Chapter Seventy-Three

It was eight in the night, and Daniel had taken an early skip from the ongoing project at the subdivision. As he stepped into the house, a scent hit him almost immediately, rich, savory, layered with spice and something unmistakably familiar. He paused, brow arching faintly as he closed the door behind him.

This wasn't the usual calm scent of lavender diffused through the hallway or the faint trace of polished wood and fresh linen. No, this was deeper. Heartier. Something that clung to memory, the kind of meal that made you slow down just to savor it. He drew in another breath, almost smiling.

It smelled like home. Like sourleaf soup done right.

Without taking off his shoes, Daniel followed the trail of the aroma down the hall and peeked briefly toward the kitchen. The soft clatter of plates, the low hum of a pot being stirred, someone was cooking. And not just anyone.

He smiled to himself and turned toward the stairs instead. A hot shower first. A quick shower later, he changed into a soft black tee and loose slacks, then headed back down.

The dining table was already set.

Esther moved between the kitchen and the table, her hair tied up in a casual knot, wearing a soft house dress that swayed as she walked. When she saw him, she smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, but warm enough to stir something in him.

"You're home early," she said, placing a covered bowl at the center of the table.

Daniel chuckled lightly as he approached. "This is early?"

"For you," she teased, lifting the lid.

Steam wafted upward, carrying with it the familiar, nostalgic smell of perfectly prepared sourleaf soup. And right next to it, a soft mound of fufu rested in a warming bowl.

"Wow, is this what I think it is" he asked, half amused

"Absolutely" Esther assured with a replicated smile.

He stared at the food, then at her, suspiciously amused. "What's the occasion?"

Esther shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Nothing. I just asked Aunt Bell earlier what your favorite food was. Thought I'd try making it."

Daniel sat slowly, his gaze still locked on her. "Just like that?"

"Just like that," she echoed with a soft smile, handing him a spoon. "I was going to make it with bitter leaf, but that would've taken hours," she added, gesturing for him to taste it.

Daniel dipped the spoon into the soup, brought it to his lips, and the moment it touched his tongue, a slow, satisfied hum escaped his throat. He didn't speak right away, just sat there, letting the taste settle, letting the layers unfold.

It was familiar. Deeply so.

A flavor woven with memory, warmth, mischief, and the echo of laughter. It reminded him of shared jokes in the kitchen, of lazy Saturday afternoons, of his mother's hands stirring a pot that smelled just like this. His chest tightened slightly, but he didn't show it.

"You know what, I'm going to need to wash my hands," he said, glancing at Mather, who instinctively turned and returned moments later with a bowl of clean water.

Daniel dipped his hands into the bowl, rinsing them thoroughly, the warm water running over his fingers. Once done, he reached for the fufu with his dominant hand and dipped it into the rich, steaming soup.

"This…" he said, pointing his at the bowl, "is dangerously close to perfection."

Esther let out a small laugh. "Dangerously?"

"Because now I'll expect it every week."

She grinned but said nothing, sitting across from him with her own plate, though she barely touched her food.

Daniel took another bite, slower this time. "So… what's the real reason behind this?" he asked, not unkindly.

Esther lifted her eyes to meet his, and though her smile held, he could see the shadow beneath it.

"I just wanted you in a good mood," she said quietly, fingers lacing and unlacing beneath the table.

"And why's that?" he asked, his voice gentler now, watching her with quiet curiosity.

"Well…" Esther began, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her dress. But before the words could leave her mouth, a voice called out, cutting clean through the moment.

"Esther mom, can you help me with my assignment?" Betty called from the stairs, her tone earnest and clear.

Esther turned at once, rising to her feet with a soft sigh, her moment slipping away. "Of course," she said quickly, brushing a hand over Daniel's shoulder as she moved past him. She met Betty halfway, took her hand, and led her up to her room.

Daniel remained seated at the table, alone with the warmth of the meal and the silence it left behind. He let out a soft hum as he picked through the tender meats in the soup, savoring the familiar flavors, ones that tugged at old memories and stirred something deeper.

By the time the last word of Betty's assignment was scribbled in her notebook, the house had quieted into its nightly rhythm. Esther had stayed beside her, offering soft encouragement and the occasional correction, watching with fond amusement as Betty's brows furrowed in thought. When they finally closed the book and dimmed the lights, she kissed her goodnight and stepped into the hallway, her thoughts already returning to the unfinished conversation downstairs.

Now, back in their room, she found Daniel seated on the edge of the bed, still in his undershirt and lounge pants, a tablet resting loosely in one hand. The overhead light cast soft shadows across his face, but he looked up at her the moment she entered, as if he'd been waiting.

She crossed the room in silence, the tension from earlier gently threading back into the quiet. Sitting beside him, she smoothed the fabric of her wrapper with slow fingers, searching for the right way to begin. The earlier warmth of the meal lingered, but the ease between them had shifted. Something unspoken still hovered.

"I didn't forget what I was saying," she said gently, turning to face him.

Daniel set the tablet aside and leaned back slightly, his attention fully hers now.

"I'm listening," he said, voice low and steady.

Esther exhaled, eyes briefly dropping to her hands in her lap before lifting to meet his. "It's about Sarah," she said softly.

Daniel's gaze didn't waver, but his expression shifted, subtle, unreadable. "What about her?"

Esther took a slow breath. "Ma dropped by this morning and…" She hesitated, then pushed through, voice quiet. "Mr. Lewis, I know it's a lot to ask, but… can you please give Sarah back her job?"

The words seemed to hang in the space between them.

Daniel looked at her for a long moment, then reached over, gently tapping her jittery fingers. "Esther," he said softly, lifting her chin so she couldn't turn away. "Is that what you want?"

She blinked, lips parting, but no words came. The truth was complicated. Did she want Sarah back at LewisTech? No. Not really. But…

Daniel's voice lowered. "You're being pressured, I can see that. But be honest with yourself. After everything she's done, are you really okay with this?"

"No," she admitted, the word slipping out before she could restrain it. "No, I'm not. If it were up to me, I wouldn't even be having this conversation. I want nothing to do with her. But…"

Her voice softened, weary. "Ma keeps holding onto this idea of us being close, united. She's been crying over it. And I, I just don't want her hurting or blaming herself for our choices."

Daniel nodded slowly, understanding flickering in his eyes. "So this isn't about Sarah. It's about protecting your mother."

Esther gave a faint nod. "Exactly. That's all it is."

A quiet pause stretched between them. Then Daniel leaned back with a thoughtful sigh. "Alright," he said. "I'll speak to Thomas in the morning. He'll find her a position."

Her brows lifted slightly. "You'd do that?"

"I'm doing it for you. And for your mother," he said. "But I won't let her cross any more lines. This is her last chance."

Daniel ran his thumb gently across the back of her hand, then looked into her eyes with a quiet intensity. "Esther," he said, his voice calm but resolute, "I need you to promise me something too."

She looked up, puzzled. "What is it?"

"If anyone, and I mean anyone, tries to pressure you like that again, even your mother, I want you to tell me. Don't carry it alone. And don't let them make you feel like your peace should come second."

Her gaze held his for a beat, then she nodded. "I promise. I won't let it happen again."

"Good," he said, his expression softening. "You have every right to choose who you allow in your space… and your life."

Their eyes lingered on each other. The air between them shifted, no longer heavy with conflict, but laced with something warmer, deeper. Daniel leaned in, brushing a hand along her cheek, and this time, when he kissed her, it was unhurried, tender and searching.

Esther responded, her hand sliding to his chest. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel everything she'd been trying to hold back, the safety of him, the pull, the ache she'd hidden behind careful smiles. The kiss deepened.

But then, just as quickly, she tensed. Her breath caught and she pulled away, her hand flattening lightly against his chest to create space.

"I, I haven't tucked Betty in," she said abruptly, rising to her feet. "She's probably still awake."

Before he could say anything, she was already halfway across the room.

"Esther," he called, confused, his voice edged with concern.

But she didn't look back.

"Goodnight," she said softly, and slipped out the door, leaving Daniel behind, his heart stirred and stilled at once, unsure of what had just unraveled in her.

Betty looked up from her book the moment Esther stepped into the room, her small face scrunching in curiosity. "Esther mom, what are you doing here?."

"I came to tuck you in and maybe read you a story," Esther said as she stepped fully into the room, gently closing the door behind her.

"But… you already did that," Betty replied, eyeing her with playful suspicion.

Esther chuckled, brushing a hand through her hair as she crossed the room. "Well, I thought I'd do it again tonight," she said, trying to sound casual.

Betty narrowed her eyes, her grin growing. "You look like you're running away from something."

"I'm not," Esther replied too quickly, then sighed with a sheepish smile. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

The girl's face lit up. "Seriously? You want to sleep in my room?"

"If that's okay with you."

"More than okay! I was planning on doing that at weekend" she beamed, scooting over and lifting her blanket.

Esther slipped into the bed beside her, the mattress dipping gently beneath her weight. Betty tucked herself into her side, content and sleepy. But Esther's thoughts drifted elsewhere.

As the lights dimmed and silence wrapped around them, her mind wandered back to the room she had fled. To the kiss, to Daniel's hands, to the warmth that had stirred a longing she wasn't ready to confront again, not so soon.

Their days had been a whirlwind of emotions, late nights, shared glances, stolen kisses… and more. And though part of her ached to stay close to him, another part, one she couldn't ignore, just felt… worn.

She turned slightly, adjusting her body around Betty's, drawing strength from the steady rise and fall of the little girl's breathing.

She wasn't afraid of Daniel. But if he touched her again like that tonight, she wasn't sure what would be left of her by morning.

Her body needed rest. Her heart needed space.

And wrapped in the warmth of Betty's room, she finally let herself exhale.

Esther stepped quietly into their bedroom just as the morning light filtered softly through the curtains. Daniel stood near the mirror, half-dressed, his shirt tucked in but his tie still hanging loose around his neck.

He caught her reflection in the mirror and turned. "Good Morning," he said, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

"Morning," she replied, walking over. Without another word, she reached for the tie and began knotting it gently, her fingers brushing against his chest.

Daniel watched her, silent for a moment before finally asking, "You didn't come back last night."

Her hands paused briefly, then continued moving. "I must've fallen asleep," she said lightly, not quite meeting his gaze. "I didn't take notice of time "

He didn't press, but the way his eyes held hers said he didn't fully believe her. Still, he let it slide.

As she tightened the last fold and smoothed the tie down his chest, he leaned in, brushing a hand around her waist. His lips found hers, warm, slow, but just as it deepened, Esther gently pulled away.

"I almost forgot," she said quickly, stepping back, trying to catch her breath. "I got the job. At Central Hospital. The one I applied for."

Daniel blinked, the tension between them shifting. "You did?"

She nodded. "Child psychology department. Professor Turay spoke on my behalf."

A genuine smile broke across his face. "Esther, that's incredible. I'm so proud of you."

She smiled too, grateful for the moment, grateful to be able to share something that felt just hers. "Thank you," she said softly, folding her arms around herself.

Daniel studied her a beat longer, sensing the walls she hadn't quite lowered yet. But he kissed her forehead instead, giving her space.

"Let me know if you want me to call someone to help with the onboarding," he said as he reached for his blazer.

"I will," she replied, watching him quietly as he stepped out the door.

A sigh escaped her lips as the weight of guilt settled in. She had been the one building distance between them.

By 9 a.m., Daniel was already settled in his offic

Trailing behind Thomas, Sarah stepped into the building with her head down, avoiding the stares of colleagues. Whispers of her lies had likely spread, and she was no longer the figure of status she once paraded herself as.

After their first elevator ride, they arrived at the HR department. Thomas knocked once on Hawa's office door before stepping in.

"Good morning," he greeted.

Hawa returned the greeting with a polite smile, though her eyes quickly flicked to the figure behind him.

"Mr. Lewis instructed that she be placed in a position aligned with her actual qualifications," Thomas said, stressing the word actual. With that, he turned and left, leaving Sarah in Hawa's care.

Hawa eyed the papers Thomas had left, her lips curling into a faint, mocking smile.

"Let's see… Sarah Williams. Oh wait, my apologies, Sarah Cole," she said deliberately.

Sarah clenched her fists but said nothing. She swallowed the insult. She was here for a reason—and she'd endure whatever it took.

"Not quite the dignified profile you boasted about," Hawa muttered as she skimmed the resume. "Even your diploma is unaccredited. You had two references but failed to sit for the assessments," she said with a shake of her head.

"Can we move past that already?" Sarah snapped, her patience thinning. "Just place me somewhere. I worked as Mr. Lewis's secretary for three years. Something in that line will do."

"Sorry, but no," Hawa replied, closing the folder. "You're not qualified for that role."

"But I.."

"But nothing," Hawa cut in coldly. "You held that position based on lies and forged documents. Now that the truth is out, you'll be placed where your actual diploma deems fit." She stood, brushing down her skirt, and headed for the door. "Follow me."

In under two minutes, they were in the marketing department. Hawa spoke briefly with the department head, Moses, before stepping out to address Sarah.

"All set. You've been placed," she said lightly, clapping her hands together once.

Sarah blinked, her tone sharp and irritated. "Excuse me? What is this?"

"You'll be working here as a department helper," Hawa said calmly.

"A helper? You're kidding, right? I'm not anyone's assistant!"

"Oh no, not assistant," Hawa corrected with a grin. "You're more of a handywoman. You'll run errands, make copies, fetch food or drinks, whatever they need. And yes, you'll be paid."

Sarah's face flushed with fury. "I'm Mr. Lewis's sister-in-law! How dare you treat me like this?"

Hawa didn't flinch. "Exactly, you're his sister-in-law. Not his wife. You're lucky he even let you back in after the lies you told. Be grateful. Do the job, or I'll have you out of here in five minutes." With that, she walked off toward the elevator, heels clicking with purpose.

Sarah stood frozen, eyes burning with fury, her nails digging into her palms.

How dare they? How dare she?

They were all going to pay for this.

"Sarah, could you get me a coffee, please?"

The voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to see Harriet smiling at her from behind her desk.

"What?" Sarah hissed.

"I said please," Harriet repeated, barely hiding her amusement.

"I'd like rice, if you're heading out," another coworker chimed in.

"Ooh, milkshake tea for me!" someone else added cheerfully.

"Black tea for me," another voice echoed from the back.

Without a word, Sarah stormed off, fists clenched, setting out to fulfill their orders, every step burning with fresh humiliation.

After a long day at the office, Daniel was finally home. The whirlwind of back-to-back board meetings and progress reviews on the Sentinel-X project was behind him. Now, in the quiet comfort of his room, he could finally breathe.

"Mr. Lewis," Esther called softly, stepping behind him. "I know you're tall, but could you bend down a bit so I can reach?"

Daniel chuckled, turning halfway as he lowered himself to her level.

"You know, I could just lift you up instead," he teased, slipping an arm around her waist.

"Mr. Lewis…" she said, her tone cautious now, but not entirely resisting.

"What, Mrs. Lewis?" he murmured playfully, pulling her in closer. His breath brushed the side of her neck, his lips grazing the skin as they trailed toward hers.

But just as he tilted his head to capture her lips, she pulled back with a nervous chuckle.

"Umm… I should go get dinner ready," she blurted, already stepping away.

And just like that, she was out the door, leaving Daniel standing there, arms half outstretched, brows slightly furrowed, and confusion flickering in his eyes.