The CEO's Rejected Wife And Secret Heir novel Chapter 140

Chapter 140: Chapter 140: Processing

Aria’s POV – Few Days Later

The penthouse felt different now. Brighter somehow, despite the gray November sky beyond the windows. Maybe it was Noah’s laughter as he built another elaborate dinosaur fortress. Maybe it was the way Damien hummed while making coffee, content and present instead of distant and brooding.

Or maybe it was just me—lighter, freer, finally allowing myself to be happy.

"Mama, look!" Noah ran over with a LEGO creation that vaguely resembled a pterodactyl. "I made a flying dinosaur to protect our house from bad guys!"

"It’s perfect, baby." I pulled him onto my lap carefully, mindful of my still-healing ribs. "Very fierce."

"Mr. Peterson says when bad things happen, we gotta make good things to balance it out." Noah settled against me, his small weight warm and reassuring. "So I’m making lots of good things."

"That’s very wise." I kissed the top of his head. "Mr. Peterson is smart."

"He also says you and Daddy are gross ’cause you kiss all the time now." Noah made a face. "Emma’s parents kiss all the time too and she says it’s yucky."

"Does she now?" Damien appeared with coffee, amusement dancing in his eyes. "And what do you think, buddy? Is it yucky when Mama and I kiss?"

Noah considered this seriously. "Sometimes. But mostly it makes me happy ’cause it means we’re a real family now. Like Emma’s family."

"We’ve always been a real family," I said softly. "Even when things were complicated."

"Yeah, but now you smile more." Noah looked up at me with those devastating blue eyes. "You used to look sad sometimes. Now you look happy. I like happy Mama better."

My throat tightened. "Me too, sweetheart. Me too."

After Noah went back to his dinosaurs, Damien sat beside me, handing me the coffee."He’s not wrong," he said quietly. "You do seem happier. More at peace."

"I am." I leaned against him. "It’s like—I spent so long carrying this weight of anger and hurt, and now that I’ve set it down, I barely remember why I held onto it so tightly."

"Because you were protecting yourself." His arm came around me. "And you had every right to. But Aria, watching you choose forgiveness—with me, with Vivian, even pushing for Marcus to get treatment instead of just being locked away—it’s been incredible. You’re incredible."

"Stop." I felt my cheeks heat. "You’re going to make me cry and I’ve cried enough this week."

"Never enough." He kissed my temple. "You’re allowed to feel things, Aria. All the things both the good and the bad."

My phone buzzed before I could respond it was Detective Barnes.

"Vivian Monroe has completed her initial processing. She’s being released to a halfway house this afternoon as per the plea agreement. Thought you’d want to know. —Barnes"

I stared at the message, feeling—nothing. No anger, no bitterness. Just a quiet acknowledgment that this Chapter was closing.

"Vivian?" Damien asked, reading over my shoulder.

"She’s being released to a halfway house. Part of the plea deal." I set down my phone. "She’s really leaving Ravenwood and starting over."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Relieved, mostly." I sipped my coffee. "Is that terrible? She’s my sister and I’m relieved she’s leaving?"

"No." Damien’s voice was firm. "It’s healthy. You forgave her, but that doesn’t mean you have to have her in your life. Forgiveness and reconciliation are different things."

"Olivia said the same thing." I smiled slightly. "I’m surrounded by wise people apparently."

"You attract wisdom." He grinned. "It’s one of your many talents."

Before I could respond, the doorbell rang. Richards appeared from his security station."Ms. Monroe, there’s a Vivian Monroe here to see you." His expression was carefully neutral. "Should I send her away?"

I exchanged glances with Damien. "No. Let her up but Richards? Stay close."

"Already planned on it, ma’am."

Vivian looked different when she entered. Her hair was pulled back simply, no makeup, wearing jeans and a plain sweater instead of designer clothes. "Aria." She stopped just inside the door, clearly nervous. "Thank you for seeing me, I know you didn’t have to."

"Come in." I gestured to the living room. "Noah, why don’t you take your dinosaurs to your room for a bit? Grown-up talk."

"Who is she mummy?" Noah tilted his head, studying her.

I stood too, and for a moment we just looked at each other. The sister I’d grown up with. The sister who’d betrayed me, the sister I’d saved.

"Goodbye, Vivian." I didn’t move to hug her. Forgiveness didn’t require physical affection. "I hope you find peace."

"You too." She smiled through tears. "Though you seem like you already have."

"I’m getting there." I glanced toward Noah’s room, where I could hear him and Damien laughing. "I’m definitely getting there."

After Vivian left, I stood by the windows for a long time, processing.

"How do you feel?" Damien appeared beside me, always seeming to know when I needed him.

"Sad," I admitted. "Not for what is, but for what could have been. If she’d made different choices, if I’d—I don’t know. Seen the signs earlier, maybe we could have been real sisters."

"That’s not on you." His hand found mine. "Vivian made her choices. You made yours. And Aria, your choice to forgive her, to give her a chance at redemption—that says everything about who you are. Nothing about who she is."

"I keep waiting to feel regret." I turned to face him. "For forgiving her. For not destroying her when I had the chance. But I don’t. I just feel"

"Light," he finished. "Because forgiveness is for you, not her. You set yourself free, Aria. That’s what matters."

"When did you get so wise about forgiveness?" I smiled slightly. "You, who held grudges like Olympic sports?"

"I had an excellent teacher." He pulled me close. "A brilliant, compassionate, occasionally terrifying woman who showed me that being better is harder than being bitter and that it’s worth it."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." I rested my head on his chest.

"Good to know." His arms tightened around me. "Because Aria, there’s something I need to talk to you about."

The seriousness in his tone made me pull back. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing’s wrong." He led me to the couch. "But at the warehouse, when I thought I might lose you—and then at the hospital when you told me you loved me—I realized something."

"What?"