Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 14 ⊱ For a Better Future

The soft afternoon light filters through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. I'm nestled into the plush corner of our sectional, the fabric cool against my skin. Naomi is curled up beside me, her small body radiating heat like a tiny furnace. The rhythmic sound of her breathing is punctuated by the occasional soft snore, a sound that never fails to make my heart swell.

I run my fingers through her silky hair, marveling at how something so simple can fill me with such overwhelming love. The scent of her baby shampoo-a mix of lavender and vanilla-wafts up, mingling with the lingering aroma of the Ramen I made for lunch. *I can never get enough of you.*

Just a month ago, I was sitting in a sterile hospital room, the harsh fluorescent lights burning my eyes as I waited, heart in pieces, to hear if my baby would survive. The memory of that fear, that soul-crushing dread, still haunts me. The beeping of machines, the hushed voices of doctors, the antiseptic smell that seemed to cling to everything-it all comes rushing back in vivid detail.

But now, looking at Naomi's peaceful face, her long lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she dreams, I'm overcome with a gratitude so intense it makes my chest ache. The soft curve of her cheek, the tiny fingers curled into a fist-every part of her is a miracle.

"I love you so much, sweetie," I whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incomprehensible in her sleep, but doesn't wake. Her skin is warm and smooth against my lips, and I linger for a moment, breathing her in.

*I'm the luckiest mom in the world.*

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening breaks me from my reverie.

*Cade's home.*

Carefully, I extricate myself from Naomi's side, making sure not to disturb her. The hardwood floor is cool under my bare feet as I pad softly to the entryway.

As Cade steps inside, the scent of his cologne - a mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him-fills the air. My heart lifts at the sight of him, but I can see the tension in the set of his shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. "Hey," I say softly, moving in for a hug. As he wraps his arms around me, I can feel the knots in his muscles, his body tense. "Everything okay?"

He pulls back slightly, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "It's been... a day," he says, his voice low and gravelly, as if he's been talking-or perhaps arguing for hours. He glances towards the living room. "Is Naomi asleep?" I nod. "Yeah, she was running around all day and finally went down for a nap. What happened?"

He takes my hand, leading me to the kitchen where we can talk without waking Naomi. The cool granite countertop presses against my lower back as I lean against it, watching Cade fill a glass with water. His movements are measured, deliberate, as if he's using the simple task to father his thoughts.

"The board voted today," he says finally, turning to face me. "They've appointed me as the new CEO of Sinclair Enterprises."

"Cade, that's wonderful!" I exclaim, moving to embrace him again. But there's something in his expression that makes me pause. "Isn't it?"

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It is. It's what I've been working towards for years. But that's not all." He takes a deep breath, and I can see the weight of his next words before he even speaks them. "The FBI arrested my father today. They raided his house, led him out in handcuffs. It was all over the news."

My jaw drops, my hands flying to my mouth as I gasp. I feel my eyes widen in shock, a cold shiver running down my spine despite the warmth of the kitchen. "Oh my God. What... what happens now?"

Cade's hand replaces mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. The familiar gesture grounds me, even as my mind reels from the implications of what he's just told me.

"You have nothing to worry about," he says, his voice firm. "James looked into it. The FBI has been building a case against him for almost a decade. They have enough to send him away for a very long time. There's nothing that can help him get away from this."

I search his face, trying to read the emotions behind his carefully controlled expression. There's something he's not telling me, I can feel it. But do I want to know? After everything we've been through, everything David has put us through, maybe ignorance really is bliss.

"Are you okay?" I ask instead, squeezing his hand.

He nods, but there's a hardness in his eyes that I've never seen before. It sends a shiver down my spine, reminding me uncomfortably of the cold calculation I've seen in David's gaze.

*No. Stop it. Cade is nothing like his father. He never has been.*

"I'm fine," he says, pulling me close. "Better than fine, actually. For the first time in a long time, I feel like we can finally breathe. David can't hurt us anymore."

I nod against his chest, wanting to believe him. But as I listen to the steady beat of his heart, I can't shake the nagging worry in the pit of my stomach. What if this victory comes at a cost? What if, in trying to protect us from David, Cade becomes something... darker?

But then he pulls back, cupping my face in his hands, and I see the love shining in his eyes. The warmth, the kindness that's always been there. And I remind myself again that he's a good man. That he's not his father, that he never will be. "I love you," he murmurs, leaning in to plant a soft kiss to my lips.

"I love you too," I whisper back, letting the tension drain from my body.

As we stand in our sun-drenched kitchen, the sounds of Naomi stirring in the other room, I can't help but wonder what the future holds. We've weathered so much already, but it's as if I can sense that our challenges are far from over. Call it intuition, if you will.

Just then, Cade's phone buzzes in his pocket. He reaches for it, looking over the screen, his brow furrowing slightly before he picks it up.

"James," he says by way of explanation, his voice low. "I need to take this."

I nod, watching as he steps out onto the back patio. Through the glass doors, I can see him pacing, his free hand gesticulating as he speaks. There's an intensity to his movements, a sharpness that I'm not used to seeing. When he comes back in, there's a new glint in his eye, a hint of something I can't quite place. Excitement? Determination?

"Everything okay?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual.

He nods, a small smile playing at his lips. "Better than okay. James has some... interesting information about some of my father's old business associates. Seems they're eager to meet with the *new* CEO of Sinclair Enterprises." There's something about the way he says "business associates" that makes me pause. I've heard that tone before, in boardrooms and at charity galas. It's the voice of someone who sees an opportunity, who's planning three moves ahead. "That's good... right?" I venture, not sure I want to know the answer.

Cade pulls me close, his fingers brushing away the stray hair strands from my face. "It's very good," he murmurs. "It means we can protect what's ours. Secure our future."

As I lean into his touch, I can't shake the feeling that we're standing on the edge of something monumental. Cade has always been ambitious, driven. But now, with his father out of the picture and the reins of the company in his hands, I sense a shift. A hardening of resolve, a willingness to step into territories he once avoided.

I tell myself it's for the best, that Cade will use his newfound power and connections to keep us safe, to build a better future for Naomi. But as the afternoon light fades and shadows lengthen across the kitchen floor, a small voice in the back of my mind whispers a question I'm afraid to acknowledge:

In protecting us from his father's world, is he about to become the very thing he's always fought against?