His Knees, His Pleas, But Our Son's in Peace

medical organization tomorrow, for a

Issca's voice was calm, and it soothed me like a balm on a wound. I forced a smile, wanting to appear stronger than I felt. "I'm okay, just... processing everything. Perhaps, I need to trouble you to send me to a medical checkup...... because I haven't got my car back yet."

Issca nodded, understanding the weight of what I had been through. He looked

around my kitchen, taking in the mess of papers and the half-eaten sandwich on the counter. "You've been busy, I see."

"Yeah, just trying to figure things out," I replied, avoiding his gaze.

Issca leaned against the counter, arms

crossed. His brow furrowed in confusion.

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"How are you holding up?"

I paused, glancing down at the papers

again. "I've been through worse, Issca. Much worse. And I've survived."

He sat down across from me, studying my

face. "You look... different," he finally said.

"

"Lighter, maybe."

I smiled, though it didn't quite reach my eyes. "I feel different. It's strange, but now

that the lawsuit's over and Nathan's... well,

out of the picture, I feel like I can breathe

again."

I met his gaze, determination flooding my

chest. "I'm sure. I've wasted enough time. It's time to move on."

Issca nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, if anyone can do it, it's you, Doris."

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Next morning, Issca's car rumbled softly as it moved down the road, the steady hum filling the silence between us. He'd always been the quiet type, never pushing too hard or asking too many questions. But today, I could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts hanging in the air, just as heavy as my own.

ו

'I glanced out the window, watching the

trees blur past as we neared the medical organization. My heart raced, though I tried my best to hide it. **Tina, my wolf,

stirred restlessly inside me**, her energy brushing against my mind, both curious

and concerned.

"You're awfully quiet," Issca finally said,

his voice low but filled with a gentle

warmth. He kept his eyes on the road, but

I could tell he was watching me in his

peripheral vision, trying to read the

unspoken tension.

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I forced a smile, though I wasn't sure if it convinced either of us. "Just a routine

checkup," I replied, keeping my tone light, almost casual.

Issca nodded, but I saw the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly. He didn't believe me, and deep down, I knew I couldn't blame him. He'd known me long enough to recognize when I was hiding something. Still, he didn't press further, respecting my boundaries as he always.

did.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the medical organization, I felt my stomach twist into knots. The building loomed in front of us, sterile and imposing, its glass doors reflecting the soft afternoon

sunlight. It was a place of answers, and yet

all I could feel was dread.

Issac parked the car and turned to me, his

gaze soft but probing. "Are you sure you 18:50

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don't want me to come in with you?" he asked gently.

I hesitated, the question hanging in the air. Part of me wanted to say yes, to have him by my side. But the other part-the stronger, more determined part-knew this was something I had to face alone.

that

"I'll be fine," I said, my voice steady,

though I wasn't sure if it was the truth. "It's just a routine checkup, like I said."

Issca studied me for a moment longer,

then nodded. "Alright. But I'll be here when you're done."

"Thanks, Issca." I offered him a small smile before opening the door and stepping out into the crisp air.

I took a deep breath, pushing through the doors and into the lobby. The sterile scent of antiseptic hit me instantly, and I felt my

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heart skip a beat. It had been a long time

since I'd been here-too long, really. But today, everything felt different. Heavier.

The receptionist glanced up from her desk, offering a polite smile. "Good afternoon.

Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes, I'm Doris. I have a checkup

scheduled," I said, my voice a little quieter

than I intended.

an inte

"Doris?"

Then I heard it-the sharp, familiar sound of heels clicking on the polished floor. I glanced up, and my heart nearly stopped. There, just a few feet away, stood Vesta. My Vesta.she called, her voice filled with both shock and excitement.

The girl I once called my sister. She looked polished and professional, her white lab

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coat crisp. Her eyes widened with disbelief

as a smile broke across her face.

I blinked, struggling to find my voice. "Vesta?" My voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

Before I could react, Vesta was striding over to me, her face lighting up with the

same warmth that had comforted me

years ago.