Delia woke up with her heart pounding fast, a tightness in her chest like something had just scared the hell out of her.

The moment she came to, her first instinct was to check if someone was beside her. She reached out automatically.

Nothing.

Curtis wasn't there.

Panic rushed back in like a tidal wave, fueled by the remnants of that awful nightmare. She bolted upright, breathing heavy, chest heaving. Her eyes darted around until she finally caught the sound of running water coming from the bathroom.

He was still here. He hadn't left her.

Her whole body loosened up instantly. She hugged her knees in bed, buried her face in them, taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.

Even after coming back to life, she couldn't shake off those haunting memories. If anything, every fear, every ounce of pain from before had become even sharper.

She was terrified all this would vanish-like just another cruel dream.

The bathroom door eased open. Curtis came out in his wheelchair, dressed in a fresh shirt, his hair still damp, a light scent of soap clinging to him.

As soon as he looked up, his gaze met Delia's wide, panic-filled eyes staring straight at him.

The second she saw him, she tossed the covers aside, jumped out of bed barefoot, and rushed over without thinking.

And before he could react, she threw her arms around him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck.

She needed to feel him-to know this was real. The warmth from his skin, the scent of him, it all grounded her.

Her hug was so tight, like letting go would mean losing him forever.

Curtis froze for a moment, then slowly relaxed, letting her cling to him. He could tell how shaken she was just through that embrace.

He said nothing, only lifted a hand and gently patted her back. Comforting her, wordlessly.

A long silence passed before he finally spoke. "Couldn't sleep?"

Delia shook her head slightly, still holding on to him, her voice muffled, almost whispering.

"Yeah... had a really bad dream."

"I dreamt you didn't want me anymore. I looked everywhere, but I couldn't find you..."

She wasn't exactly lying, but she wasn't saying everything either.

Curtis's eyes flickered, but he didn't call her out. He still needed more time to get clarity from Noah's investigation.

Until then, he wasn't going to push her.

"I won't," he said simply, his arms tightening around her just a bit.

He'd made that decision last night-no matter what lay ahead, he'd stay by her side.

After a few minutes, they slowly pulled apart. Delia's face was flushed as she headed to the bathroom to wash up. Curtis had already gone downstairs, giving her a breather from the awkwardness.

When she came out, her phone buzzed on the nightstand.

One glance at the caller ID and her expression darkened.

Isabelle.

Speak of the devil.

Last time around, this was when Isabelle started getting in her head-pretending to care, but constantly urging her to divorce Curtis.

Now that she thought about it, every one of those "caring" words had been laced with manipulation.

Delia took a steady breath, shoving her anger back down before answering.

"Hello?" Her voice was calm.

Isabelle's bright, overly concerned voice came through instantly.

"Hey sis, how are you feeling? Did the talk with Curtis go okay yesterday?"

Sounding like she genuinely wanted Delia to be happy and "free."

Delia gave a tiny, cold smile that didn't reach her eyes but kept her voice neutral. "You seem more eager for my divorce than I am."

Isabelle clearly didn't see that coming. There was a short pause before she gave a couple of awkward laughs and covered with, "Of course not, I just care about you."

"You kept saying how miserable you were with him and how badly you wanted out, didn't you?"

"Really?" Delia let out a light scoff.

Thinking about what Isabelle was probably plotting, she lost all patience for pretending. "He didn't sign it."

"What? Why not?" Isabelle's pitch shot up, but she quickly caught herself and lowered her voice again. "I mean, didn't he already agree before? What happened? Did he do something again? Did he threaten you? You can tell me. Nathan and I've got your back!"

Delia could almost picture her sister's fake concerned face-it was laughable.

She responded calmly, her tone flat, "He said he doesn't want to divorce anymore. Nothing I can do about it."

"What? That's not okay!" Isabelle's voice had that anxious edge again. "Listen, you can't waver now. You've got to be firm about this. How about you come back today? We can talk it through properly. Nathan's really worried too..."

Nathan again.

Delia's eyes flickered with irritation. She'd had enough of this nonsense and cut her off mid-sentence, "I'm busy. Let's talk another time."

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up right away.

She set the phone down, took a breath to compose herself, then turned and headed downstairs.

Curtis was already seated at the dining table, right at the head. He hadn't started eating yet-just quietly sitting there.

When he saw Delia coming down, his eyes naturally drifted to her.

That look alone cleared up the lingering annoyance in her heart.

She walked over with a bright, sweet smile, "Waiting for me to have breakfast together?"

Curtis looked slightly flustered. He quickly averted his gaze, grabbed his glass of milk as if nothing had happened, and said, "It just got ready."

That clearly forced calm of his made Delia want to laugh.

She plopped down beside him with a playful grin, blinking up at him. "Oh yeah?"

Curtis's grip on the glass tightened a bit. He pressed his lips together but didn't confirm or deny it. The slight redness creeping up his ears gave him away.

Watching him like this warmed Delia's heart.

"Come on, let's eat. From now on, we should always have breakfast together, okay?"

She paused, her eyes twinkling as she added, "And if you're worried about me or anything... just say it. That'd actually make me happier."

Curtis looked up, meeting her eyes-and something in her gaze caught him off guard. His heart gave a weird little lurch.

"...Okay." He mumbled the word so softly, it barely registered.

Delia nodded contentedly.

That's more like it. Couples should be bold with each other.

She ate slowly, every now and then sneaking a look at Curtis as he quietly ate across from her.

He had such a clean, graceful way of eating-calm, quiet, with almost no sound. But that faint tiredness always lingered in his brows. The coldness, the long years of being looked down on... all of it gave him a fragile air.

Delia bit her lip.

She hadn't done enough yet.

Even if she was making the effort to get close, trying to show her love-how could that ever erase the hurt she'd once caused?

She found herself wondering: after all this... had Curtis changed the way he saw her?

Setting down her fork, she cupped her face in her hands.

A beat passed. Then she looked at Curtis and asked softly, "Hey... how do you feel about me now?"

Curtis froze for just a second. Then he went back to normal-but his chewing noticeably slowed down.

Feelings?

To him, that word just felt too heavy, too complicated.

Curtis's mind was flooded with flashes of the past-ones he couldn't stop.

Delia's sharp voice echoed in his ears, her eyes filled with disdain as she called him a cripple.

He remembered the birthday gift he'd thoughtfully picked out for her, lying shattered on the floor.

Her wild threats of suicide, screaming at him to sign the divorce papers...

Did he love her?

Of course he did.

That love might've snuck in quietly, but it had already rooted itself deep in his bones.

Even when she tore him apart, day after day, he stayed. Like some stubborn fool.

Backing down, forgiving her again and again.

Even when he was left bruised inside and out, part of him still clung to a small, pathetic hope-hope that maybe, just maybe, she'd turn around one day and really see him.

But he was close to giving up on that hope for good.

Then, just like that, she changed.

She started getting close to him, clumsily helping him, cooking meals, holding him as she cried.

She looked at him with eyes that sparkled, called him "babe," told him she loved him like she really meant it.

It felt unreal, like something out of a dream too pretty to be true.

He was confused, unsettled. His gut told him it might be a trap wrapped in sweetness.

But still, he couldn't stop that quiet joy fluttering in his chest.

It scared him.

It felt like being lost in a desert for ages-then suddenly, a mirage appeared. You know it's not real, but you still move toward it.

So what was he supposed to do?

Tell her, "Yes, I still love you. So much that it terrifies me"?

Or say, "I don't buy any of this sudden change, and I don't know if I ever will"?

Curtis slowly lifted his eyes and met Delia's gaze.

The way she looked at him-so full of hope, so intense-it felt like she could see right through him, every messy thought, every hidden fear.

His throat tightened. He bailed.

Curtis lowered his gaze and said with a calm, unreadable tone, "Your breakfast's getting cold. Just eat."

The light in Delia's eyes dimmed a little.

Still, she didn't give up. She leaned closer, pressing, "Talking doesn't make food any colder. Just tell me how you really see me now. I mean, you've got to admit, I've changed for the better, right?"

Curtis didn't answer right away.

Under the table, his hand curled into a loose fist.

Of course she was better-everything he'd ever craved.

But he worried that saying it out loud might shatter the fragile dream they were living in.

Maybe now just wasn't the time.

So, in the end, he only shook his head, keeping silent.

Seeing his closed-off expression, Delia bit back her disappointment.

She sighed and let it go, saying softly, "Fine. You don't have to tell me."

"But just so you know-I'll get it out of you eventually."

She shot him a cheeky grin, making Curtis freeze a little.

His ears turned red, and his gaze dropped to the plate in front of him.

Delia didn't notice.

She picked up her fork and quietly kept eating.

She'd hurt him too deeply before. Now, he was too scared to trust again.

But she had all the time in the world to show him-prove to him it was real this time.

After all, she owed him that much.

Breakfast ended in a strange sort of silence.

Curtis wiped his mouth with a napkin and turned his wheelchair, ready to head out.

"I'm going to work," he blurted, almost on instinct.

Just like any husband would say to his wife before leaving.

"Okay," Delia replied with a soft smile. "Drive safe."

She got up and walked him to the door, watching as he left with Noah.

Only when the car vanished into the distance did she slowly pull her gaze back.

Time to get to real business.

Delia turned and headed upstairs, returning to the bedroom.

She sat down, letting the memories from her last life at the Fleming family rush back.

Her parents died early. As the eldest daughter, she should've inherited most of the estate.

But those so-called relatives? They smiled to her face but were dying to skin her alive and snatch everything she had.

The bitterness in her chest flared up fast.

Breathe... Calm down, Delia.

She needed a solid plan. No rushing this.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, forcing herself to clear her mind.

Her phone buzzed on the table, screen lighting up with a new message.

Sender: Edward Fleming.

Her stomach twisted. Bad feeling incoming.

She tapped the screen. The message popped up:

[Delia, have you thought about the equity transfer we talked about? I'm only suggesting this for your own good. A girl managing a company is tough. Why not hand over that chunk of shares to me? I can take care of it for you. You could use the free time to be with Curtis, strengthen your marriage. Let me know when it works for you. Just sign when you're ready.]

Her fingers clenched around the phone so tightly, her knuckles went pale.

This was it. The same trick all over again.

Last life, Edward used this fake concern to coax and pressure her-plus some added whispers from Isabelle and Nathan. Dumb and foggy-headed, she signed away her power.

Curtis had tried to warn her, and she'd brushed it off.

And once she was no longer useful, Edward didn't even hesitate-cut her off cold.

Blood ties? Meant nothing to him when money was involved.

If he had no shame, why should she play nice?

Her chest burned with fury that nearly drowned out reason.

She stared at the screen, lips slowly curving into a cold smile.

Dear Uncle Edward...

Not this time.

Let's see how it feels to get trapped in your own web.

*****

Night fell, city lights flickered alive.

Curtis wrapped up his workday and returned to the villa.

Noah opened the car door and helped him settle into the wheelchair with practiced ease.

He was already ready for this.

Today, almost without thinking, he'd turned down a not-so-urgent dinner and left work right on time.

Not that he could explain why...

Was it Delia he was waiting for?

The thought lingered as he stared out the window.

But as the villa door slowly opened, something completely different hit him.

The smell of food hung warm and inviting in the air.

He could hear soft sounds coming from the kitchen.

He froze on the spot, a little dazed.

Home.

That word used to just mean walls and silence.

Or worse, the look of disgust Delia used to give him every time she had to see him here.

She never wanted to stay-even a second longer. And he got used to hiding at the office till late night.

But things were different now.

She was home. And the light was on.

The scent of food drifting out-it felt real. And comforting.

While he stood there lost in his thoughts, Delia came out of the kitchen with a plate of ribs, the glaze golden and mouthwatering.

She spotted him right away, a bright smile lighting up her face.

"You're back!" she called out, voice full of warmth.

Delia hurriedly set the plate down on the dining table and didn't even bother wiping her hands.

She jogged over to him, instinctively taking over the handles of his wheelchair and pushing him towards the dining area.

"Just in time. I made a few dishes-hope they're your kind of thing."

She was still wearing a pale pink apron, and her hair was casually tied up. A few loose strands framed her face. Delia lowered her gaze slightly, eyes full of anticipation.

Curtis had never seen her like this, and something in him stirred.

Feeling her excitement, his usually rigid frame gradually relaxed.

He looked up at the table-nothing fancy, but clearly made with care. Then his eyes landed on Delia's expression-as if pleading for praise.

He couldn't help but smile a little, his voice softening without him noticing. "Yeah. I'm home."

"Looks good." Curtis's tone was light.

Just a simple comment, but it lit up Delia's whole face.

"Really? I spent so much time on it!"

The dinner vibe was cozy and warm.

Delia kept piling food onto his plate, chattering nonstop about how she cooked each dish.

Curtis mostly listened quietly, throwing in a few words here and there.

Noah quietly set the table beside them, watching this surprisingly peaceful moment unfold. He still found it a bit hard to believe.

But even he had to admit, this version of Mr. Stockton felt more approachable.

He sighed inwardly, starting to see Delia in a somewhat different light.

Maybe... this wasn't such a bad thing.

At least for now, Mr. Stockton and Delia seemed to be getting along just fine.

*****

After dinner, Curtis went to handle some unfinished business in the study, with Noah following him in.

About an hour later, the door was gently knocked.

"Come in," Curtis said without looking up.

Delia stepped inside, a faint trace of worry lingering on her face.

Clutching her phone, she walked in slightly hesitantly.

"Babe..." she called softly, "there's something I need your help with. Can you take a look?"

Curtis finally looked up, noticed her uneasy expression, and immediately put the file down.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning slightly.

Noah subtly fell silent.

Delia approached the desk and handed him her phone.

On the screen was a message from Edward, along with an attached share transfer agreement.

"It's from my uncle, Edward. He contacted me today, said the Fleming Group's in financial trouble and needs consolidated shares to ride out the storm. He wants me to sign this and let him manage my shares."

Curtis took the phone, scanning the message and the attached document quickly but thoroughly.

The more he read, the deeper his frown.

The terms in the agreement were seriously harsh.

If she signed this, Delia would basically lose most of her benefits from the company.

He slowly looked up, his eyes sharp. "Pooling shares to survive the crisis? That's quite the strategy he's playing."

"If I'm not mistaken, you're actually the majority shareholder right now?"

Delia nodded. "Yeah... I just don't want to be involved in running the company..." She scratched her head a little sheepishly.

Curtis gave a small, warm smile before shifting tone. "What he wants is to push you out, plain and simple."

"Giving up your shares is easy. Getting them back? Not so much."

"That man... what a piece of work." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Then a thought hit him.

Delia might not be tight with the family, but she still trusted them, maybe even leaned on them a little.

Last time he gave her a heads-up, she pretty much chewed him out.

Now here he was calling Edward out like this...

Would she lose it again?

Curtis glanced at her, bracing himself for another round of backlash.

But what he saw-was her eyes slightly red.

Delia didn't get angry at all. Instead, she nodded hard. "You're right. I've had a weird feeling about it too-I just can't put my finger on it. Babe, keep talking, I'll go with whatever you say!"

So Curtis had seen right through Edward's little scheme from the start.

But in her past life, she never cared about him. Worse, she even blamed him.

Delia thought about how she'd been so blinded by family ties that she completely ignored Curtis's warning.

She'd thrown harsh words at him, and in the end, paid the price.

Now, this same man-after everything-still stood firmly on her side without hesitation, no strings attached.

Her chest ached with guilt.

Thank god... it wasn't too late.

There was still time to make things right.

Guilt and gratitude came rushing up like a wave, and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She stepped forward and leaned down to wrap her arms around Curtis, her voice choked, "Babe... thank you..."

The sudden hug caught Curtis off guard. He stiffened instantly.

Then he felt her warm tears seeping through his shirt, dampening his shoulder.

It was like her warmth burned right through to his heart, and he shivered slightly.

After a second of awkward pause, he slowly lifted his arms and returned the hug, patting her back a little stiffly.

"It's alright," he said in a low, gentle voice. "I've got you."

Off to the side, Noah looked at the embracing couple, mouth open, at a total loss for words.

Mr. Stockton... you guys do realize I'm still standing right here, right?

He silently lowered his head, trying to become invisible and zen his way out of third-wheeling so hard.

That's when Delia finally seemed to remember he was even there. She quickly let go, a little embarrassed.

Curtis cleared his throat, trying to keep it together, and started analyzing the situation again.

"Edward's intentions couldn't be clearer. Just ignore him and flat-out reject the offer."

His voice was steady and firm. "You hold the largest share in the company now. You've got the upper hand. If you're not planning to take the reins yourself, then there's no way you can let Edward swoop in and take over."

He paused briefly. "With the shares you've got, you're more than able to appoint a trustworthy successor."

"Your father put his life into Fleming Group. Don't let someone that shady take it over."

Delia listened quietly, thoughts already clear in her mind.

That was exactly her plan-to use her shareholder status to support someone capable of running Fleming Group.

That way, the company stays safe, and Edward can forget about having his way.

And as for Edward... she'd deal with him in due time.

But looking at Curtis now, seeing how serious and thoughtful he was being on her behalf, her heart filled with a sweet warmth.

She tilted her head and blinked up at him. "You make a good point..."

"So... got anyone in mind? I trust you-you've got an eye for people."

Curtis glanced up and met her playful, teasing gaze. He knew she was messing with him again.

Still, he took her seriously and gave her a couple of solid names with good reputations in the business world.

His focused, no-nonsense attitude only made Delia's heart flutter even more.

She leaned in so close they were almost cheek to cheek. "My husband's amazing. You know everything. With you here, I feel like I can handle anything... What can I do to thank you, hmm?"

Her warm breath brushed past his ear, and that soft scent of hers made his skin tingle.

Curtis's ears turned visibly red.

He looked away, obviously flustered, and forced himself to put on a straight face. "Be good. We're discussing serious stuff."

Seeing him work so hard to hide how shy he was had Delia bursting with silent laughter.

She grinned, "Alright then, I'll go take a closer look. Thanks for the guidance, babe!"

With that, she practically skipped out of the study, light on her feet.

Curtis watched her leave. Only when the door finally shut behind her did he let out a slow breath.

He reached up and touched the tips of his ears, still burning hot.

Yep. His face was definitely red.

When did Delia even learn how to flirt like that?