Caleb’s voice maintained an impressive calm, yet the determination woven into his words was impossible to ignore.
For the first time, Tiffany regarded him with a new perspective. A flicker of admiration crossed her mind. ‘So he can actually step up and act like a man when it counts,’ she thought.
If Julian could detach himself from his family with the same conviction that Caleb had just demonstrated, perhaps the child growing within Sydney would be fortunate enough to have a true father figure in its life.
Sydney, blissfully unaware of Tiffany’s thoughts, simply wished to extricate herself from the chaotic mess that the Hamptons had become.
Unable to suppress her irritation any longer, she interjected sharply, “I don’t care if you two decide to sever ties or not, but please don’t pull me into your drama.”
Her eyes bore into Caleb’s, fierce and unwavering. “I made it clear from the start that I don’t need your help. So do me a favor and relay that message to your mother as well.”
With a decisive motion, she slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway.
After a moment of silence, Tiffany finally broke her own stillness. “If it weren’t for that entire debacle with Penelope, things might have unfolded differently for him.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sydney felt a dryness in her throat, a knot of anxiety tightening within her. She moved toward the counter, poured herself a glass of cold water, and took a sip, hoping to alleviate the tension.
Before she could fully swallow, a cacophony of raised voices erupted outside. Once again, the mother and son were embroiled in a heated argument. Then, just as abruptly as it had started, silence enveloped the air, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake.
Tiffany, startled, patted her chest and continued her thought, “Without all that chaos, he’s actually not a terrible person.”
‘At least he’s better than Julian, who harbors resentment against his own family,’ Tiffany reflected inwardly, a shadow of regret passing over her features.
Sydney drained the majority of her glass, her voice remaining steady and unyielding. “You’re a lawyer. You should know better than anyone that there’s no such thing as ‘what ifs.’”
Time doesn’t rewind itself. People progress, whether by choice or by circumstance. There are no second chances.
“That’s a valid point,” Tiffany sighed, a hint of defeat in her voice. “I suppose I was being a bit idealistic for a moment there.”


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