Loved You Once But He's My Forever (Chloe)

A weight settled in my chest, cold and crushing. I could not wait any longer-I had to call Carter.

The phone rang. Then, at last, his voice came through, rough, and weary. "Chloe."

I tried to speak, but the words caught in my throat. "Dad, he ... "

Carter's silence stretched before he forced the words out. "He's gone."

The phone slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

I had known this moment would come. Jeffrey prepared everything, leaving no loose ends. The signs were there. The outcome had always been certain.

But knowing and accepting were two different things.

The finality of it struck like a blade, sharp and merciless.

I dropped to my knees, my hands covering my face. Sobs broke free, and tears spilled between my fingers. My whole body shook.

He had been a good man. A pillar of quiet strength. For 20 years, he had stood in my life like an unwavering presence, and I had come to love him as a grandfather.

If he had stayed-weak, frail, bound to a hospital bed—it wouldn't have mattered.

He still would have been here. There would have been someone to visit, someone to miss.

Now, he was gone, and with him, the last thread holding the Boltons together had begun to fray.

"Jeffrey, why did it have to be this way?"

His health had failed him, but medicine had come so far. The Boltons had wealth,

power, and connections. They could have kept him here a little longer.

But Carter had been right. No one could hold back a man who had already chosen to go.

A year ago, I buried my grandmother. Now, I had to bury Jeffrey, too.

Two people who had loved me, guided me, made me feel like I belonged. Gone. "Jeffrey... Jeffrey...'

The housekeeper knelt beside me, her voice gentle. "Ma'am, the master left strict instructions. You must take care of yourself. Please ... don't let grief wear you down."

Moments ago, laughter had filled the house. Now, silence pressed in from every side. I looked up and saw Everett standing still, his gaze distant, his eyes searching for something unseen. Then, slowly, he turned toward me.

Something shifted in the air. A warmth, light and fleeting, brushed over me, like a hand resting softly atop my head.

I lifted my face, searching for him. Of course, I saw nothing. But I knew. He had come back.noveldrama

He couldn't leave his grandson behind. He couldn't leave me behind. Not yet. Not before he made sure we would be all right.

Somewhere, maybe even now, he was smiling, his voice filled with the same kindness he had always carried. "Chloe, don't cry. I'm only going where she is."

A sob built in my throat, and I whispered through trembling lips, "I'll take care of Everett and Everly. I swear. So please ... rest now."

A draft stirred the air, lifting a few strands of my hair before fading into stillness.

The curtains shifted, then settled. The house remained as it was.

But I knew. He had let go. He had truly left us.

The twins let out sudden, piercing cries, their laughter vanishing as if snatched away by unseen hands.

The nannies sprang into action.

One rushed to prepare formula, and the other checked their diapers.

Yet the infants refused milk and comfort alike. Their wailing only grew.

"What's wrong with them tonight?" one of the nannies murmured. "They're not wet, and they just ate. Could they be sick? Should we call the family doctor?"

I wiped the dampness from my face, pushing myself upright with their help. "No. Give them to me."

They hesitated but obeyed, exchanging uncertain glances.

My voice came weakly. "Tell the butler to make arrangements."

The older nanny frowned. "For what, ma'am?"

My lips parted, but the words stuck. It took effort to force them out. "My father-in- law's funeral."

The two women stiffened, eyes darting between me and the restless children in

my arms. Perhaps, in their minds, grief had cursed this house, following us like a shadow.

I had no patience for questions. I waved them off. "Just do it."

"Yes, ma'am."

Holding the twins close, I rocked them gently. Their tiny faces were blotchy with tears, their cries still hiccupping in their throats. I gave them the softest smile I could muster. "Don't cry. Grandpa's gone to find Grandma."

They were too little to understand. Their exhaustion soon won over, and their breathing evened into sleep.

But sleep did not come for me.

Outside, the storm raged, rain hammering against the windows, wind howling through the trees. It was as if the world itself mourned Jeffrey's passing.

Once, he had been a force of nature-shrewd, unyielding, a man few dared to cross. Now, he was gone.

Yet I had known death before. When my soul had left my body, I had expected to see the afterlife. But I had not.

Jeffrey had returned, just as my grandmother had. Just as Ethan

had. Each of them had come back to

look upon the living one last time

before they vanished. However, my fate had been different.

A thousand years ago, Carter and I had been something more than ordinary. That

was why I had been able to use forbidden magic-to trade my life for his.

And when he lived again, he raised an empire from ruins, he mended what had been broken, and amassed great virtue.

Perhaps it was that virtue that granted me another chance at life.

That was why, even when my soul had been cast from its vessel, I had not passed beyond. I had lingered, waiting, until the moment I was reborn in Zoey's body.

It had all been decided long ago.

The storm did not break until dawn. Outside, the courtyard lay in disarray with flowers stripped of their petals puddles pooling beneath bare branches, and the ground littered with the wreckage of the night.

The servants worked quietly, sweeping away the storm's aftermath, unaware of what had truly come to pass. I stood in the doorway, waiting for Carter.

When he appeared, I searched behind him, my breath held. Jeffrey was not there. My voice cracked. "Where's Jeffrey?"

Carter met my gaze, his expression unreadable. "Before he died, he asked for no funeral. He only wanted his family to send him off."

The words shattered something in me. Tears blurred my vision, spilling down my

face.