"Hey, baby, I can see your score."
I covered my eyes.
"You passed." His voice was quiet, tinged with pride. "High score too, baby."
I froze for a second, then turned. The screen clearly showed PASS.
Blood rushed to my head. I jumped up screaming.
"I passed!" I bounced around the room, dropping my study guide and not caring. "I really passed! Lucas, I can finally be a licensed nurse! I can interview at real hospitals, wear that uniform! This has been my dream my whole life!"
Lucas stood, watching me sideways, his eyes burning with intensity.
I stopped, unnerved, and touched my face. "Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have ink on my face or something?"
He shook his head, his long fingers brushing my cheek. "You're really not like those other women."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Are you bragging about sleeping around?"
"That's not what I meant." He looked exasperated.
"Then what did you mean?" I teased him. "What were Mr. Rockefeller's ex-girlfriends like?"
"They stared at my checkbook." He sounded tired. "Always thinking about next season's designer collections, society galas, Manhattan penthouses. But you're different."
"How am I different?"
"You have unlimited wealth, but you don't think about pleasure," he said, his gaze serious. "You think about using your own abilities to help more people."
Warmth flooded my chest. But I stayed stubborn. "Did you love any of them?"
"No." He didn't hesitate. "No woman has ever made me love deeper, except you."
"Sweet talk," I said, grinning so wide it hurt.
In that moment, Lucas became the husband I'd dreamed of. Generous, kind, and most importantly, starting to understand my soul.
That afternoon, we brought Theodore home from the hospital.
When the nurse lifted him out of the incubator, my hands shook. He'd gained two whole pounds since birth, his little face much rounder. When he opened his eyes and looked at me, his mouth curved into a real smile—pure and perfect, the way only newborns can smile.
"He's smiling," I whispered, as thrilled as if I'd discovered treasure.
Lucas pulled me close. "He's happy you passed, too."
On the drive back to the manor, Theodore lay peacefully in his carrier, pacifier in his mouth. Those gray-blue eyes—identical to Lucas's—studied this new world with curiosity.
The car rolled through the manor gates. Everything looked renewed. The lawn was perfectly trimmed, roses bloomed in full force, and even the ancient oaks seemed more alive. All the staff waited at the entrance, genuine smiles on every face.
Mr. Rockefeller sat in his wheelchair at the front of the crowd.
The moment he saw Theodore, it was like time had reversed ten years. His wrinkled face glowed. Light sparkled in those cloudy eyes. He reached out with trembling hands and carefully took his great-grandson.
"Welcome home, Theodore." His voice was rough but firm.
I stood to the side, watching this place that had once been so cold and full of pain. Because of this tiny life, everything was slowly healing.
Like a broken bone—with proper alignment and enough time, it grows back stronger than before.
