Trouble in Paradise by Three Way

When faced with someone's direct concern, I often found myself at a loss. Especially when that person was someone you once thought should disappear from your life.

The doctor had said I could be discharged, but Nicholas insisted I eat something before leaving. I could only agree.

I thought it would be something simple, like a bowl of oatmeal, but the hospital room door was knocked on repeatedly, and one insulated food container after another was delivered.

When everything was delivered, Nicholas opened each container, set everything on the table, and then called me over to eat.

The more genuine he was, the harder it became for me to navigate the boundaries of our interaction. I couldn't bring myself to accept it wholeheartedly. Yet, in a way, I found myself disarmed by his sincerity.

He didn't even do much he didn't push for clarification about our relationship-but something as simple as the way he handed me a spoon when I glanced at the soup bowl was enough to leave me emotionally drained. I took a sip of the soup. Its gentle warmth seemed to soothe every corner of my heart.

"What are you planning to do about Frances?" I asked.

Nicholas' brow furrowed slightly, and his hand, which was serving food, paused. "She nearly took your life. She must face justice for what she's done and for my father, she must pay with her life."

Pay with her life... I set my utensils down and looked seriously in his direction.

"Nicholas."

gazing at me as though no one else in the world existed, his hand still picking

ball of cotton lodged in my chest-neither breathing in nor out could

I was really foolish.

asked, "Do you think everyone who hurt your father

lightly. "Of

Frances raised him,

to his father had been something he'd turned a

to know that his motivation to revisit the case stemmed from me. He didn't want me to carry the burden. He wanted to protect me

wasn't too late.

reopen the case, let me handle it. I promise those who've erred will

Including... myself.

another chance to admit my mistakes. I was willing

my hand in

much