A Second Chance At Forever novel (Eleanor and Bernard) novel Chapter 1527

Eleanor returned home from the office just as the evening sun was casting its warm, golden glow across the backyard. There, standing tall and gripping the handle of a baseball bat, was Bernard, teaching young Damian the art of swinging for the fences.

She had intended to greet them, but not wanting to disrupt the tender moment, Eleanor paused, leaning casually against the doorframe. She watched, silhouetted against the dimming sky, the figures of father and son on the lawn.

Bernard, once a man who'd rather not bother with the fuss of parenting, now devoted his time and energy to nurture Damian's talents. It was this dedication that won the child's admiration and eager following.

Bernard was a good husband and a fine father. With him around, home was a warm and meaningful place. Eleanor hoped that this wonderful man would be by her and Damian's side for life.

Perhaps sensing her gaze, Bernard turned his head, his once sharp eyes now softened with age. Yet his features remained chiseled and unchanged by time, as captivating as when she first laid eyes on him.

Dressed in a crisp black shirt and slacks, cinched with a white belt, Bernard stood bathed in sunlight. His defined fingers were hooked casually in his belt loops.

His dark hair, neatly combed back, swayed to the side as he turned his head, arching a brow and signaling Eleanor to come over.

With a small smile, Eleanor approached, taking a handkerchief from Damian as she passed by and moving to Bernard's side. "Honey, bend down a bit."

Obediently, Bernard leaned forward, and Eleanor, on her tiptoes, patted his forehead dry. "What would you like for dinner?"

He wrapped an arm around her, drawing her close. "Boss, are you planning to cook tonight?"

Despite his teasing, Eleanor looked up at him, her expression brimming with bliss. "Can you please not call me that?"

Over the past five years, Eleanor had established her own architecture firm, taking on projects sparingly—most of her time was devoted to her family. But Bernard always teased her, calling her "boss" so frequently that she became hesitant to take on new work, though she had recently been busier.

With one hand around Eleanor and the other holding the handkerchief, Bernard countered, "You're a renowned designer now, with more clients seeking you out than me. If not 'boss,' then what should I call you?"

Eleanor laughed, looping her arm through his. "Alright, tonight I'll cook your favorite steak and bake some potatoes. Will that satisfy you?"

His gaze drifted down, hinting at other appetites. "You want to satisfy me with only on meal?"

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