Chapter 4 - The Quiet After the Storm
The next morning, the sun broke through the blinds of our bedroom, casting long strips of gold across the white duvet. It was the first day of our new life, but it felt remarkably quiet. There were no frantic phone calls, no wedding planners barking orders, no schedules to follow.
Daniel had turned off both of our phones the moment we walked through the door of our apartment the night before. They lay dark and silent on the hallway console table, completely disconnected from the storm that was undoubtedly raging in the outside world.
I sat up in bed, stretching my sore shoulders. My wedding dress was hanging carefully on the outside of the wardrobe, a reminder of the night before, but the heavy veil and elaborate jewelry were gone. I felt lighter than I had in months.
The bedroom door creaked open softly. Ivy peeked in, wearing her favorite oversized cartoon pajamas, her messy morning hair standing up on one side. She was holding her worn plush rabbit by its ears.
“Mom?” she whispered timidly.
“Come here, sweetie,” I said, lifting the corner of the blanket.
She scrambled onto the bed, sliding under the covers and curling into my side. I wrapped my arm around her, resting my cheek against her soft hair.
“Is Daniel still sleeping?” she asked in a low voice.
“I’m right here, little bird,” Daniel’s deep morning voice came from the doorway. He was wearing gray sweatpants and a plain t-shirt, holding two mugs of coffee and a glass of apple juice on a wooden tray.
Ivy perked up, a wide smile breaking across her face. “Daniel!”
He walked over, setting the tray carefully on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the mattress. He reached out and ruffled her hair gently. “How did you sleep?”
“Good,” she said, her bright eyes scanning his face. “Are we still going to the park today like you promised last week?”
Daniel looked at me, a soft, genuine laugh escaping his throat. “Of course we are. Nothing changes our park plans.”
While Ivy happily drank her juice, Daniel handed me a coffee mug. As our fingers brushed, I saw the fatigue lingering around his eyes, but behind it, an overwhelming sense of relief.
“How are you feeling?” I asked softly, taking a sip of the warm liquid.
“Better than I’ve felt in ten years,” Daniel replied honestly. He leaned back against the headboard next to me. “For the first time in my life, I don't care what my father thinks of my choices. I don't care if Veronica is sulking in her estate. For my whole life, every decision I made—where I went to college, what job I took, who I talked to—was filtered through their approval. Leaving last night felt like waking up from a dream.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for what comes next?” I asked, a faint trace of worry lingering in my voice. “Your father is powerful, Daniel. He won't let you just walk away from the company without a fight.”
“Let him fight,” Daniel said quietly, his voice hard as iron. “He forgets that I hold the patents for our primary logistics software under my personal name. He forgets that our top three clients signed with us because they trust me, not because they like his golf game. If Henry wants to play dirty, he’s going to realize very quickly that he trained me too well.”
Suddenly, a series of muffled vibrations vibrated from the hallway.
We all turned our heads toward the door. The phones on the console table were buzzing relentlessly. Even with the ringers off, the sheer volume of notifications hitting the devices made the wooden table hum.
“I guess the news broke,” I murmured.
Daniel stood up calmly. “Stay here with Ivy. I’ll check it.”
He walked out to the hallway and returned a minute later holding his phone. He looked at the screen, a dry, sarcastic smile playing on his lips.
“Forty-seven missed calls from my father,” Daniel read aloud. “Twenty-two text messages from Sophie alternating between calling me an idiot and begging me to call Mom back because she’s ‘hysterically ill.’ And six emails from the board of directors asking for an emergency meeting.”
“Are you going to answer?” I asked.
May you like
Daniel tapped the screen, setting the phone back down on the nightstand, face down.
“Not today,” he said, sliding back under the covers and pulling both Ivy and me closer. “Today is park day.”
