Chapter 63
~ Franklin ~
The mont she drove away from the orphanage, my heart skipped a beat so violently I had to clutch my chest. Why did she have this effect on ? I found myself staring at the empty space where she had been, the image of her etched into my mind.
I had never looked at her like that before—not for that long, and certainly not with that much intensity. Seeing her with the children, hearing her genuine, unbridled laughter, had been pure bliss.
She looked truly happy, a radiant version of herself I hadn’t realized existed until now. It was in that quiet afternoon light that I noticed everything: the way the wind caught her dark hair, the glow of her skin, the kindness in her eyes. I felt a pull toward her that was more than just physical; it was a magnetic, terrifying ache in my chest.
My heart was doing a frantic pitter-patter that scared . I’d never felt this for her, and I couldn’t understand why it was surfacing now, just as I was losing her.
Later, Walter drove to a quiet restaurant in the Upper East Side for lunch with my grandfather.
"How did the eting at the orphanage go?" Grandpa asked, swirling a glass of wine.
He knew the business side of the trip—the corporate social responsibility initiative I was spearheading.
"It went well," I said, trying to focus. "We secured the partnership for the education program. The company will fund scholarships and provide a long-term support plan for the facilities."
"Excellent. That’s wonderful news, Franklin," he said, looking pleased.
But as he spoke, Octavia’s face drifted back into my mind. I saw her hair blowing in the wind and heard her laughter echoing in the garden. I found myself smiling at my plate, lost in the mory of her.
"What on earth are you thinking about that has you smiling like a schoolboy?" my grandfather asked, his eyes sharp with curiosity.
I blinked, trying to wipe the expression from my face. "Oh, it’s nothing, Grandpa."
"It’s definitely sothing. Tell ."
I sighed, leaning back. "I saw Octavia at the orphanage."
"You saw her? That’s a strange coincidence," he said, clearly surprised
.
"She was there to see the children. I spoke with the Mother Superior afterward. According to what I heard from the Mother Superior, Octavia visits them often, though it had been a while. She brought them gifts...she really cares about them."
"Octavia has a heart of gold," my grandfather mused, digging into his salad. "Tell , Franklin, is there any other young woman in your circles who truly cares for the forgotten like that?"
"No one," I admitted quietly.
"She’s an angel," he added.
"She is," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
My grandfather paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. He gave a long, suspicious look.
"You believe she is?"
"Just...forget I said that. Let’s focus on lunch." I tried to look busy with my steak.
"No, I don’t think I will. Did you two talk?"
"Briefly. She was as surprised to see as I was to see her. I told her why I was there."
My grandfather sighed, a look of longing in his eyes.
"If only she would co back to the estate. It’s too quiet without her."
"I agree," I said.
This ti, my grandfather stopped eating entirely. He stared at until I felt the heat rising in my neck. "What?" I asked defensively.
"Nothing. It’s just...I’ve been hearing you ntion Octavia quite a bit lately. And they aren’t the cold, hurtful words you used to use. Tell the truth, Franklin. Do you have feelings for her?"
I almost choked on a piece of at, reaching for my water and draining half the glass.
"No... I don’t, Grandpa. Of course not."
"You can lie to yourself, but don’t lie to a man who has lived three tis as long as you. I know the look of a man falling in love. It’s how I looked at your grandmother when she was alive. So, tell what’s going on in that head of yours."
I looked down at the table, my defenses finally crumbling. "I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like... even if I’m having the worst day, the mont she walks into a room, my heart does a backflip. I feel this sudden sense of peace. I find myself staring at her for so long I have to force myself to look away before she catches . I’ve never felt this, Grandpa. Not even with Bella. This feeling is...it’s scary. It’s confusing."
My grandfather was grinning from ear to ear by the ti I finished. He reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
"Franklin, my boy, you’re falling in love with your wife. It’s that simple. And it’s the best news I’ve heard in years."
"But I didn’t plan for this," I muttered.
"Love is the one thing you can’t schedule, Franklin. It’s unpredictable. It picks the person you least expect and turns your world upside down. This is the universe giving you a second chance."
"But she hates now," I sighed, the weight of my past mistakes pressing down on .
"And then there’s Clinton." I sighed.
"Love doesn’t just vanish overnight, Franklin. Rember how she looked at you? I think she still loves you; she’s just protecting herself. She needs to see that you’ve changed." He patted my hand again. "Don’t worry. Everything is falling into place. I’m proud of you for admitting it."
I didn’t say much after that. The realization settled deep into my bones. When we returned to the estate, I found myself walking into Octavia’s old room. It was empty and cold, haunted by the mories of the woman I had pushed away.
I sat on the edge of the bed, gazing around the room that used to be hers.
"So," I whispered into the silence. "I’m in love with you, Octavia."
I closed my eyes, seeing her angelic face behind my eyelids. My grandfather was right. I was completely, hopelessly in love with my wife.
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