The evening sun cast long shadows across the restored estate, bathing the walls and gardens in hues of gold and amber. I stood by the window of the drawing room, gazing out at the sprawling grounds. A sense of accomplishment mingled with an undercurrent of unease. Though the estate now belonged to Damien and me, the emotional battle I had endured was far from over.
The last few months had tested every fiber of my being. I had fought for my mother's legacy, for justice, and, ultimately, for myself. But now that the dust was settling, I couldn't help but feel the cracks left behind by the ordeal.
Damien entered the room quietly, his presence grounding me as always. He carried a tray with two cups of tea, setting it down on the small table by the couch.
"You've been quiet all day," he said, his voice gentle as he joined me by the window. "What's on your mind?"
