The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back-Chapter 179: I was sent

They moved slowly, pausing to touch the soft, cloud-light fabrics, choosing bottles and rattles, arguing playfully over which stuffed animal was cuter. A fluffy gray elephant or a caramel-colored bunny.

"Elephant," Mara insisted. "Bunny," Vera countered. "Fine, both," they said in unison, dissolving into laughter that made the nannies look over with gentle smiles.

At the checkout counter, Vera grew quiet, watching as Mara paid, her face open, soft in a way it hadn’t been in years.

"You look happy," Vera said finally.

Mara stilled for a second, then gave a small, almost shy smile. "I forgot what it felt like. But today... yeah. I think I am."

Vera reached for her hand, squeezed it tightly.

"You deserve this, Staf. Every second of it. And I’m not going anywhere this time."

They stepped out into the bright afternoon, bags in hand, a sleepy Andrew nestled against Mara’s chest now

For a second, Mara looked up at the sky. The blue stretched endlessly, clean and new, and for the first time in a year, she let herself believe there might be more days like this ahead.

She whispered to the baby against her shoulder, "We’re gonna be okay, little man. I promise."

And for once, she meant it.

The car was packed with pastel bags and tiny bundles of baby clothes, the scent of new fabric clinging to the air. But neither Mara nor Vera was ready to head home just yet. The day was too beautiful, the city too kind for once.

"Let’s stop somewhere," Vera suggested, leaning back against the car seat, sunlight warming her face.

Mara smiled. "I know a place."

A little café on a quiet street, half hidden by ivy and bougainvillea, the kind of spot where time slowed down. They settled at a corner table under a white umbrella, cold lemonades sweating in their hands, the babies asleep in their bassinets beside them.

For a while, they just sat, watching people pass, the breeze stirring loose strands of hair.

Then Vera spoke, her voice soft. "I’m a renowned painter now."

Mara’s head snapped up, a grin tugging at her lips. "Oh really?"

"Yeah," Vera laughed. "I don’t know... I made a few paintings that got great recognition, just small stuff at first. Flowers. Skies. Then it got darker. Faces I didn’t want to remember."

Mara reached across the table, her hand brushing Vera’s. "I always loved your paintings. You see the world in a way no one else does."

Vera shrugged, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "It’s messy. But it’s mine."

They sipped their drinks in companionable quiet for a moment, the weight of old wounds between them. Then, with a crooked smile, Vera added, "And I might be seeing someone."

Mara nearly choked on her lemonade. "What?! Who?!"

Vera laughed, eyes sparkling. "It’s nothing serious yet. A guy from the gallery. Kind, gentle...."

"Well, thank God for that," Mara teased, grinning. "I was starting to think you had stopped believing in love."

Vera rolled her eyes. "Says the one that gave up on love."

They laughed, the sound easy and alive. The kind of laugh that rewrites years of silence.

But then Vera’s gaze turned serious. She traced the rim of her glass with one fingertip, gathering courage.

"Stef..." she began carefully. "Can I ask you something?"

Mara felt her stomach tighten, a prickle at the back of her neck. "Yeah. Of course."

Vera glanced at the sleeping twins, then back at Mara. "Have you really... gotten over him? My uncle. Their father."

The words hung there, sharp as glass, slicing through the soft afternoon light.

Mara’s face stayed calm, but her eyes darkened, the shadows creeping in at the edges.

"I don’t... think you ever really get over people like that," she said quietly. "The ones who shape you, ruin you, leave pieces of themselves buried inside you. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried."

She looked away, watching a leaf drift lazily down onto the sidewalk.

"But when I look at them," she whispered, motioning to the twins, "I see the parts of him that didn’t hurt me. The parts that didn’t lie. And maybe that’s enough. I can live with that but if you are asking if we could ever be a family again, the answer is no."

Vera didn’t push. She just reached for Mara’s hand again, squeezing it tight.

"I’m here," she said softly. "Whatever you need, however long it takes." Mara smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"I know," Mara murmured, her voice barely louder than the hum of the café around them. Her eyes dropped to her hands, fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup like it was some kind of anchor. "Beside... my heart, it’s learning how to beat again. Not for your uncle," she glanced up with the ghost of a smile, "but for someone... incredible."

Vera chuckled, a dry, knowing sound, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, really?" she teased, arching a brow. "Listen — I know my uncle’s a world-class jerk. Top tier. But he’s got the looks, the money... he’s a slow learner, yeah, but still, tell me... who’s better than him?"

Mara’s lips parted, soft and certain. "Rafael."

A beat. The air between them seemed to still, thick with something neither one wanted to name.

"Oh yeah... I knew it," Vera sighed, a mixture of frustration and reluctant warmth curling in her chest. "He’s everything my uncle’s not. And, God, that pisses me off. But... hey, I’m happy for you. Really. Rafael’s a good one."

Just then, Mara’s phone buzzed, screen lighting up with his name. A tiny smile tugged at her mouth, softening all the sharp edges she carried. "Speaking of him..." she whispered, already answering the call.

"Hey," Mara breathed into the phone, a hush of longing in her voice. "I miss you already."

"I miss you more than you can imagine," Rafael’s voice came through, low and warm, like a promise on a cold night. "Just calling to say I landed safe. I love you, Mara. And I... I can’t wait to be home. To be with you."