The Billionaire CEO Betrays his Wife: He wants her back
Chapter 190: Ma-ma

Chapter 190: Ma-ma

Mara arrived home from the office just as the sun was folding itself beneath the horizon, leaving behind streaks of tangerine and violet that bled through the sky like watercolor. The air inside the house smelled faintly of warm bread, a scent the maid had thoughtfully made routine to welcome her back with.

She dropped her handbag and keys on the glass table by the door and, without even glancing toward the living room, headed straight for the sink. The cool water danced over her fingers, washing away the sterile touch of paperwork, handshakes, and the clinging stress of the day. She watched as it slipped down the drain, a silent ritual she’d come to rely on shedding the weight of her other life before stepping fully into this one.

A small chorus of laughter echoed from the sitting room, light and untamed. Her heart gave a tender lurch.

Mara dried her hands on a soft towel and made her way toward the source of the sound, and there they were her babies. Her whole world contained in two tiny, giggling bodies. Audrey sat cross-legged on the rug, her curls a stormy halo around her face as she stacked blocks. Andrew toddled nearby, a stuffed rabbit clutched in one hand, his little cheeks flushed the color of rose petals.

The moment they spotted her, their faces lit up in a way that no salary, no corner office, no well-worded email ever could match. Audrey squealed in delight, running at full toddler speed into Mara’s open arms. Andrew followed a beat later, his gait still wobbly, like a boat learning the rhythm of the tide.

"My babies," Mara whispered, gathering them both against her chest. She buried her face in their hair, breathing them in one smelled like soap and crayons, the other like warm milk and sleep.

"The school delivered this," the maid said gently, stepping forward and placing a small, neatly folded parcel on the coffee table.

Two tiny school uniforms, ironed crisp and perfect. A pair of miniature futures waiting to be worn.

Mara’s breath caught. She reached out with trembling hands, fingertips brushing the fabric as though it might vanish. Navy blue and soft white, with little buttons that would be impossible for small fingers.

Her throat tightened, and the tears came unbidden.

"Look at this," she whispered, holding the uniforms up for the twins to see, her voice thick with emotion. "My little angels... you’re starting school soon. Can you believe it?"

Audrey grinned, clapping her hands together, delighted by the new shiny thing that had her mother’s attention. But it was Andrew, quiet, watchful Andrew, who made the earth tilt on its axis.

"Mama," he murmured, the word breaking free like a soft, uncertain song.

Time stopped.

Mara froze, her eyes snapping to his small face, searching for confirmation in those wide, innocent eyes.

"What... what did you say, baby?" she whispered, her voice cracking like old porcelain.

Andrew blinked up at her, a shy smile curving his lips, and repeated it a little louder this time, with all the sweetness in the world. "Mama."

A sound, something between a laugh and a sob, burst from Mara’s chest. She scooped him up, peppering his face with kisses, tears slipping down her cheeks unchecked.

"Yes, my love, yes, mama’s here," she breathed, holding him so close she could feel the tiny, steady thud of his heart against her own. "Say it again for me, baby. Say it one more time."

"Mama," Andrew said, voice soft but sure, sealing the moment like a sacred vow.

Steve had been standing in the doorway for a while, unnoticed. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed loosely, a small, rare smile playing on his lips as he watched his sister and the twins wrapped in that perfect, fragile moment.

He didn’t want to interrupt, hell, he almost turned away, left them to it. But something in him tugged forward, a need to be part of this small, golden Chapter.

"So," he finally spoke, voice light but fond, "my little niece and nephew are starting school tomorrow, huh? Isn’t that just wonderful?"

Mara looked up, her face still soft with leftover tears and laughter. That easy, sisterly smile spread across her lips. "Can you believe it?"

He stepped fully into the room now, his presence always carrying a kind of weight, a quiet command that was never loud but somehow filled a space.

"I got them something," Steve said, casually dropping a bag onto the couch.

Mara groaned inwardly before even peeking inside. It’s going to be over the top, she thought. Steve never did simple. It just wasn’t his nature.

Sure enough, out came a pair of glittering water bottles custom-made, studded with tiny crystals that sparkled like stardust under the living room lights. Their names were engraved in elegant, looping letters: Audrey and Andrew.

Alongside them, two matching bags glimmered, decked out with charms, glints of silver thread, and the kind of extravagance you’d expect on a celebrity’s child, not two toddlers about to attend kindergarten.

Mara forced a smile, running a thumb over the rhinestones. "They’re... something," she managed. Pressing a kiss to each child’s head, she straightened. "I’m gonna take a shower, then I’ll be down for dinner."

But as she turned to leave, something nagged at her. She paused, glancing back. "You’re home early. I thought you had to go back to the office?" Steve’s fingers stilled on the water bottle he was admiring. For a heartbeat, his smile faltered.

"Yeah. Got it handled." His voice was too light, his eyes avoiding hers. Then, like flipping a switch, he grinned again too quickly, too practiced. And Mara saw it. Something was wrong.

The dining room at the Shepherd house always felt a little like a sanctuary, a place where the day’s burdens were set aside, where laughter and old stories filled the air like music. The long oak table, polished to a warm gleam, bore the marks of years, little scratches from childhood arguments, scorch marks from a birthday cake lit with too many candles, and wine stains from late-night confessions.

Dinner was served as it always was, family style, with dishes passed around and casual bickering over who got the last roasted potato. The twins were upstairs, tucked safely in their beds, the soft hum of the baby monitor their only tether to the chaos below.

Mara sat between Steve and Stefan, her plate half-empty as she let the warmth of home settle into her bones. Across from her, Stanley and Stanford were up to their usual antics, teasing each other with the kind of relentless, good-natured jabs that only brothers could get away with.

"I swear, Stan," Stanford was saying, grinning over his glass of wine, "if you wear that ugly tie to the bank again, I’m disowning you."

"Please," Stanley shot back, smirking. "If anyone’s getting disowned, it’s you for that disaster you call a haircut."

Their banter bounced back and forth, drawing a chorus of chuckles from the table. Mara smiled, grateful for the ease of it, the familiarity.

But even in the warmth, she felt it.

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