Reborn Heiress Is Remarrying
Chapter 99: Pieces That Needs Fixing

Chapter 99: Pieces That Needs Fixing

Chapter 99: Pieces That Needs Fixing

As the morning light streamed through the curtains, Diane stirred, her body ached from last night’s mess.

For a moment, she forgot where she was, the past twenty-four hours blurred between nightmare and reality.

Then she felt the warmth beside her.

Arthur was next to her.

He was curled against her, his body tucked tightly into her side, his fingers clung to the fabric of her shirt.

Even in sleep, his hold onto her was desperate—like he was afraid she’d disappear.

Diane swallowed the lump in her throat and ran a gentle hand over his back.

He was safe. He was here.

But he wasn’t okay.

She could still hear his sobs from the night before, the way he was shaken.

He hadn’t spoken a word. Not even now.

Her heart clenched painfully.

Arthur had already lost so much.

Carefully, she shifted, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

His breathing was steady, but his brows were furrowed, even in sleep.

She glanced toward the door, expecting to hear Gabriel moving through the house—but the silence told her otherwise.

He was gone.

She sighed, rubbing her temples.

He was probably at the hospital, dealing with whatever damage Adrian’s accusations had done.

She’d deal with that later.

Right now, Arthur needed her.

Gently, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. "Sweetheart," she whispered. "Wake up."

Arthur stirred, his eyelashes fluttered before he slowly opened his eyes.

For a moment, he just stared at her—like he wasn’t sure if she was real.

Then, without a word, he sat up and wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face into her shoulder.

Diane’s breath hitched.

She held him tightly, pressing her cheek against his hair. "I’m here, baby," she whispered, her voice was breaking. "I’ve got you."

Arthur didn’t make a sound.

But his little fingers dug into her back like he was afraid she’d slip away.

He was hurting.

And she didn’t know how to fix it.

Later that morning, Diane was on the couch, running her fingers through Arthur’s hair as he lay curled up beside her.

He still hadn’t spoken.

She wasn’t sure if he couldn’t or if he just wouldn’t.

She tried not to push.

She just stayed close, letting him feel her warmth, letting him know she wasn’t going anywhere.

A knock at the door made her tense.

Arthur flinched slightly, gripping her hand.

"It’s okay," she murmured, rubbing his back. "It’s just Riot."

Arthur didn’t let go, but he didn’t protest either.

Diane kissed the top of his head before carefully getting up, her muscles aching as she walked to the door.

Riot stood on the other side, holding two coffee cups. He took one look at her and sighed. "You look like hell."

Diane let out a tired laugh, stepping aside to let him in. "Thanks. You always know how to make a girl feel good."

Riot handed her a cup as he walked in. "How’s the kid?"

Diane glanced toward Arthur. "Quiet."

Riot’s eyes softened. He walked over to the couch, crouching down to Arthur’s level. "Hey, buddy."

Arthur blinked at him but said nothing.

Riot hesitated, then pulled something out of his pocket—a small, folded-up paper airplane. "I made you something."

Arthur stared at it for a moment before slowly reaching out to take it.

Diane watched as Arthur unfolded the plane, smoothing the creases before folding it back together with careful precision.

Her heart ached.

He wasn’t just playing with it.

He was fixing it.

Just like he always did with everything—his toys, his drawings... himself.

Riot met Diane’s eyes, something flashed through them like a light.

She swallowed hard. "He’s holding everything in."

Riot sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Kid’s been through hell. It’s gonna take time."

Diane nodded, gripping her coffee cup tightly. "I just wish I knew what he was thinking."

Riot glanced at Arthur again. "He’ll tell you when he’s ready."

Diane exhaled, feeling the weight of it all pressing against her chest. "I’m scared, Riot."

Riot didn’t hesitate. "Yeah. Me too."

Diane looked down, her fingers tightening around the cup. "I don’t know how to help him."

Riot leaned back, stretching his arms over the back of the couch. "You’re already helping, Diane."

She let out a hollow laugh. "It doesn’t feel like it."

Riot’s voice softened. "You’re here. You’re holding him. That’s more than enough."

Diane swallowed hard. She wanted to believe that.

But the truth was—she wasn’t sure if anything would ever be enough to fix what had been broken.

Arthur had lost his sense of safety.

And no matter how tightly she held him, she couldn’t just give it back.

As the afternoon stretched on, Arthur stayed glued to her side.

Riot stayed too, between making sarcastic comments and keeping watch out the window like the overprotective guard dog he was.

Diane was grateful for it.

But the absence of Gabriel lingered.

Her phone sat untouched on the coffee table, no messages, no calls.

And for the first time in a long time, she had no idea where he was.

Arthur shifted slightly, his small fingers tugged at the sleeve of her shirt.

Diane looked down, brushing a hand over his hair. "What is it, baby?"

Arthur hesitated.

Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and placed it over his heart.

Diane’s breath caught.

He wasn’t speaking.

But he was telling her everything.

He was hurting.

And he didn’t know how to make it stop.

Tears burned at the edges of Diane’s eyes. She pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I know," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I know, sweetheart."

Arthur closed his eyes, leaning against her, his small body curled into hers.

Diane held him tighter.

She wished she could take his pain away.

But all she could do was hold him through it.

Riot watched them quietly, his usual smirk replaced itself.

He reached for his phone and started typing something.

Diane saw the name flash on the screen.

Gabriel.

She didn’t say anything.

Neither did Riot.

But they both knew—Gabriel needed to come home.