"Sometimes, the past doesn't come to be fixed — it comes to test how much we've changed."
*****
(Brayden's POV)
Earlier that morning, I thought today would just be another meeting.
I never expected fate to lead me here — sitting inside Brianna's foundation clinic, surrounded by pastel walls and children's laughter.
All my life, I thought control was strength — the kind of strength that kept everything in order, kept feelings buried, and people at a safe distance.
But the moment I stepped into Brianna's foundation — into that world of crayons, laughter, and soft voices — I realized control was a fragile illusion.
Because nothing prepares you for the weight of a child's laughter when your heart is full of regrets.
It feels… foreign.
Unfamiliar in a way that tugs at something deep inside me.
I followed the nurse's directions down the hall, Sofia's small hand gripping mine, Ella walking quietly beside us.
When we reached the examination room, I knocked once, then pushed the door open.
And that's when I froze.
Because standing there — stethoscope around her neck, a familiar calmness in her gaze — was Olivia.
Or rather, Via — the woman my parents once tried to match me with.
It's been years since I last saw her, yet she hasn't changed much. The same calm aura. The same gentle eyes. But there's something new there now — something quieter, deeper. Maturity. Distance.
We once shared the same rebellion — a refusal to be used as pawns in our parents' games.
Back then, she already loved someone else. A man her family would never accept.
And I, of course, was too focused on carving out a life that belonged to me, not to my father's empire.
So, we both walked away.
She disappeared into the rural hospitals she'd always dreamed of.
I built my company from the ground up — stubborn, determined.
We never met again — until today, when fate decided to throw her back into my life.
*****
Sofia was the first to break the silence.
Her small, cheerful voice echoed in the sterile air, instantly softening it.
"Doctor Olivia can't give me shots today, because my Uncle Ray will scold you if you do."
I couldn't help but smile. Via's laughter came next — the kind that warms the edges of a cold day.
She crouched beside Sofia's bed, her tone gentle.
"No shots today, sweetheart. I just need to check your heartbeat, okay?"
Sofia nodded, clutching her tiny bunny plush close to her chest.
Beside me, Ella stood quietly — polite as always, but her curious gaze followed every move.
Via's stethoscope glinted under the ceiling light.
"Now, open your mouth, dear. Say ah."
Sofia obeyed, giggling when Via made a funny face.
That sound — innocent laughter — filled the room like sunlight.
And for a fleeting second, I forgot who I was outside this place.
No luxury suits.
No boardroom authority.
No pressure.
Just small hands, warm smiles, and a kind of peace I hadn't known in years.
When the exam ended, Via turned to me.
"Her condition's stable. But she'll still need therapy. I'll talk to Mrs. Brianna about the next steps."
Her tone softened, then shifted.
"By the way, where is she?"
Before I could answer, Ella's voice cut in — clear and casual.
"Mommy's with Uncle Arthur."
The air thickened for a moment.
Arthur.
The name tasted strange now.
Via's expression faltered before she quickly masked it with a polite smile.
"I see. Please tell your mommy I'll wait for her."
Ella nodded. "Yes, Doctor."
Then Sofia tugged at Via's sleeve.
"Can Sister Ella and I play here while you talk?"
"Of course, sweetheart. But stay on the rug, okay?"
The girls settled on the play mat near the corner, their quiet giggles filling the room — soft and innocent, like background music that made the silence between me and Via feel even heavier.
*****
It was awkward.
That kind of silence where too many old memories hum just beneath the surface.
I cleared my throat, unsure why my palms suddenly felt warm.
"Via… I never thought we'd meet like this."
She gave a small laugh. "Neither did I. You always seemed too busy for this kind of place. So, what brings you here? Business, I assume?"
"At first, yes. But now… it's more personal."
Her brow arched slightly. "Personal?"
"I came here to fix something. Or maybe… someone."
Her lips parted. "You mean her. The ex-fiancée you once told me about."
I nodded once.
"Did you finally talk to her?"
"We did," I said quietly. "Not everything, but enough."
"So… she finally told you why she left?"
I hesitated. The answer lodged itself in my throat.
"Not exactly," I admitted. "But I know now."
"And?"
I swallowed hard. "She was pregnant, Via. She left because of that."
Her hand froze midair — the stethoscope slipped slightly, the metal gleaming cold under the light.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. Then—
Slap.
My jaw tightened from the sting, but it was the truth that hurt worse than her hand.
The sharp sound cracked through the silence, followed by the dull sting on my cheek.
"What the hell—why did you—?"
Her voice trembled with fury.
"That's for letting her walk away, Brayden! Pregnant, terrified, and alone!"
"I didn't know!" I shouted, the words spilling out before I could stop them.
"She never told me! She ended everything through our parents. One day we were engaged — the next, she was gone!"
"Maybe she tried," Via countered, her eyes burning. "Maybe she wanted to tell you, but something stopped her."
Her words hit deeper than they should have. For a second, I couldn't breathe.
The truth didn't just hurt — it burned.
Maybe this was the punishment I'd been avoiding all these years:
not losing her, but realizing what kind of man she had to become because of me.
Her words cracked something open inside me.
Because suddenly, my mind rewound — to that one night I'd buried in memory.
Brianna.
Standing outside my apartment door.
Her hand on the handle.
Then… walking away.
At the time, I thought she'd just changed her mind about seeing me. But now—
Now I remember the rest.
Inside, I was talking with Altaf.
Telling him how I wasn't ready for a family.
How I didn't want to be "tied down."
Maybe she heard that.
Maybe that was the moment she decided to let me go.
My chest tightened. "God…" I muttered.
Via's anger softened when she saw my face.
"You really didn't know, did you?"
I shook my head slowly. "Not until recently."
"And now?" she asked gently. "Do you still love her?"
I met her eyes, and this time, I didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
She sighed, looking away.
"Then don't waste it again, Brayden. Not this time."
Before I could respond, Sofia's familiar voice rang down the hall.
"Mommy Bri!"
*****
We both turned.
Brianna stood in the doorway, sunlight wrapping around her like a halo.
Arthur stood beside her, tall and composed.
My heartbeat stuttered.
Via greeted her politely, and Brianna returned the smile — calm, professional, flawless.
Thank God she didn't know about the history between us.
"Good morning, Doctor Via."
"Morning, Mrs. Brianna. Sofia's doing better, but I'd like to discuss her therapy plan."
I took the cue and stood.
"I'll give you two some privacy."
Via gave me a brief nod. I slipped out of the room, leading Ella and Sofia toward the art area.
*****
We spent almost an hour there.
The children painted, laughed, and turned scraps of paper into shapes of wonder.
Ella's brush danced across the page — strokes of gold and green.
Sofia hummed a song I vaguely recognized from Brianna's playlist.
For a while, everything felt light again.
Peaceful.
Almost like I belonged.
I didn't realize how much I missed this kind of simplicity — the sound of laughter that expected nothing from me.
Then, Brianna appeared by the door.
"Lunch is ready," she said. Her voice was even, but her eyes… cold.
The kids ran out cheerfully, leaving the two of us alone.
The air shifted again.
"There's something I need to talk to you about," she said, her tone clipped.
I straightened. "What is it, Anna?"
"I'll make this quick." Her eyes sharpened. "If you ever tell anyone about our past again — you'll never see Ella."
The words hit like ice water.
"What? Who do you think I told?"
"Doctor Olivia," she snapped. "You must've said something."
"I didn't! I swear—"
"Then why does she know about our engagement?"
"How should I know? Maybe she figured it out!"
She folded her arms, frustration flashing in her eyes.
"Don't play dumb. I know about your family's little matchmaking plan with her too."
"That was years ago," I said, firm but calm. "And it meant nothing. We both walked away."
"Good," she said coldly. "Then keep it that way. Because if anyone finds out about our past—"
Her voice cracked just slightly. "I'll take Ella away from you."
And before I could say anything more, she turned and walked out.
Her heels clicked down the hallway — each sound leaving a hollow space in my chest.
I stood there, staring at the door long after it closed.
The truth settled heavily in the room.
Trust — once broken — can't be fixed with apologies.
It takes time, patience, and something I wasn't sure I still had left.
*****
And as the laughter of the children faded down the corridor, I realized something terrifying:
Maybe I wasn't just trying to win back Brianna.
Maybe I was trying to earn forgiveness —
I used to think power meant control.
But standing here, surrounded by paper cranes and children's laughter,
I realized power meant nothing without forgiveness —
and for the first time in my life,
I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to earn it.
I came here thinking control could fix what time had broken.
But as I watched Ella's laughter fade into the hallway, I finally understood — control doesn't heal; forgiveness does.
And maybe, just maybe, that's where love begins again.