Ambergris Locakboxes Traveled Salt Routes by Hugh Calder 123
Chapter One Hundred And Twenty–Three. Let’s Make It Real.
Lamch had been prepared in full celebration.
A long table set with crystal glassware and fine porcelain. The chef had prepared roasted herb chicken with lemon butter glaze, creamy garlic mashed potatoes, sautéed asparagus, and warm artisan bread.
Emily insisted on tasting everything.
She laughed easily. Complimented the staff. Teased Dreston for his serious expression.
“Relax,” she told him. “You look like you’re hosting a board meeting.”
Cassienne watched them interact.
This… felt real. It doesn’t feel like a lie. Even though Cassienne felt bad about it. The fact that it put a smile on her mother’s face
made her happy too.
Dreston laughed lightly. A genuine sound.
“I’ve missed this,” Emily said suddenly, looking between them. “Id missed this special moment, sitting at a table with my daughter and her husband without worrying about hospital appointments.”
The word husband lingered.
Cassienne reached for her water glass to hide the emotion rising in her throat.
Emily noticed the movement.
“You’ve both taken good care of each other,” she said gently.
Cassienne forced a small smile. And Dreston met her eyes across the table. There was no mockery there. No coldness. Only quiet
determination.
Later that afternoon, Emily was shown to the guest suite that had been carefully prepared for her stay.
It wasn’t just a room. It had been redesigned slightly to feel warm and personal, soft curtains, fresh bedding, a small reading corner by the window.
Emily stood in the middle of it and turned slowly.
“I’m staying here for a whole month,” she said with a playful grin. “You won’t get tired of me, will you?”
Cassienne laughed softly. “Never.”
Dreston nodded. “Stay as long as you want.”
Emily studied him carefully.
“You’re a good man,” she said.
He smiled faintly. “I had good teachers.”
Her gaze shifted meaningfully to Cassienne.
“I always knew you would grow into the man I believed you could be.”
Cassienne’s words landed heavier than she realized. And Dreston felt it. Because he had not been that man. Not before. But maybe now.
Chapter One Hundred And Twenty Three fat Mors it Real
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That evening, they sat together in the living room with tea.
Emily told stories from her recovery, about the therapy sessions, about the exercises, about rediscovering her independence.
She laughed about how stubborn she had been in the beginning.
“I didn’t want to accept help,” she admitted. “But sometimes healing requires humility.”
Her eyes drifted to Cassienne.
“And forgiveness.”
Cassienne swallowed. Dreston remained still beside her.
The air shifted for just a second, something unspoken brushing the surface.
But Emily’s smile returned quickly.
“Tomorrow,” she announced, clapping her hands lightly. “I want to see your office. Both of you. I want to understand this tech world that made my daughter famous.”
Cassienne laughed nervously. “Mama…”
“I am serious,” Emily said proudly. “My daughter is a global figure now. I should at least know what she does.”
Dreston chuckled softly. “We’ll arrange a visit.”
Emily leaned back comfortably, completely unaware of the storm she unknowingly required them to navigate.
She looked peaceful, whole and alive.
And as the night settled over the mansion, Cassienne realized something quietly terrifying.
Her mother was healthier than they had ever expected.
This whole thing would not be a simple act. It would require perfection. Because Emily Rhodes was no longer fragile.
She would notice the smallest crack. And if they failed. It would not just break a lie.
It would break her heart. And that is dangerous.
Finally, it was bedtime. Cassienne had just stepped out of the shower, her hair still damp and clinging lightly to her shoulders. The soft scent of her body wash lingered in the air.
Without warning, Dreston appeared behind her.
His hands slipped around her waist, pulling her gently back against him. He lowered his chin to her shoulder, his breath warm against her skin.
Cassienne startled at first, her body going still. Then she relaxed, recognising him instantly. Instinctively, her fingers curled over his hands where they rested at her waist, and a small smile touched her lips.
“That went well,” Dreston said quietly.
“Yes, it did,” she replied. “But we need to be more careful. My mother doesn’t look like someone we can easily fool.”
Dreston slowly released her, only to turn her around so she was now facing him.
He took her hands in his and pulled her closer. One of his hands lifted, brushing the damp strands of hair away from her face with surprising tenderness.
Chegter One Hundred And Twenty–Three (efs Moko it bac
“Then,” he murmured, his gaze steady on hers, “let’s make it real.”
Cassienne’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching. She blinked, still trying to process what he meant.
But before she could respond, Dreston closed the distance between them. His lips met hers, firm and certain.
And Cassienne froze.
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