Crippled Luna's Farewell Half A Life Without My Alpha's Deadly Deception novel Chapter 161

For a moment, she hesitated. Then, she answered.

“Sarah.” His voice was as steady as always, deep and composed. “I ordered some fireworks a while ago. Abby mentioned she wanted you to have some.”

Sarah instinctively began to refuse. “That’s not necessary—”

“It was Abby’s request,” Cole interrupted smoothly, leaving no room for argument.

A brief silence stretched between them before Sarah sighed, conceding. “Fine. Where do I pick them up?”

“I had them delivered,” he said simply. “You’ll see when you get there.”

---

Later That Afternoon ;

Just past 2:00 p.m., Sarah pulled into the designated location, expecting to pick up the fireworks Cole had arranged to be sent.

But when she stepped out of the car, she didn’t find a delivery truck or a stack of neatly packed boxes waiting for her.

Instead, she found **Cole himself** standing there.

She stopped in her tracks.

Cole was dressed in a dark, tailored coat, his stance as composed as ever. The winter breeze toyed with the strands of his dark hair, but he remained unmoved, his gaze resting on her the moment she arrived.

Sarah’s brows lifted slightly. “I thought you said they’d be delivered.”

His lips quirked, just slightly. “They were.”

Her eyes narrowed in mild suspicion. “You just happen to be here, then?”

“I was nearby,” he said smoothly, though the ease in his tone didn’t quite hide the deliberation behind his actions.

Sarah exhaled, shifting her weight slightly. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know.”

There was something about the way he said it—so effortlessly, yet firm enough that she knew he wasn’t here on a whim.

A moment of silence stretched between them, thick with things unspoken.

Then, Cole motioned toward the neatly packed boxes nearby. “Want me to help load them into your car?”

Sarah hesitated for a second before nodding. “Sure.”

She had expected to receive a few boxes of fireworks, as Cole had mentioned over the phone, but when she opened the trunk of her car, what she saw caught her off guard.

Nestled among the fireworks were neatly packed New Year’s gifts—wrapped carefully, each package exuding warmth.

There were boxes of traditional sweets, festive decorations, and small handcrafted trinkets meant for children.

There was something about the moment—a quiet exchange in the winter cold, the unspoken understanding between them. He didn’t press her for more words, nor did she expect him to.

“Thank you,” he added after a moment.

Sarah merely nodded, not meeting his gaze.

…

A few days later, at the old estate, the air was heavy with nostalgia.

The elderly grandma of the family, finally recovered from her previous injuries, had been brought back to the ancestral home.

She lay in bed, watching the dim winter light filter through the large windows, but there was no warmth in her heart.

The house felt emptier this year.

“Sarah isn’t here,” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of disappointment. “It doesn’t feel like the holidays.”

Arnold sat by her bedside, silent.

Sensing his reluctance to speak, grandma sighed. “Where is she?”

Arnold didn’t immediately answer. Instead, he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves, as if buying time.

“And Alex?” she continued. “A child should not be away from his mother for too long. No matter what happens between you and Sarah, Alex should be allowed to see her.”