Silent Heartbeats - 5. Chapter 5: haunting memories of the past keep following carter and Jeremy

Carter opened the door to his apartment slowly, the weight of the day pressing down on him. Each step felt heavy as he entered, the familiar cold and quiet welcoming him back to his solitary existence. His mind was a tumultuous sea of questions and regrets, each one louder than the last. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

He walked over to the small table where his father's picture stood, framed by the soft glow of the still-burning incense. Sliding down the wall, Carter sat on the floor, his eyes fixed on the image of the man who had always believed in him. The room felt colder, lonelier, as a tear traced a path down his cheek.

“I've failed,” he whispered, his voice barely audible in the silence. “I promised I would make it, that I'd succeed...but I can't even keep a job.”

His eyes blurred with more tears as he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“I tried so hard, Dad. Everything I’ve tried since coming to this city has fallen apart. And now...now I don’t know what to do. I'm running out of ideas, and I don’t even know if I can last another month here.”

Carter's body shook with soft sobs, his head resting against the wall. He shook his head slowly, the despair and frustration consuming him.

“I’m so sorry, Dad. I’ve failed you. I’ve failed to keep my promise. Please...forgive me.”

***

A few months back…

*

Carter stood outside his father's room, tears streaming down his face, his vision blurred by the sheer weight of his guilt and sorrow. His aunt's voice was sharp, slicing through the air like a blade.

“You’re such a bad son,” she shouted, her words laced with venom. “You’re never going to be happy for what you’ve done. Your father has been nothing but good to you, and this is how you repay him? With heartbreak and problems?”

Carter had no words in his defense. He knew she was right. He could only stare at her, feeling utterly defeated and sad, his heart heavy with remorse. His eyes drifted to the door, behind which his father lay, fighting for his life. The weight of his actions pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe.

“Where is the man you disowned your father for?” she demanded, her voice cutting through his thoughts like a knife.

Carter's face went pale, his skin growing cold as his heart pounded violently in his chest. The question sent his mind spiraling back to the past, to a time he wished he could forget but couldn't escape. He had given up everything for a man who wasn’t even in his life anymore. But before he could linger too long in the painful memories, his aunt's angry voice snapped him back to the present.

“Do you remember what you said to your father?” she continued, her tone filled with anger and disappointment. “You told him that if he couldn’t accept the man you loved, then he didn’t deserve to be in your life, to be your father, or to have any say in your life. Do you remember that, Carter?”

The words hit him like a physical blow. Carter remembered it all too well, as if it had happened just yesterday. He remembered shouting at his father, his voice filled with anger and frustration, demanding acceptance and validation for his relationship. He remembered the hurt in his father's eyes, the way his shoulders had sagged with defeat. And he remembered storming out of the house, leaving behind a man who had always loved him, despite their differences.

Carter’s legs felt weak, and he leaned against the wall for support. His aunt’s words echoed in his mind, each one a reminder of his failure. The memory of his father’s pained expression haunted him, a constant reminder of the hurt he had caused. He had wanted so desperately for his father to understand, to accept his choices, but he had gone about it in the worst possible way.

Carter's aunt's words were like a hammer pounding on his heart, each sentence driving home the depth of his mistakes. Her voice was harsh, filled with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

“Don’t pretend to care now that your father is sick,” she snapped, her eyes blazing. “You were all he cared about, his perfect son who was all the treasure he wanted and could ever ask for, someone he sacrificed everything for, but just like everyone else, you left him. Even when you got into trouble, your father sacrificed just to make sure you were well. And now, you stand here, pretending to care?”

Carter looked utterly defeated. All he wanted was to see his father, to be with him, to somehow make things right. Staying outside that room was killing him, but he felt paralyzed by his own guilt and shame.

“I’ve made so many mistakes,” he sniveled, tears streaming down his face. “I wish I could go back and amend them.”

His aunt cut him off sharply. “It’s too late, isn’t it? Whatever was left of your father, you managed to destroy. Now he’s fighting for his life.”

She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a venomous whisper. She chuckled bitterly as she angrily wiped her tears away.

“Where is the man you abandoned your father for? He’s gone, enjoying life with someone else, and here you are, trying to act like a good son. You don’t deserve to be here, Carter. You’re just adding to his suffering.”

Her words pierced through him, each one a reminder of his failures and the pain he had caused. He had chosen his own desires over his father's love and sacrifice, and now he was paying the price.

All he could do was stand there, consumed by regret and guilt, hoping for a chance to see his father and somehow, in some small way, make things right.

***

Carter stood frozen outside the door to his father’s hospital room, his heart already heavy with guilt and sorrow. Suddenly, the sound of frantic footsteps and urgent voices filled the hallway. A group of nurses and medical personnel rushed past him, shouting about an emergency. His senses heightened, fear gripping him like a vice. His heart pounded so loudly he could hear it in his ears, a dreadful anticipation building inside him.

“No… no…” he whispered, his voice trembling.

Carter’s legs moved on their own, carrying him toward the door. As he was about to enter, his aunt appeared, tears streaming down her face, her hand covering her mouth in anguish. The look in her eyes said everything he dreaded.

He didn’t wait for an explanation. He pushed past her and burst into the room, his eyes wide with panic.

“No!” he screamed, his voice breaking as he saw them pulling a white sheet over his father’s head.

The room seemed to spin as a wave of shock and disbelief washed over him. He shoved through the people trying to hold him back, his desperate cries echoing in the sterile, cold room.

“Dad! No, please, no!”

With shaking hands, Carter yanked the sheet down, revealing his father’s face. It was pale, lifeless, but looked as if he was merely sleeping. The sight hit Carter like a physical blow, a pain so sharp it stole the breath from his lungs.

His knees buckled as he stumbled back, his body turning cold. Tears poured down his face, blurring his vision as memories assaulted him—his father lifting him high in the air when he was a child, reading him bedtime stories, tending to him when he was sick. Each memory stabbed at his heart, reminding him of the love and care he had taken for granted.

The weight of his guilt and grief crushed him as he dropped to his knees beside the bed. His trembling hands reached out, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch his father’s cold skin. The reality of it, the finality, was too much to bear.

“Dad…” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”

But the words were empty, the apologies too late. The man who had given him everything was gone, and Carter was left with the unbearable knowledge that he could never make things right. He had lost the chance to apologize, to hold his father’s hand and tell him how much he loved him.

Carter’s anguish erupted in a gut-wrenching scream that echoed through the sterile hospital room, reverberating off the cold, white walls. It was a raw, primal cry, filled with the unbearable weight of pain, regret, and guilt that threatened to consume him.

“Daaad!” he screamed, his voice cracking under the strain.

His body shook violently, the grief coursing through him like a raging storm. He clutched his head as memories flooded his mind, each one like a dagger twisting deeper into his heart.

He saw his father’s warm smile, the way his eyes would light up when he was proud of him. He remembered the sound of his father’s laughter, the gentle way he’d ruffle his hair when he was younger, the comforting words whispered when Carter had been afraid of the dark.

The memories came faster, more relentless, tearing at him—his father teaching him how to ride a bike, holding him steady, his strong hands never letting go. The way he had stayed up all night to take care of Carter when he was sick, reading to him until he fell asleep. The stern, yet loving voice that had guided him through life, always patient, always there.

But then came the darker memories, the ones that stabbed the deepest. The last argument, the harsh words he had thrown at his father in anger, the way he had turned his back on the man who had loved him unconditionally. The look of hurt in his father’s eyes when Carter had walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

The weight of his actions, the realization of how he had repaid his father’s love with rejection and bitterness, crushed him. He could hardly breathe, his chest tightening as the guilt and regret suffocated him.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” he cried out, his voice hoarse and broken. “Please, Dad… please forgive me…”

But there was no answer. There would never be an answer. The man who had always been there for him was gone, taken away before Carter could make amends, before he could beg for the forgiveness he so desperately craved.

Carter’s body folded in on itself as he collapsed to the floor, his hands gripping the cold tiles, his tears pooling beneath him. His screams turned into sobs, the sound of a heart shattered beyond repair.

***

Carter stood outside the familiar door, his knuckles raw from knocking, his body trembling with exhaustion and grief. He was a broken man, his eyes swollen and red from endless crying, his hair disheveled, and his clothes disheveled, stained with the evidence of his sorrow. The all-white outfit he wore, once a symbol of innocence and peace, now felt like a cruel irony against the backdrop of his shattered world.

His voice cracked as he pleaded, “Please, Auntie… just open the door. Just once, that’s all I’m asking. Please…”

He pressed his forehead against the door, feeling the cold wood against his skin, wishing desperately for it to give way. But it remained shut, just like the heart of the woman behind it.

From inside, his aunt’s voice was harsh, unyielding. “I already told you, Carter. We’re not family anymore. You have no right to be here. Leave immediately.”

Her words cut through him like a knife, each one deepening the wound in his heart. He knew she was angry, knew she had every right to be, but it didn’t make the rejection any less painful.

Carter’s tears flowed freely, his voice trembling with desperation. “This is my father’s house! All his memories… they’re here. I just need to be close to him, to feel him one more time. Please, Auntie, just let me in…”

He could hear her footsteps behind the door, pacing with frustration and sadness. But her resolve was firm. “You lost those privileges the day you left, Carter. The day you chose your path over your father. You don’t belong here anymore.”

Carter’s legs threatened to give out as he sank to his knees, his hands pressed against the door as if he could somehow push through to the other side. The reality of her words hit him hard. The finality of his choices, the consequences that had now come to collect their due.

“I’m begging you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible through the tears. “I just want to feel like he’s still with me, even if it’s just for a moment. I know I don’t deserve it, but… please.”

There was a long silence from the other side of the door, the only sound Carter’s quiet sobs. He could feel his heart breaking all over again, the weight of his mistakes crushing him under their relentless pressure.

But there was no answer, no softening of her stance. Only the cold, hard truth that he was no longer welcome in the place that had once been his home. Carter knew then that he had truly lost everything. Not just his father, but the last remnants of the life he had taken for granted.

His hands slipped from the door, falling limply to his sides as he leaned his head against it, his tears soaking into the wood. He was too tired to fight anymore, too broken to keep pleading. All that was left was the emptiness, the hollow ache of regret that would never be filled.

Carter slumped down against the wall, his body folding in on itself as he buried his face in his hands. The sobs that wracked his frame were raw and unrelenting, pouring out all the pain, regret, and guilt that had been festering inside him for so long. He cried until he was too exhausted to cry anymore, his body giving in to a fitful sleep right there on the cold, hard floor.

When he awoke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the stiffness in his limbs, the discomfort of having slept in such an awkward position. But that discomfort paled in comparison to the emotional agony that flooded back the moment his eyes opened.

He heard the door creak open and quickly scrambled to his feet, wiping at the dried tears on his face, trying to regain some semblance of composure. As his vision cleared, he saw his aunt standing in the doorway, her expression hard and unforgiving. The look she gave him was one of pure disdain, as if he was something she had scraped off the bottom of her shoe.

“Auntie…” he began, his voice hoarse from crying, but she silenced him with a sharp gesture.

“Don’t,” she snapped, her voice cold and cutting. “Maybe it was my brother’s mistake for having a child like you.”

Her words struck him like a physical blow, each one laced with venom. Carter’s heart clenched painfully in his chest as he listened, the guilt and shame doubling under the weight of her accusations.

“He was always so stressed,” she continued, her voice rising with emotion. “Always worrying about how to give you the life you wanted, the luxury you demanded. And what did you do in return? Chase after useless men, squander everything he worked so hard for. It’s you who’s responsible for him not being here anymore. You killed him with your selfishness.”

Carter felt like he was drowning, her words suffocating him, pulling him deeper into a pit of despair. He wanted to defend himself, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. He could only stand there, feeling the full weight of her hatred and disappointment.

But then, her tone shifted, becoming quieter, almost resigned. “But even I can’t go against a dead man’s wish.”

She extended her hand, and it was only then that Carter noticed the small wooden box she was holding. She shoved it into his hands, her expression unreadable. “He left this for you,” she said, her voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. “Once, I regarded you as my son. But now… now you’re dead to me.”

With those final, devastating words, she turned and shut the door in his face, the sound of it closing echoing through the silence like a final, resounding verdict.

Carter stood there, staring at the closed door, the box clutched tightly in his hands. He felt numb, his mind unable to process everything that had just happened. His aunt’s words replayed over and over in his head, each one cutting deeper than the last. He looked down at the box, his vision blurred with tears, and slowly sank to the ground again. The pain in his chest was unbearable, a deep, hollow ache that consumed him entirely.

He had lost everything—his father, his family, his place in the world. And now, even the last remnants of his connection to his father had been severed. He was truly alone, with nothing left but the crushing weight of his own mistakes.

Carter’s hands trembled as he knelt on the ground, the small wooden box resting on his lap. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before slowly lifting the lid. Inside, nestled carefully, was a folded letter and a small flash drive. His breath caught in his throat as he reached for the letter, his fingers brushing against the familiar texture of the paper.

With deliberate care, he unfolded the letter, his heart pounding in his chest. As he began to read, his father’s handwriting—so familiar and yet so distant—came into view. The words blurred momentarily as tears welled up in his eyes, but he blinked them away, focusing on the letter’s contents.

“My dearest Carter,” it began, and the simple salutation was enough to break him all over again.

"I’ve wanted to write this for a while, but I never had the strength to do so until now. I know that by the time you read this, I won’t be here anymore, and that thought alone breaks my heart. But what breaks my heart even more is the thought of you blaming yourself for my death. Please, my son, don’t do that. None of this is your fault."

Carter’s tears fell freely now, each word piercing through the wall of grief he had built around himself.

"I want you to know that I love you—more than words can ever express. No matter what happened between us, that love has never wavered, not even for a second. I’ve always wanted what’s best for you, even when I didn’t understand your choices. You’ve grown into a strong, independent young man, and I am so proud of you for that."

Carter’s breath hitched as he continued reading, his father’s words filling the empty spaces in his heart.

"I don’t have much to leave you, but what I do have, I’ve set aside for you. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to help you start anew, to build a simple, quiet life far away from all the pain and torture that you’ve experienced. That is my final wish for you, my son—to find peace, to find happiness, and to live a life that brings you joy."

The letter shook in Carter’s hands, his father’s love wrapping around him like a warm embrace, even from beyond the grave.

"I didn’t have the energy to write everything I wanted to say, so I’ve explained more in the video. Please, watch it when you feel ready. But for now, just know that I love you, Carter. I’ve always loved you, and I always will."

The letter ended there, the last few lines trailing off in a shaky, uneven script. Carter held the letter to his chest, clutching it as if it were his father himself, his tears soaking into the paper.

***

Present day…

*

Carter sat on the cold floor of his apartment, his back pressed against the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his legs. He felt small, defeated, and utterly alone. His tears fell silently, soaking into the fabric of his jeans as he buried his face in his knees, trying to muffle the sound of his sobs. The weight of his father’s letter and the flash drive rested on the table nearby, their presence a constant reminder of the promise he had made but was struggling to keep.

Carter lifted his head slowly, his tear-streaked face turning toward his father’s picture on the wall. His vision blurred as fresh tears welled up, but he could still make out the familiar, kind smile of the man who had always been there for him. The man he had lost.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his sorrow. “I promised you I would start a new life, that I would work hard and make you proud. But I don’t know if I can do it anymore.”

His voice cracked, and he wiped at his eyes, but the tears kept coming. “I’ve tried so hard, but everything is falling apart. There’s nothing for me here… nothing but pain and disappointment.”

The city had been full of promise, a place where he could rebuild and find peace, but now it felt like a cage, trapping him in a cycle of hurt and failure. The dream of a fresh start seemed so distant, so unattainable.

Carter’s gaze lingered on his father’s picture, his heart aching with the longing for the comfort and guidance he would never feel again.

“I don’t know what to do, Dad. I’m so lost… and I’m so scared.”

His voice faltered as he choked back a sob.

“I don’t want to give up, but I don’t know how to keep going. It’s like everything I touch turns to ashes.”

He hugged his legs tighter, trying to hold himself together as the tears continued to flow. The silence of the apartment was deafening, filled only with the sound of his quiet weeping.

Carter sat there for what felt like hours, the weight of his grief and uncertainty pressing down on him. The image of his father seemed to blur in his vision, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath.

***

Jeremy stormed into his mansion, his face a mask of simmering anger. The slap replayed over and over in his mind, the sting of it more psychological than physical. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Carter’s tearful face, heard the sharp crack that had echoed through his office, and felt the rush of emotion he couldn’t quite understand.

Dexter followed him silently, knowing better than to speak when Jeremy was in this state. The tension was thick between them, palpable, as Jeremy moved toward the living room, his movements quick and agitated. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it carelessly onto the couch, then began pacing the room, his hands running through his hair in frustration.

His thoughts were chaotic, his emotions a tangled mess. The boy—Carter—had struck him, but it wasn’t just the slap that bothered him. It was everything about Carter: the way he looked at him, the defiance in his eyes, the vulnerability that clung to him like a second skin. Jeremy felt a strange mix of guilt and anger, and he didn’t like it one bit.

The sound of footsteps rushing down the hall interrupted his thoughts, and he looked up to see his mother, Laura, hurrying into the living room. Her eyes widened in shock as she took in the sight of the red mark on his face.

“Jeremy!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with concern. “What happened? Why do you have a mark on your face? And why do you look so upset?”

Before Jeremy could respond, his younger brother, Jeff, walked into the room, his expression serious. He glanced at Jeremy’s face, then at Dexter, before addressing his brother.

“Jeremy,” Jeff said, his voice steady but tinged with accusation. “Why did you fire the poor boy?”

The room fell into a tense silence. Jeremy stopped pacing and turned to face Jeff, his eyes narrowing. The frustration and confusion that had been building up inside him since the encounter with Carter finally found an outlet.

“He slapped me,” Jeremy snapped, his voice harsh. “That boy had the audacity to hit me.”

Laura gasped, covering her mouth with her hand in shock. Jeff, however, didn’t back down.

“Did you even listen to him?” Jeff asked, his tone challenging. “Did you give him a chance to explain what happened?”

Jeremy’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “I don’t need to hear excuses. He was out of line.”

“And what about you?” Jeff shot back. “Were you out of line? Did you even consider that maybe he was telling the truth?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication. Jeremy felt a flicker of doubt, but it was quickly smothered by the anger still coursing through him.

“I don’t need to justify myself to you,” Jeremy said coldly. “I run this company, and I’ll do what I think is best.”

Jeff shook his head, his frustration evident. "I know it's your company, Jeremy, but Carter is a person—a person who probably took that job to support himself. You were so blinded by your anger that you didn’t even see past that anymore. The boy was almost molested by a client and needed support, but you're ignoring it like it’s nothing. I get that Carter isn’t as important as your high-profile clients, but that doesn’t mean he’s lying.”

Jeremy's jaw clenched, but before he could respond, Dexter chimed in, his tone defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jeff. You weren’t there. I was. I saw everything—the disrespect, the audacity of that boy to—”

Jeff cut him off sharply, his voice laced with irritation. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, Dexter. If I needed it, I would’ve asked.”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Laura’s eyes widened in surprise, and even Dexter seemed taken aback by the forcefulness in Jeff’s tone.

Jeff turned to Jeremy, his expression softening but still firm. “Look, Jeremy,” he said, staring directly into his brother’s eyes. “If Ethan were alive, he wouldn’t have wanted you to turn out like this—so cold and heartless. He was the kind of person who saw the good in people, who believed in giving others a chance. He wouldn’t have stood for this.”

Jeremy’s face tightened at the mention of Ethan. The name alone was like a sharp blade, cutting through his defenses. For a moment, his anger faltered, replaced by a deep, aching sadness. Memories of Ethan flooded his mind, memories of a man who was warm, compassionate, and always sought to see the best in others.

Jeff continued, his voice more gentle now, yet resolute. “Ethan wouldn’t have wanted you to lose that part of yourself—the part that cares, that sees beyond the surface. What happened today… it wasn’t just about business. It was about how you treat people, how you see them. And right now, you’re not seeing clearly.”

Jeremy's gaze hardened as he stared at his brother, anger intensifying in his heart. He knew Jeff was right, but he couldn't accept it, couldn't shake off the rage and hurt swirling inside him. His jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled with his emotions.

Before he could react, the sound of little feet pattering against the floor echoed through the house, followed by a cheerful voice calling his name.

"Daddy!"

In an instant, Jeremy's anger melted away, replaced by a wave of tenderness. He quickly turned to find his two boys hurrying into the house, their faces lighting up with joy at the sight of him.

“Daddy!” Andrew, exclaimed, rushing forward with his arms outstretched.

Jeremy dropped to one knee, opening his arms wide to catch his son in a warm embrace.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, his voice softening. He kissed Andrew’s forehead, feeling the boy's small arms wrap tightly around his neck.

Oliver followed close behind, a shy smile on his face. Jeremy reached out to ruffle his hair.

“How was school, Oliver?” he asked, his tone gentle.

Oliver’s smile widened. “It was good, Daddy. We learned about dinosaurs today!”

Jeremy chuckled, the weight on his shoulders lifting slightly as he listened to his sons' excited chatter. He glanced over at Jeff, who was watching the scene with a knowing look. Jeremy knew his brother was right, that he needed to change, to be the person Ethan believed he could be, but it was hard. The boys were his anchor, the reason he kept going, and seeing their innocent, happy faces reminded him of what truly mattered.

“Let's go get something nice,” Jeremy suggested, rising to his feet with Andrew still clinging to him. “I think I know just what you two need.”

Andrew and Oliver cheered, their eyes lighting up. They grabbed Jeremy's hands, pulling him toward the door. He cast one last glance at Jeff, who gave him an encouraging nod, before allowing himself to be led away by his boys.

***

Carter stood in the bustling café, waiting for his coffee, trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions that had consumed him. The noise of people chatting, the hiss of the espresso machine, and the clatter of cups helped ground him, offering a temporary distraction from the storm inside his head.

When the barista handed him his coffee, Carter offered a polite thank you and turned to leave. Just as he was about to step away, he felt small arms wrap around his legs, nearly making him spill his drink. A shiver ran down his spine, and he froze, looking down to see a pair of the most beautiful, tiny eyes staring up at him. The little boy's face was lit up with an excited smile, his cheeks rosy with joy.

The little boy shook his leg and exclaimed, “You said you were gonna visit me!”

Carter was beyond shocked. His heart melted at the sight of the boy. Smiling brightly, he greeted him, “Hey there! I was just about to, but I didn't know where you lived. That's why I haven't visited yet.”

He slowly knelt down, setting his coffee on a nearby table, and cupped the boy's cheeks.

“Who are you here with?” he asked gently.

Carter followed the direction of the boy's pointing finger, his eyes landing on a figure standing a short distance away. Carter rose slowly, his eyes catching sight of Jeremy standing a short distance away, holding the other twin in his arms. The moment their eyes met, Carter felt a surge of nerves wash over him. His breath quickened, a habit of his when anxiety hit, and he blew out a soft breath through his mouth, trying to steady himself. A stray strand of hair fell across his face, and without thinking, he tucked it behind his ear in a quick, nervous gesture.

Jeremy’s expression shifted, his shock visible as he stared at Carter. For a split second, an image of Ethan doing the exact same thing flashed through his mind—Ethan, who had often nervously tucked his hair behind his ear in just that way, with that same unintentional grace. The familiarity of the motion hit Jeremy like a wave, momentarily freezing him in place. His heart skipped a beat, and his grip on the twin in his arms tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself to reality.

Oliver's tiny hand gripped Carter's with excitement, his face lit up with a wide smile as he tugged him closer to Jeremy.

“Can Carter sit with us, papa?” Oliver exclaimed, his enthusiasm completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

Carter's heart raced as he and Jeremy locked eyes once more. Jeremy hesitated, the weight of his earlier anger still palpable but now mixed with a surprising softness.

“It's okay, if Carter, doesn’t mind,” he said, his voice holding a reluctant edge of resignation.

Carter’s mouth opened slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected offer. He nodded mutely, feeling a rush of mixed emotions. They moved to a table, where Carter sat with Oliver while Jeremy settled into the seat with Andrew.

The atmosphere was a strange blend of calm and discomfort as they sat together, trying to find some semblance of normalcy. Before any of them could fully settle into conversation, they were interrupted by a familiar face. A woman approached their table. Carter's heart sank as he recognized her—the client from the fitting session, the woman whose fiancé had tried to molest him.

The woman greeted Jeremy with a tense smile, clearly intent on addressing a matter of importance.

“Jeremy, I'm glad I met you here,” she said, cutting straight to the point. “There's no need to proceed with the designs. I've decided to call off the wedding.”

Jeremy sat in silence, staring at her, obviously being reminded of what Carter had done.

“I'm so sorry for what happened,” he began, his voice filled with regret.

But she interrupted him, her voice steady and firm. “It took me too long to realize the kind of mistake I was about to make. I’ve accepted that he was never going to change.”

Her gaze then shifted to Carter, her expression softening with genuine concern.

“I am truly sorry for the pain and distress you went through.”

Carter's face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and relief. He offered a weak, appreciative nod, unable to find the words to express his gratitude. The woman gave one last apologetic glance before walking away, leaving a heavy silence behind

Jeremy’s heart raced as he absorbed the weight of the woman’s words and the clear implications that Carter had been telling the truth all along. His gaze was fixed on Carter, and he noticed the glassiness in the boy’s eyes—the remnants of a painful experience that Jeremy had so harshly dismissed.

The realization hit him with full force, and for a moment, he was paralyzed, unable to articulate the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He wanted to apologize, to make things right, but his voice faltered.

Carter, sensing the intensity of the moment, forced a pained smile as he looked at Oliver. “I have to rush somewhere,” he said, his voice wavering. “I’ll see you properly soon, I promise.”

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Oliver’s forehead, trying to mask the turmoil within him. His movements were hurried and shaky as he stood up and quickly made his way out of the café.

As Carter hurried away, Jeremy remained seated, his eyes following the boy's retreating figure.

To be continued…