Chapter 5 - The Westchester Return
The heavy wrought-iron gates of the Westchester estate loomed ahead, parting automatically as the armored Mercedes approached.
Claire stared out the window, her heart hammering against her ribs as the familiar, sprawling stone mansion came into view through the towering oak trees. Five years ago, she had walked down that exact driveway clutching two suitcases, feeling like her entire world had ended. Today, she was rolling back through those gates with three sleeping boys in the back and the master of the estate sitting beside her in the driver’s seat.
“You don’t have to stay here if you’re not ready,” Gabriel said softly, cutting the engine as they parked in the grand circular drive. He kept his hands on the wheel, his gray-green eyes searching her face with quiet empathy. “We have properties in Vermont, London, Switzerland—anywhere you want. We can start fresh.”
Claire unbuckled her seatbelt and looked at the grand double doors of the house. “No. If we’re going to do this, we do it right. I’m not running anymore, Gabriel. And neither are they.”
As if on cue, the rear doors of the SUV clicked open. Leo poked his head out first, rubbing his sleepy gray-green eyes, looking around at the massive stone fountains and manicured lawns with absolute awe.
“Mom? Where are we?” Leo asked, scrambling out of the vehicle, followed closely by Julian and Mateo.
“Home, buddy,” Gabriel said, stepping out and walking around to the back to lift Mateo down onto the gravel.
Leo tilted his head, staring up at Gabriel with that identical stubborn crease between his eyebrows. “Is this where you live, Dad?”
Gabriel froze for a fraction of a second, the word Dad clearly hitting him with the force of a physical blow. He swallowed hard, kneeling down to Leo’s eye level.
“It is now,” Gabriel said, his voice thick with emotion. “If your mom and you guys are willing to give me a second chance.”
Julian, the middle triplet, stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest in a posture that was a carbon copy of Gabriel’s signature stance. “Does this house have a backyard big enough for a soccer goal?”
Gabriel let out a sharp, genuine laugh—a rich, deep sound that startled a flock of birds from the nearby oak trees. “It has ten acres of backyard, son. We can put a full-sized stadium out there if you want.”
Mateo, the quietest of the three, pointed a small finger toward the grand double doors. “Can we go see our rooms?”
Claire stepped up beside Gabriel, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He looked up at her, his hand covering hers on his shoulder, his fingers intertwining with hers.
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“Your father has some remodeling to do,” Claire said with a faint, knowing smile, looking down at her sons. “Because from where I’m standing, there are currently zero rooms in this house equipped with Lego floor hazards or dinosaur bedsheets.”
Gabriel stood up, pulling Claire slightly closer by her waist, his eyes shining with a fierce, unwavering devotion. “Consider the interior designers hired, my love. Starting right now.”
