Chapter 1160:

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The late afternoon sun painted the water’s surface in liquid gold. A rowing team glided across the river, their oars cutting a long, clean wake through the current that smoothed out almost instantly behind them. June and Easton walked hand in hand along the riverside path, their fingers laced tightly together. He pushed a small pet stroller with his free hand, Snowball curled up inside the mesh enclosure in a tiny knit sweater, her round body plump and well-tended, her nose twitching at every scent drifting by on the breeze.

“We should get a dog,” June said, her voice carried off on the wind, her gaze drifting to a golden retriever bounding through the grass further down the path, its owner laughing as it chased a falling leaf. “Snowball needs a friend to keep her company.”

“Snowball is a rabbit,” Easton said, his tone perfectly even, his eyes flicking down to the stroller where Snowball had shifted to gnaw on the edge of her woven blanket. “She needs fresh timothy hay and a slightly less entitled attitude. Not a dog.”

June laughed — bright and light, the sound mixing with the rustle of maple leaves beneath their feet. She squeezed his hand, her fingers brushing the back of his knuckles. “You’re the one who bought her the three-story luxury hutch. And the imported blueberry treats from the specialty pet shop in Beacon Hill.”

𝖳𝗿𝗲𝗇𝖽𝗶𝘯g 𝗇𝗈𝘃𝘦𝘭𝘀 oո 𝗀𝘢𝗹𝗻𝗈v𝗲𝗅s.со𝗺

“I make no comment on the record,” Easton said, the corner of his mouth pulling upward into a faint, warm smile that never failed to make her chest feel light. He lifted their joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, his mouth brushing the skin just below her wedding band.

They walked on in comfortable silence, surrounded only by the lap of water against the riverbank, the distant calls of students crossing the Harvard Bridge, and the soft crunch of fallen leaves beneath their shoes. The maple trees lining the path blazed with red and orange, their leaves swirling to the ground in slow, lazy spirals when the wind picked up.

“Do you ever wonder how things would have gone,” June said after a while, her gaze following the rowing team as they vanished around a bend in the river, “if Alexander never handed over those files? If Brogan never pulled his bid?”

Easton slowed his steps and turned to face her, his hand still wrapped around hers. His thumb moved in slow, steady circles across the back of her hand. “I think about it sometimes. I don’t dwell on it. Every step we took, every choice we made, led us here. The same goes for them.”

June nodded, her gaze drifting to the water for a moment before returning to his face. “How are they all doing these days? The last update you got.”

Easton’s thumb stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming its slow motion. “Alexander is still in Boston. He took over what remains of the family’s charitable trust. He hasn’t stepped back into politics or the research oversight space, hasn’t reached out, hasn’t made any attempt to contact you directly. My team confirms he’s still in the city, still has eyes on the foundation and your public appearances. No moves beyond that.”

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