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Chapter 182 

Irene tossed a dish towel onto e counter and dropped onto her so. Afternoon light hit the windows at that odd angle that made, everything look a bit too sharp, too defined. Just like the reality check she’d received at lunch. 

Her fingertips drifted to her lips before she caught herself. That night on the beach rushed back–her mouth accidentally pressed against Adam’s throat, the weight of him pressing her into the sand, hat split second when time seemed to freeze. 

“Get it together,” she muttered, yanking her hand away. 

She’d played this game before. Different house, same rules. The rich had their own playbook–one designed to keep outsiders like her from getting too comfortable. A single mom with three kids in tw? The invisible barriers went up double–thick for someone like her. 

Sophia’s perfectly timed questions about the kids‘ father had beef surgical strikes. You’re not one of us. You never will be. And Samantha’s eyes had delivered the finishing blow: Stay in your lane. 

Irene grabbed her notebook. “Distance works both ways,” she whispered, flipping to a clean page. 

She scribbled detailed instructions for Adam’s treatment regimen, the scratch of pen against paper steadying her racing thoughts. When she finished, she tore out the pages and folded them neatly. 

Alex froze mid–laugh when she walked in. All three kids looked up, their smiles fading as they registered her expression. 

“Take this to Adam’s house,” she said, holding out the folded paper. Give it to the housekeeper, not Adam.” 

Alex took it cautiously. “What is it?” 

“Treatment instructions.” Irene kept her voice neutral. “And tell them we won’t be coming over for dinners anymore.” 

The words stung her throat, but she kept her face blank. She’d already been cast out by one family; she’d be damned if she’d let her children go through that same meat grinder. 

Alex’s mouth dropped open. “Wait–what? Why?” 

Lucas and Lily scrambled to their feet, forming a tiny wall of resistance. 

“Mom, no!” Lucas’s voice cracked. “What about our game nights?” 

Lily clutched Cookie to her chest. “But Adam taught me chess last week! He said next time he’d show me that special move…” 

“Remember when those Sterling jerks came by and Adam basically told them to get lost?” Lucas pressed, stepping closer. “He’s always been nice to us!” 

A crack formed in Irene’s resolve. Adam’s kindnesses were real–that’s what made this so hard. Each gesture pulled her closer to a world that would ultimately reject her. She’d spent five years rebuilding her life after the last time. She couldn’t risk it again, especially not with her kids‘ hearts on the line. 

“Just deliver the message, please.” Her voice softened but remained firm. 

The triplets stared at her with identical looks of betrayal. Lily’s eyes welled up, a single tear tracking down her cheek. 

Irene turned away before her own eyes could follow suit. The soft click of her bedroom door closing behind her sounded far too final. 

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Alone, she pressed her back against the door and slid to the floor. “Im sorry,” she whispered. “But this is the only way forward.” 

Alex stood at Adam’s front door, staring down at the folded paper like it might bite him. Ills sneaker scuffed against the welcome mat as he fought the urge to ru back home. 

When the housekeeper answered, Alex couldn’t meet his eyes. 

“My mom wanted me to give you this,” he mumbled, holding out the paper. “It’s instructions for treatment stuff.” 

He forced out his mom’s message, each word feeling like a betrayal. Before leaving, he cast a longing look upstairs, then trudged home with his head down. 

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