Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Only a mother knows this kind of regret.

Max wrapped his arms around her, gently patting her back. "It's not your fault."

If you had to trace it back, he'd shoulder a big part of the blame. Back then, under the crushing pressure from the Dorsey family, he lost a part of himself. That's when King emerged, leading to all the tangled mess between King and her.

If King were seen as a separate person, then all three of them were incomplete, each stuck in their own swamp. Only together could they pull each other out.novelbin

King's swamp came from Brielle not loving her. Brielle's swamp was her insecurities. And Max? His swamp had always been King.

It was a fated cycle, with no one really at fault. If someone on the outside thought anyone owed anyone else, they just didn't get it.

What is love in the eyes of the world, anyway? Max didn't really care. Just like Irene now, some people might point fingers at her, saying she wasn't good enough for Bryan, criticizing her past relationships, calling her promiscuous, saying she should be drowned in spit. But to Bryan, Irene was irreplaceable; he saw what others couldn't.

In essence, it was an equal match, a higher form of love, a more refined pleasure. Of course, there's nothing wrong with indulging in simpler love, but if everyone could tolerate each other's views, society would hear a lot less judgment.

"Brielle, it's okay to be a little selfish," Max said softly. "It's okay, so don't worry about what anyone else thinks."

Brielle stiffened, tears suddenly streaming down her face. Max cradled her face, kissing her twice.

"Just do what you want to do."

"Max," Brielle hugged him tightly, her tears nearly soaking his shirt. In Max's mind, King seemed to finally wake up, frowning deeply.

"What did you do now? Why did you make her cry again, Max? Can't you be more mature, like me? Just hug her, kiss her, and she'll stop crying."

King had indeed been asleep,

slipping into a deep slumber

whenever he was near Brielle. When Brielle called out, it was only Max she summoned; King had been asleep, waking up only to see her crying, which made him anxious.

Max tuned out King's voice, instead patting Brielle's back. "It's getting late, we should go to sleep, or your eyes will swell."

Brielle nodded through her sobs. Lying back down, she felt a surge of courage from his words, wrapping her arms around him. And with that, she drifted into a sweet sleep.

The next morning, Brielle was up at

five, eager to join the chef

downstairs to learn cooking. Although she knew some basics, it was clear that Isaac preferred the culinary skills Dustin had, not something one could master overnight.

To win a child's heart, you must first win over their stomach!

When Isaac woke up and finished his morning routine, he came downstairs. Rubbing his eyes at the kitchen door, he saw Brielle chopping vegetables and couldn't help speaking up. "Brielle."

"What's up?"

"Your wound, don't strain it, let Dad do it."

Her wound couldn't have healed

couldn't

completely could it? She shouldn't

be in the kitchen; that wasn't a

woman's job. Isn't cooking

supposed to be a man's job? Look at Uncle, look at the chefs at home, look at Dad-they're all men.