chapter 5

Chapter Five

The rain fell in sheets against the city, a steady rhythm that echoed the turmoil in Winne's heart. She sat in the corner of Adam's penthouse, the weight of the world pressing down on her as memories she had tried so hard to bury resurfaced. The glow of the city lights barely reached the space she had curled into, her knees tucked to her chest as she stared into the distance, lost in thought.

Winne had always been the resilient one, the person who kept going no matter what life threw at her. But that resilience had been forged in tragedy.

Her childhood had been far from idyllic. Born into a loving but modest family, Winne had spent most of her early years in a small town surrounded by rolling hills and open skies. Her parents, Marie and Thomas Auston, were her world. Marie, with her warm smile and endless patience, and Thomas, with his booming laugh and steady presence, gave Winne a sense of security that she would one day come to miss more than she could have imagined.

That security shattered on a cold winter night when Winne was just thirteen years old. The family had been returning from a holiday gathering, the car filled with the scent of cinnamon and pine, laughter still lingering in the air. Snowflakes danced in the headlights as they made their way down a winding road. Then, in an instant, everything changed.

Winne's memory of the crash was fragmented—a deafening sound, the sickening jolt of impact, the cold air rushing in as the car crumpled around them. When she woke in the hospital, her world had been irrevocably altered. Her parents were gone.

The days that followed were a blur of grief and confusion. Relatives she barely knew came and went, their voices hushed as they discussed what would happen to her. In the end, she was sent to live with her aunt Clara, a woman whose intentions were kind but whose resources were limited. Clara did her best, but the weight of raising a grieving teenager was more than she had anticipated. Winne learned quickly to fend for herself, to bury her pain beneath a façade of strength.

As Winne grew older, she threw herself into her studies, determined to build a life that would honor her parents' memory. She excelled in school, her intelligence and drive setting her apart. But beneath her achievements was a girl who still cried herself to sleep some nights, a girl who carried the scars of loss like a hidden wound.

By the time she reached adulthood, Winne had mastered the art of appearing put together. She secured a scholarship to a prestigious university, where she studied art history and design. Her talent and passion caught the attention of her professors, and it wasn't long before she was offered opportunities that many could only dream of.

But life had a way of testing her resilience.

During her final year of university, Winne met a man named Daniel. He was charming, ambitious, and seemed to understand her in a way no one else had. Their whirlwind romance was both exhilarating and intense, and before she knew it, Winne was pregnant. The news was both a blessing and a burden, coming at a time when she was on the cusp of achieving everything she had worked so hard for.

Winne's decision to keep the pregnancy a secret from Daniel was born out of fear and uncertainty. She didn't want to derail his life, nor did she want to be seen as someone who needed saving. When she gave birth to twins—a boy and a girl—she felt an overwhelming love she hadn't known was possible. They became her reason to keep going, her anchor in a stormy sea.

Raising them alone was far from easy. Winne balanced work and motherhood with a determination that often left her exhausted but fulfilled. She poured everything she had into giving them the life she believed they deserved, even if it meant sacrificing her own dreams.

Now, as she sat in Adam's penthouse, the memories came rushing back with a force that took her breath away. She thought of her parents, of Daniel, of the twins she had left in the care of a trusted friend while she tried to navigate her relationship with Adam. She had never told Adam about them, fearing his reaction, fearing that it might change the way he saw her.

Winne closed her eyes, the sound of the rain mingling with the sound of her heartbeat. She had always prided herself on her independence, her ability to face whatever came her way. But this—this secret, this part of her life she had kept hidden—felt like a weight she could no longer carry alone.

Adam's voice broke through her thoughts, low and steady. "Winne, are you alright?"

She looked up to find him standing in the doorway, his expression soft but concerned. He crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling before her and taking her hands in his.

"You've been quiet all evening," he said, his thumb brushing against her knuckles. "Talk to me."

Winne hesitated, her instinct to protect herself warring with the growing trust she felt for him. She had never been good at letting people in, at showing the cracks in her armor. But Adam's presence, his unwavering gaze, made her want to try.

"There's something I need to tell you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Something I've kept from you."

Adam's brow furrowed, but he didn't interrupt. He simply waited, his patience both comforting and unnerving.

"I have twins," she said, the words tumbling out before she could second-guess herself. "A boy and a girl. They're five years old."

For a moment, Adam said nothing. His expression was unreadable, his silence stretching into an eternity. Winne felt her chest tighten, fear creeping in as she braced herself for his reaction.

Finally, he spoke. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I was afraid," she admitted. "Afraid of how you'd react, of what it might mean for us. I didn't want to burden you."

Adam's gaze softened, and he reached up to cup her face in his hands. "Winne, you're not a burden. And neither are your children. I wish you'd trusted me with this sooner, but I understand why you didn't."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned into his touch, relief washing over her like a wave. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "We'll figure this out together."

In that moment, Winne felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope. For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to carry the weight of her past alone.