My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 106

Chapter 106: Chapter 106 THE LOCKWOOD FAMILY TREE

MARGARET’S POV

My once bright and full house had grown unbearably hollow—no husband to share the silence with, Ethan too wrapped up in his shiny new mate, and Celeste gone off to live with Kieran.

It was just me now, rattling around in rooms that used to be full of voices, left to make conversation with my own grief.

So when Dr. Fairchild suggested I take daily short walks, get some “fresh air for the soul,” I agreed.

I thought I would go to the park, perhaps, or stroll down the avenue where the cafés spilled into the street with clinking glasses and low laughter.

Remind myself that although my world had stopped, the one around me moved on.

Instead, I heard myself read off an address I’d inadvertently committed to memory. And I found myself staring up at a house I knew but had never sought out.

Seraphina’s home.

I wasn’t sure what possessed me to get out of the car.

My oldest daughter had made it clear—over and over again—that she had no use for me in her life.

But there I was, smoothing my blouse with trembling fingers, standing at the base of her front steps, staring at the modest little house that she’d made hers.

It was my first time seeing it. I had always assumed she lived in something temporary—a quick escape after the suddenness of her divorce.

But the ivy curling up the porch rail, the potted herbs on the windowsill, the faint scent of rosemary and earth—it was hers.

I almost turned back.

But then I thought of Dr. Fairchild’s words: ‘Make peace with your life as it is now.’ ‘Clear your mind.’

The heaviest burden on my mind was this: the yawning rift between me and Seraphina.

Edward’s words, spoken just weeks before he was so cruelly snatched from me, replaced Dr. Fairchild’s in my mind.

‘This family has been divided for too long. I believe it’s time we bring Seraphina home.’

My knuckles rapped lightly against the door before I could talk myself out of it.

There was a long pause. Long enough that I began to think she wasn’t home, and I should leave before humiliation claimed me. But then the door cracked open, and I drew in a breath.

Seraphina stood there, eyes wide, lips parted in shock.

Hair unpinned, mussed from sleep. Wearing a loose sweater and shorts. She looked...soft. Unguarded.

Not the armored daughter who usually faced me. I almost mistook her for the little girl she had once been. The one who clung to my skirts and looked at me like I was her world.

But then I noticed something else: the sweater slid off one shoulder, baring a collarbone—and a faint purple bruise.

Her cheeks were flushed—partly with shock, but partly with—

And then I saw him.

The doorway had a direct view of the stairs, and Lucian Reed descended those stairs at that exact moment, barefoot, his shirt unbuttoned halfway.

His eyes flicked to me, widening for a fraction before his face settled into an unreadable mask.

My gaze darted between them—the way Sera swallowed hard, the matching messy hair and disheveled clothing, the faint hickey.

The picture painted itself.

I lifted my chin, summoning steel into my spine. “I see I’ve interrupted.”

Sera flushed, the color high in her cheeks. “Mother, what are you doing here?”

I smiled thinly. “I was discharged a while ago. The doctor recommended a regular change of scenery. I thought...” I shrugged. “Why not see where my daughter has made her home?”

Sera snorted.

When I raised a brow, the amusement faded. “You’re serious?”

“Would I come all this way for a joke?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line, and for a second, I thought she was going to turn me around. Send me out of her home like she was determined to send me out of her life.

But then she moved aside reluctantly and sighed like she was accepting martyrdom. “Come in, then.”

I stepped into the foyer. Her home was smaller than what I was used to, of course, but not unpleasant.

Wood floors polished with care. Sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. Books stacked in corners, photographs tucked into mismatched frames.

A house that lived and breathed, evidently filled with love—like ours had once upon a time.

Still, I could not resist the words that slipped from my tongue. “This is...very much your style, Seraphina. Not sophisticated, no, but...cozy. Your father would have approved. He always preferred comfort over ostentation.”

Inside, my chest ached. The mere thought, let alone mention of her father, was like pressing on a bruise that refused to heal.

Her eyes snapped to mine, sharp as glass. “Sorry it’s not up to your standards, Mother,” she said tightly. “I know how much you value sophistication.”

“I meant no insult,” I said, folding my hands.

I caught sight of Lucian moving behind her, casual and easy like a wolf in its den.

His presence filled the house, filled the air. When he brushed his hand against Sera’s arm in a fleeting, almost protective touch, I noticed. And I did not miss the way she leaned almost imperceptibly toward it.

She’d made it clear in the hospital that she did not want me to meet him. But she was my daughter, and I had a right to know the kind of person she deigned to spend her time with.

I seated myself on her sofa, smoothing my skirt.

“Is there something I can help you with, Mother?” Sera asked.

She was still standing as if she had no intention for this visit to last long. As if she couldn’t wait to be rid of me.

“I would love a cup of tea,” I said.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify