Page 208 of Broken Destiny

But most importantly, Cole’s presence still lingered there in quiet, unspoken ways.

My first husband.

The children’s first father.

Too many memories were woven into that place to let it go.

With time, I embraced a more relaxed approach to my professional life after completing Cole’s dream. I intentionally stepped back from the daily operations of Harris Developers, choosing instead to focus only on projects that truly sparked my interest and passion. It felt freeing—like finally allowing myself to breathe after years of carrying responsibilities that had once defined me.

I handed over the reins of the restaurant to Jack. There was no one else I trusted more with something that had become such an important part of my life. He already treated it like his own anyway.

I still visited often, not out of obligation, but because those people had become family long ago. Time spent with Cole’s family, Jack, and Maureen always felt like coming home in a different way. We shared meals, stories, laughter, and the kind of warmth that only exists between people who have carried one another through life’s hardest moments. No matter how much my life had changed, they would always remain part of it.

A couple of weeks after moving back to Vancouver, I met Harper for coffee.

The conversation had been long overdue.

I had rehearsed the conversation in my mind countless times, yet when the moment finally arrived, my voice still trembled. I told him the truth about Caleb and me, though deep down I suspected he had already known before I said the words aloud.

“I always knew your heart still belonged to him,” Harper admitted with a small smile.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered sincerely.

He shook his head gently.

“You don’t have to apologize for loving someone,” he said quietly.

Sadness flickered briefly in his eyes, but there was kindness, understanding, and acceptance there too.

Our conversation had been bittersweet, but it also brought peace.

Not every love story was meant to last forever.

Some people simply arrived in your life to help guide you toward where you were always meant to be.

One afternoon, while unboxing cartons in our new home, I came across a framed photograph of Cole with the children and me.

I held it quietly in my hands for a long moment, studying the familiar smiles frozen in time, my thumb brushing over the glass.

A quiet ache settled in my chest.

I was unsure whether to place it with the other family photos in the living room because I didn’t know how Caleb would feel about it.

Just as I was about to put it back into the box, I felt a gentle hand rest on my shoulder.

“There’s no need to put it back,” Caleb said softly.

I turned and looked up.

“I know the perfect place for it.”

He took my hand and led me toward the family room.

“It belongs here,” he continued. “It always will.”

Emotion tightened my throat, and I blinked back tears that threatened to spill over.

He stopped in front of me and cupped my face.