arianne went upstairs and found that the bedroom had changed.

The bassinet was there now, positioned beside Franz’s side of the bed. A small refrigerator had appeared in the corner near the dresser, the kind that held a few bottles and not much else. A milk warmer sat on the nightstand, its soft blue light glowing in the dim room.

Franz was standing near the window, his back to the door. He turned when she came in.

"I moved some things," he said. "I hope you don’t mind."

Arianne looked at the bassinet. At the fridge. At the warmer. "You moved the nursery into our bedroom."

"Not the whole nursery. Just the essentials. This way you won’t have to go back and forth between rooms when Lexx wakes up at night. Everything you need is right here."

"Franz—"

"I know you didn’t ask for this. I know you might want the nursery to stay as it is. But I thought—" He paused. "I thought it would be easier for you. And I want him close. I want both of you close."

Arianne crossed to the bassinet and looked down at Lexx, already asleep, his tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "I’m not bothered by it. But his crying might disturb your sleep."

"I don’t mind."

"You need to sleep. You’ve been running on less rest than I have."

"I don’t mind," he said again. "I read that babies feel calmer when their parents are near. When they can hear their breathing, feel their warmth. It helps them feel safe." He paused. "I want him to grow up knowing he can rely on us. From the very beginning."

Arianne looked at him. At the bassinet. At the small fridge and the milk warmer and all the careful, practical evidence of how he loved. "You’ve been thinking about this."

"Since before he was born. I didn’t want to push. But now that he’s here—" He stopped. "I want to do this right. I want to be the kind of father he can count on. The kind I had, mostly. The kind Alex was."

"You are," Arianne said. Her voice was low. "You already are."

She turned from the bassinet and sat on the edge of the bed. Franz remained near the window, his hands in his pockets, his expression turning inward.

"There’s something I want to ask you," she said. "Something you’ve been avoiding."

"What?"

"The years I was away. The five years after the engagement banquet. After I left Montclair." She held his gaze. "You’ve never asked me about them. Aren’t you curious?"

Franz was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was low. "Of course I’m curious. I’ve been curious for years. But I didn’t want to push you. I wanted you to tell me when you were ready. On your own terms."

"That’s very patient of you."

"It’s not patience. It’s self-preservation." He crossed to the bed and sat beside her. "I was afraid that if I asked, you’d tell me something I didn’t want to hear. That you’d been happy there. That you’d built a life you didn’t want to leave. That you’d only come back because of Alex, and once the funeral was over, you’d disappear again."

"I didn’t disappear."

"You stayed. But I didn’t know you would. For months after you came back, I didn’t know. I kept thinking: what if she wakes up one morning and decides all of this is too much. What if she decides she doesn’t have to do this. What if she comes to me and says she’s had enough of playing house." He met her eyes. "I thought about it all the time."

Arianne was silent. He continued.

"After you left Montclair, after the engagement ended and you vanished, I wondered about you constantly. Whether you were eating. Whether you were sleeping. Whether you were alone somewhere, hurting, and there was no one there." His voice was even, but something ran beneath it. "Alex would give me small updates. ’She’s doing fine. She’s working. She’s found a place to live.’ It was never enough to settle the worry."

"Why didn’t you reach out to me directly?"

"Because I didn’t think I had the right. Back then I was just Alex’s little brother. The boy who used to watch you across rooms. You had no reason to want to hear from me. If you’d wanted me to know how you were, you would have told me yourself. You didn’t. So I waited."

Arianne looked at him for a long moment. Then she reached out and took his hand. "I didn’t know you were waiting."

"I know. That was the point."

"I’m sorry. For making you wait. For all of it."

"Don’t apologize. You didn’t owe me anything back then. You don’t owe me anything now."

"I owe you the truth. About those years. About what I built while I was gone." She paused. "I want to show you. When we’re in Rohan. I want you to see it for yourself."

Franz looked at their joined hands. "I’d like that."

They sat together in the bedroom. The bassinet was beside them. Lexx slept on, undisturbed. The milk warmer cast its pale glow across the nightstand. Outside, the estate had gone dark.

"I was alone for a long time," Arianne said. "I didn’t know how to let people in. I didn’t think I deserved to."

"And now?"

"Now I have you. I have the twins. I have Lexx. I have Aunt Estella and Gio and people I trust. I have a family I never expected to have." She looked at him. "You gave me that. You waited for me, and you gave me that."

"I didn’t give you anything. You built it yourself. I just refused to leave."

"That’s the same thing."

"It’s not. But I’ll take it."

She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder. In the bassinet beside them, Lexx stirred, made a small sound, and settled back into sleep.

Next week, they would go to Rohan. She would show him the life she had built during those five years: the secrets she had kept, the work she had done, the person she had become. The last walls between them would finally come down.

But tonight, there was this. The darkened room. The sleeping child. The husband who had waited without ever asking for anything in return.