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At times, it feels like everything’s moving so fast. And I want to slow it down. But then I remember we have the rest of our lives together, so I’ve learned to cherish every moment.
We moved into our home in New York about a year ago. I also founded my company a year ago and it’s been doing well so far. The growth is steady and I’m slowly achieving a great customer base while building my reputation. I’m doing what makes me happy.
Sterling’s still doing his thing, being the big boss at Harrington Holdings. There are rumors that Sebestian’s planning on retiring fully and handing the reins over to Sterling and Spencer, but who knows. One can never tell what that old man is thinking.
Our lives have changed so much. We both strive every day to be better versions of ourselves. I’ve been going to therapy twice a week for the past three months. Sterling suggested it, andafter regular sessions, I quickly realized it was the best decision I could have made. I’ve managed to unpack all my childhood trauma—the stuff I could say out loud and the stuff I couldn’t.
I’ve worked toward expressing myself in a healthier way and opening myself up to my loved ones. It’s hard sometimes, but I have the most wonderful, patient man at my side. Everything gets better when I remember that.
They caught Lucas Rojas about a month after I confessed he might be stalking me. Sterling and my brother had hired people to investigate and they finally found him at a motel right outside of Edenton. They also found pictures of me in his bag with my face crossed out. He had been planning to hurt me, so it’s a good thing they got him when they did. I felt so much relief when I heard the news.
He’s currently rotting in a jail cell, and a nightmare I never thought would be over has been completely put to rest. Sometimes I think about the horror I had to go through living under the same roof as that man and I wish him nothing but pain for the rest of his life.
“Mama, I’m hungry,” my little girl says, rubbing her eyes as she walks into my home office.
I’d been in the middle of sorting through some ideas for a new house, but at the sight of her, every thought of work disappears.
“Stel, I fed you two hours ago,” I say on a frown.
“And I’m hungry now,” she insists.
I sigh. She’s quickly growing up to be a little terror. I blame her dad and grandparents for how much they’ve spoiled her. She used to be such an adorable little baby and now she’s a three-year-old menace.
“Tell you what, sweetheart, how about we wait for your dad to get home and then we can have dinner together?” I suggest. “Where’s your brother?”
“Bubba’s doing his homework,” she replies, brushing back her dark hair from her face.
I shake my head with a small smile. Sean Harrington hasn’t changed much. He’s still the same quiet little boy who prefers his own company to spending time with other people. But he’s warmed a little over the years as well. I can’t believe he’s already ten. My heart aches at the thought of him growing up and deciding to leave.
After checking the time on my phone, I get to my feet, grabbing my toddler’s hand. I lead her downstairs where our chef is nearly done preparing dinner.
“Daddy should be home in a few minutes, Stel. Why don’t you go call Sean?” I ask her.
“Okay,” she replies, leaving to do just that.
Sterling arrives then, looking a little tired but as handsome as ever. He pulls at the tie around his neck, walking toward me. I surge upward to press a kiss to his cheek.
“How was work, babe?”
“Awful. Spencer’s driving me crazy. It’s like he’s made it his mission to oppose every single thing I propose. We’re both vice presidents; we need to learn to work together,” he complains.
I smile. “I’m sure you’ll work it out.”
“How was your day?”
“Fine. I was home for most of it. Go get changed so we can eat. The little terror’s hungry,” I tell him.
His eyes narrow. “Don’t call my princess that.”
I roll my eyes in reply.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “Be right back.”
I help in setting the table, waiting for my family to come down. They do so at the same time, with Stella enjoying a ride on her father’s shoulders. Sean smiles at me as he takes his seat at the table.
“Hey, Seanie. You okay?” I ask.
“I’m good, Emilia. Just hungry.”