Chapter 158 Threads of Presence-2
Chapter 158: Threads of Presence-2
Claim
Ashcroft’s fingers closed around it slowly, knuckles tightening as the city lights carved shadows
across his face.
“Harper Lin… you think you can run from me?” His jaw tightened, gaze hardening as the city lights flickered past.
“You only make distance feel like a dare.”
Back in the Blackwoods’ garden, the air was thick with the scent of chamomile and damp earth. Laughter still lingered, faint and fading – like the soft glow of lanterns swaying lazily from the trees. The tea had long gone cold, untouched on the wrought-iron table, yet no one seemed ready
to leave.
The night hummed with a quiet kind of peace – fragile, fleeting, as though even the wind hesitated
to disturb it.
Maya smiled as Dominic launched into another story – this one about Julian sneaking Malia out to midnight festivals and getting caught red-handed. The group laughed, the sound easy and warm.
Jaime joined in, his grin genuine, but the strain was starting to show. His shoulders sagged, the color draining from his face. He tried to keep up, but his laughter came softer now, his breaths shorter each time.
Jaime straightened in his seat, trying to mask the fatigue etched across his face. But Maya saw it -the faint tremor in his fingers, the pale tinge around his lips, the way his smile flickered and faded
too soon.
She leaned slightly toward Damien, who was seated beside her. His eyes, calm but sharp, followed Jaime just as closely. Without a word, Damien tilted his wrist toward her and checked his watch. It’s almost ten,” he murmured softly.
Maya’s brow furrowed. “That late already?” She turned back to her brother, voice gentle but firm.” Jaime… you’ve been pushing yourself too hard. I think that’s enough excitement for one night.”
Jaime forced a weak laugh. “No, no, May… I’m fine, really.”
But the slight tremor in his voice-and the way his hand lingered on the table for support-spoke louder than any words. Maya’s hand brushed his arm instinctively, her gaze full of quiet concern.
Damien, beside her, gave a subtle nod, acknowledging the same worry without a word.
“Sweetheart,” Dahlia said gently, her voice threaded with concern, “we can all see you’re tired. Your
sister’s right-you’ve pushed yourself enough for one night. Let’s call it a day, hmm?”
Jaime straightened in his seat, trying to look composed, but the effort was clear. The faint tremor in his hands, the uneven rise of his chest-it all betrayed him. Still, he forced a smile. “No, please… I’m fine. Really.” His voice was quiet but desperate, the words slipping out before he could stop
them. “I just… I want to hear more about Mom and Dad. Please.”
The last word lingered, heavy with something that made even Dahlia’s gentle expression falter.
“I… I don’t remember much about them,” Jaime said quietly, his voice trembling. “And the older I
get, the blurrier it gets. Faces, voices… even the sound of their laughter. It’s like they’re fading, little
by little-and that scares me.”
He drew in a shaky breath, eyes glistening. “But when you talk about them like this, it feels like they’re here again. Like I’m borrowing your memories to fill the spaces I’ve lost. Every story-it makes them a little more real. Like I’m creating new memories with them, even if it’s only through
yours.”
The table fell silent-no laughter, no clinking of cups-just the soft night breeze stirring the lanterns
overhead.
Maya’s throat tightened, her eyes glistening as she blinked hard to keep the tears from spilling. Damien’s arm slipped gently around her shoulders, pulling her close in quiet comfort.
Across the table, Dahlia didn’t bother to hide her tears; they slid freely down her cheeks as she smiled through them, proud and aching all at once.
Even Charles and Eleonor, usually composed in their age-worn grace, felt the young man’s pain settle deep in their chests. Eleonor reached for her husband’s hand beneath the table, and Charles gave a small, steadying squeeze-holding himself together, but only barely.
Cedella
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.