JUST LIKE many other women in their youthful prime, Doris had believed in fairytale love, in the idea of Prince Charming who would whisk her away from her mundane life. She'd fed herself on a steady diet of romantic comedies and love stories. Though she'd also been warned about the other side of love, the side where people's hearts get broken and lives get shattered, she in her true hopeless romantic fashion had chosen to ignore them all and push for love and romance. She'd fall in and out of love and had her fair share of broken hearts and bruised egos. But yet, she held out hope that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who was meant for her. And, boy, had she been through a lot finding that "someone" meant for her! From the jerk in high school who had left her for the blonde cheerleader only for the reason, she'd been much more curvaceous than she'd been—like, how was it her fault mother nature decided to visit her a little later than others? To the bastard in her f

"LET ME get this straight," Brad said through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his anger in check. "You made me come all the way from LA on short notice to defend your son for sexual harassment?" The last two words escaped his mouth like explosives. Are these people kidding me right now? He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be spending time with his daughter today as he'd promised. His little princess was the only person he lived his life for, ever since his ex-wife walked out from their lives. His ex-wife! The thought of that woman fueled his temper. In his eyes, she had been the perfect woman for him. Clever, stunningly pretty, and, best of all, a total Sci-Fi fanatic like himself. They used to talk for hours about the things they both loved, laughing over tall tales from all of the exotic places that they had visited. They had been inseparable. It was hard for him to believe that their beautiful relationship had ended so badly. . . and

NO WORDS could begin to depict what Doris was feeling at the moment, seated at one of the tables at Le Bistro Chabots, awaiting anxiously for Brad to walk in. Le Bistro Chabot was a sight to behold, with its high ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and plush velvet upholstery. The dark wood floors and paneling gave the restaurant a timeless elegance, while the large windows overlooking the Parisian streets added a touch of modernity. The tables were adorned with crisp white linens and sparkling crystal, and the waiters bustled about in neat uniforms. The atmosphere was one of sophistication and refinement, with the gentle buzz of conversation and the soft clink of silverware on china adding to the ambiance. But the true beauty of Le Bistro Chabot was in the details. The art on the walls was carefully curated, and the flowers on each table were perfectly arranged. The crystal glasses sparkled in the candlelight, and the wine list was filled with the finest vintages. But perhaps the m

SQUEALING, THE little boy climbed onto Doris' lap, giggling mischievously. "Hey, Sweetie!" Doris singsonged, planting a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry, Ma'am. I tried to stop him," Annie apologized ruefully. Then she made a face at the kid. "But he's such a naughty boy." "It's okay, Annie," Doris replied chuckling. With a polite nod and one last funny face directed at the boy who, likewise, gave in return a bit of his own display, the petite brunette was out the door. "Hey, Sweetie, what are you doing here?" Doris asked, stroking the little boy's head who was still giggling on her thighs. "Oh my gosh, Mummy! I was like super duper bored, and I begged Nanny Lucy to take me to the playground. And when we got there, I saw all my friends from school, like Johnny and Sarah and Grace and Jacob! We played tag and hide-and-seek and we even got ice cream after. The ice cream shop had chocolate and vanilla and strawberry and even some fancy flavors I've never heard of

THE DINING room was bathed in early morning light, as the sun shone through the large windows. A soft breeze drifted in, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers. Brad and his daughter, Nora sat at the table, each lost in their own thoughts while Mrs. Hopkins bustled around the kitchen, making sure everyone had what they needed. Brad was so engrossed in reading the morning paper that he barely noticed what was happening around him. As he reached for his coffee to take a sip, his eyes drifted for a second, and caught a glimpse of his daughter with eyes fixed on her breakfast. She absentmindedly poked at her cereal, taking a few half-hearted bites, but leaving most of it untouched. She sat hunched over, her shoulders rounded, a far cry from her usual bubbly self. Something was clearly bothering her, and Brad's parental instincts kicked in. He set his paper down and turned to his daughter, concern etched on his face. "Hey, sweetie," he said, his voice gentle. "Is every