My Billionaire Ex Beg For A Second Chance-Chapter 172: The Name That Still Hurts

It was already lunch break.

The digital clock on her desk blinked 12:14, and Katherine sat in front of her untouched bento box, the lid opened but the contents left perfectly intact. The rice was still warm in the center, the side dishes neatly arranged, but she hadn’t so much as picked up her chopsticks. Her appetite was nowhere to be found, buried under the thoughts swirling in her head.

The quietness didn’t help at all.

She stared at her food but saw none of it. Instead, Winston’s voice replayed in her mind, his words threading themselves around her heart.

She hadn’t slept well the night before. Or the night before that. Ever since Leonard had asked her to go to the cemetery with him, her thoughts had spun restlessly, caught in the past, pulled forward into the future. She hadn’t said yes yet. Hadn’t said no either.

Her eyelids, heavy with exhaustion, drifted shut.

But she didn’t sleep.

Her body sat still in the quiet, but her mind flickered to life, flickered through old memories, half-lit and frayed around the edges. The stillness of the floor, the muted hum of the lights above, only made the recollections louder in her head.

She remembered afternoons spent sitting in Winston’s garden, before the divorce. A place of serenity tucked behind the mansion, where the wind rustled through tall hedges and the old man sat with a blanket over his knees and a mug of herbal tea in hand. He’d ask her about her day. He’d offer advice gently, never intrusively. He never treated her like someone who had married into the family, just someone who belonged.

Her heart ached as the next memory surfaced, one far less gentle.

It was a news broadcast.

She had been home that morning, feeding the twins when the headline scrolled across the screen: "Winston Ford, business titan and philanthropist, passes away at 75."

The words had hit her like a punch to the chest. She remembered the way the spoon trembled in her hand. The silence that followed. Even the children, still too young to understand, had gone quiet at the sudden stillness in her.

She had cried, quietly, with her back turned to the TV. She hadn’t told anyone.

And she hadn’t been there.

Because Leonard hadn’t let her.

Because she had felt like an outsider by then.

Because she had been grieving alone, quietly, aching in places she didn’t know could hurt.

"Katherine."

Her eyes flew open.

Felix stood beside her desk, frowning gently. "Sorry. You were asleep. Looked like a heavy one."

She blinked rapidly and straightened up, disoriented. Her mouth felt dry. She looked at the time. Her lunch break had nearly ended.

"Oh," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "God. I didn’t mean to..."

"It’s okay." Felix pointed to her sandwich. "You didn’t eat anything."

"I wasn’t really hungry." She rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the heavy weight in her chest. The dream... no, the memory, still clung to her like fog.

Felix said nothing for a moment, then quietly added, "Was it about him?"

Katherine looked at him, startled.

"Leonard," he clarified.

She nodded slowly, unsure how to begin. "He asked me to come with him. To the cemetery. For his father."

Felix’s expression didn’t change. But something in his eyes flickered. "Are you going?"

Katherine shrugged. "I want to. I think I need to. But I have to ask the twins first."

The sun was already dipping low by the time she unlocked the front door to their apartment. The twins were in the living room, sprawled on the rug, surrounded by crayons and picture books. The TV played some cartoon quietly in the background.

"Mommy!" Maya jumped up and ran to hug her waist, while Nathan trailed behind with a crayon still clutched in his hand.

"Hey, my loves," Katherine greeted, pressing a kiss to both their heads. She set her bag down, her heart pounding a little faster now.

After Jazz packed up her things and said her goodbyes, Katherine walked her to the door with a soft smile and a whispered "thank you."

Once the door clicked shut, she turned back toward the living room where the twins were already back to their coloring chaos.

"Hey, sweethearts. Can you pause the cartoons for a minute? Mommy wants to talk about something." She sat on the couch and patted the space beside her. "Come sit with me. I want to talk to you about something."

They plopped down immediately, one on each side.

"This Saturday," she began, keeping her voice calm and warm, "Mommy is going somewhere special. And I’d really like it if you two came along. With me. And Uncle Leonard."

"Where are we going?" Nathan asked first, his tone calm but curious, tilting his head.

Maya piped up before Katherine could answer. "Is it Julio’s birthday party again?"

Katherine smiled softly. "No, sweetheart. Not this time." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "We’re going to a cemetery."

Both children blinked up at her with identical confusion.

"What’s that?" Nathan asked.

"It’s where people go to remember someone they love who has passed away," Katherine explained gently. It’s where people go when... when they’ve gone to heaven."

"Oh." Nathan’s voice dropped slightly, like the idea settled somewhere deep in his small chest. "So we’re going to see someone who’s in heaven now?"

"Yes, it’s Uncle Leonard’s father. His daddy is there. And he was someone very kind to me. He would have liked you both very much."

"Is he like a grandpa?" Maya asked.

Katherine hesitated, her throat tightening. "Yes. He was your grandfather, too."

Their eyes widened.

"Really?"

"Really." Katherine smiled faintly. "His name was Winston Ford. You probably don’t remember him, but he was very, very special to Mommy.

Maya looked serious. "Will he know we came?"

"I think he will," Katherine said softly. "In a way. When we visit, we show him we haven’t forgotten."

The twins glanced at each other, exchanging a wordless look. Then Nathan turned back.

"Can we bring flowers?"

Katherine felt tears sting her eyes. She nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I want to draw him a picture," Maya said proudly.

"That would make him very happy."

She pulled them both into a hug, wrapping her arms around their small bodies. Their warmth and innocence, filled the void inside her that had been aching since the dream.

"Thank you," she whispered.

They didn’t know what she meant.

But they held her tightly anyway.