Her Birthday His Forbidden Desire novel Chapter 27

**Twilight Carves Destinies by George Orwell**

**Chapter 17**

Devlin settled into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life with a smooth twist of the key. “Buckle up,” he instructed, his tone firm yet reassuring. “It’s safer if I drive you there.”

Sloane tightened her grip on the handle of her white cane, the familiar sensation grounding her in the moment. For the past several days, she had noticed a gradual change; her vision was beginning to return, like the sun breaking through a thick fog. The haze that had clouded her sight was thinning, revealing shapes and colors she had almost forgotten. She could now navigate her surroundings with a newfound confidence, moving freely without the constant fear of stumbling. Recent medical evaluations had confirmed that the damage to her optic nerve was mending—a promising sign that hinted at a future she had almost given up on. This meant… she would soon be leaving.

The car surged forward, slicing through the air as they headed toward the marina. Along the way, Sloane requested a brief stop, her heart yearning for a small bouquet of bellflowers. They had always been her favorite.

As a child, she had spent countless afternoons in a quaint cottage with her mother, the front yard bursting with rows of delicate bellflowers swaying in the breeze. Those vibrant memories were etched in her mind like a cherished painting. Later, Declan had surprised her by importing exotic varieties from distant lands, planting them throughout their garden, turning it into a colorful sanctuary. But now, all those moments felt like distant echoes, fading into the recesses of her memory.

“Mr. Sharpe, I’d prefer to go alone,” she said softly, her voice steady yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “I just want to take one last look at the sea—from a distance.”

Draped in a wide-brimmed hat and a mask, she stepped out of the car, her entire figure shrouded from the world.

Devlin offered no resistance, merely nodding in understanding. “I’ll keep the car here. If anything goes wrong, just hold down the power button—I’m set as your emergency contact.” His voice was calm, but Sloane could sense the underlying concern.

With a grateful nod, she tightened her grip on her cane and disappeared from Devlin’s sight, her heart pounding in her chest.

What she couldn’t see was the familiar yacht gliding into dock not far from her.

Standing quietly, Sloane gazed out at the vast, endless expanse of the sea, its waves shimmering under the sunlight. With gentle hands, she placed the delicate bellflowers by the fence, a tribute to the woman who had given her life.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” she whispered, her voice a soft breeze carried away by the wind. “This is your first birthday since we’ve been apart. With no grave to visit, this is the only way I can feel close to you.”

Though her tears had long since dried up, the heat in her eyes spoke of unshed emotions. “By the way… I’ve done everything I could, in my own way. I’ve fought fiercely for justice—for you. No matter how this all ends, I have no regrets.”

A faint smile touched her lips, a flicker of hope amidst the sorrow. “They say all the oceans of the world are connected. So next year, on this day, I’ll probably find myself standing on another shore… celebrating with you.”

She took a final, lingering look at the water, its beauty both a comfort and a reminder of what she had lost.

But that last glance sent a chill racing through her veins.

Beneath the brim of her hat, she caught sight of a figure stepping off a nearby yacht.

It was Declan.

Her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She spun on her heel, her heart racing as she walked away, urgency propelling her forward. At that exact moment, Declan—just disembarking from the yacht—froze in place. A peculiar jolt coursed through him. He looked up, just in time to see a retreating silhouette.

The way she moved, the curve of her waist, the sway of her hips—it was unmistakably her.

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