Chapter 170: Some Things Never Change

Chapter 170: Chapter 170: Some Things Never Change

Zoya’s phone buzzed before her morning coffee even finished brewing.

She picked it up from the kitchen counter.

Jackson: Morning. My mother has already asked me three times when we are setting the wedding date.

Zoya smiled and typed a quick reply.

Zoya: Tell her I am reviewing my calendar. Or tell her to pick a date and I will just show up.

Jackson: Do not tempt her. She will book a cathedral by noon.

Zoya took a sip of her coffee. The familiar banter felt good. Then a new text bubble popped up on the screen.

Jackson: Janice is coming by my office later. She wants to see me.

Zoya paused. She lowered her coffee mug.

She stared at the words. She asked the obvious question.

Zoya: Why?

Jackson: She wants to catch up. She has been away for four years.

Zoya tapped her fingernail against the marble counter. She knew exactly what Janice was doing. She was establishing her presence. She was marking her territory in the middle of his workday.

Zoya: Of course.

She did not tell him what she was actually thinking. She locked her phone and went to get dressed for work.

A few hours later, Janice walked into the reception area of Jackson’s law firm.

She carried a brown paper bag and a tray holding two coffees. Jackson looked up from a stack of contracts as she pushed his office door open. He was genuinely pleased to see her.

"You didn’t have to bring food," Jackson said, clearing a space on his cluttered desk.

"I wanted to," Janice replied. She set the tray down and handed him a cup. "Double shot macchiato. No foam."

Jackson took the cup. "You still remember that?"

Janice offered a soft, lingering smile. "I remember everything about you."

Jackson laughed, taking the comment as simple sisterly affection. He opened the paper bag and found his favorite order from a deli three blocks away. A place he had not visited in over a year.

A junior associate walked past the open office door. The young man stopped, holding a stack of briefs, and looked at Janice.

"Sorry to interrupt," the associate said. He smiled at Jackson. "Is this your fiancée? She is gorgeous."

Jackson shook his head immediately. "She is my sister."

Janice’s smile vanished. It was a fraction of a second. A tiny, micro expression of sheer irritation. Then the pleasant mask slipped right back into place.

"Adopted sister," Janice corrected smoothly.

The associate nodded, apologized for the intrusion, and kept walking.

Jackson took a bite of his sandwich, oblivious to the shift in the room. Janice sat in the chair across from him and started talking about a summer vacation they took when they were teenagers.

Zoya arrived at the firm an hour later.

They had planned a lunch date the day before. Zoya stepped out of the elevator and walked down the main corridor. She passed Janice near the reception desk.

Janice stopped. She looked at Zoya.

She smiled. It was not a warm greeting. It was a victorious, knowing smirk.

Zoya did not break her stride. She offered a polite nod and kept walking straight into Jackson’s office.

She noticed the items on his desk immediately.

The empty coffee cup. The deli wrapper. A small, faded polaroid photograph sitting near his keyboard. And a bright yellow sticky note resting right next to his phone.

Nothing inappropriate. Nothing Zoya could reasonably object to.

But together, they built a very deliberate message.

I was here first.

Jackson looked up and his face lit up. He stood from his chair and pulled Zoya into a quick hug.

"You came," Jackson said.

"We had lunch planned," Zoya reminded him.

He kissed her cheek. "I know. Janice just stopped by and brought some food earlier."

Zoya smiled. "She seems very thoughtful."

Jackson missed the sharp edge of sarcasm in her voice. He gestured toward the polaroid on his desk.

"She found that in an old box at my parents’ house," Jackson explained. "It is from the summer we tried to build a treehouse and I broke my arm. She reminded me how she had to carry my backpack to school for a month."

Zoya listened. She looked at the photograph.

She understood the strategy perfectly. Janice was not trying to steal Jackson overnight. She was not going to throw herself at him. She was simply reminding him of everything they shared before Zoya existed. Nostalgia was a powerful weapon.

"Does Janice have somewhere else to stay?" Zoya asked casually.

"She is staying with my parents for now," Jackson said. He sat on the edge of his desk. "She might stay longer. She is figuring out what she wants to do next."

Zoya nodded.

That changed the board. Janice was not leaving tomorrow. She was settling in.

Later that afternoon, Jackson’s desk phone rang. He put it on speaker.

"Hello, Mom."

Andrea’s voice filled the office. "Do you have a minute?"

"Always."

Andrea did not waste time with small talk. "How do you feel about Janice being back?"

"I am happy," Jackson said, leaning back in his chair. "I missed her. It is good to have her home."

Andrea did not accuse Janice of anything. She knew better than to put her son on the defensive.

Instead, she asked a very specific question.

"And Zoya?"

"Zoya is great," Jackson said immediately. "We are happy. We are getting married."

Andrea relaxed a fraction on the other end of the line. She let out a quiet breath.

"Just make sure you don’t let old memories make decisions for your future," Andrea warned.

Jackson frowned at his phone. "What does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said. Have a good afternoon, Jackson."

The line clicked dead. Jackson stared at the receiver, confused.

That evening, Jackson was sitting on the sofa in his apartment. His phone buzzed in his hand.

It was a text from Janice.

She sent a digital scan of another old photograph. The two of them as kids, sitting on a porch swing, laughing at the camera.

Janice: Remember this?

Janice: You promised you would never forget me.

Jackson smiled at the screen. He typed a quick response.

Jackson: Of course I remember.

Miles away, Janice stared at his reply. She typed out a long paragraph. She hovered her thumb over the send button. Then she deleted the entire thing.

She typed one word instead.

Janice: Good.

An hour later, Jackson showed the picture to Zoya.

"She has been digging through all the old albums," Jackson laughed. "I think she is feeling homesick."

Zoya looked at the screen. She handed the phone back to him. She did not tell him to stop talking to Janice. She did not throw a jealous fit.

"You should spend time with your family," Zoya said. "She just came back."

Jackson looked surprised. He set the phone down.

"Are you serious?" Jackson asked. "We only just got time to spend some time together. I am not canceling our plans."

Zoya gave him a patient look. "It is fine. You have been away from your family for a while now. Go see them."

Jackson laughed. He reached out and pulled her into his side.

"Do not worry. I will spend my time with you," Jackson promised. "My family will understand."

Zoya smiled.

She hadn’t asked him to choose. She hadn’t needed to.

Jackson had already made his choice.

Jackson kissed her goodnight and went to take a shower.

Zoya sat alone on the sofa. She picked up her own phone and opened Instagram.

Janice’s profile was at the top of her feed.

It was a new post. A photograph from years ago. Janice and Jackson together as teenagers, standing very close, looking at each other instead of the camera.

Zoya read the caption beneath the picture.

Some things never change.

Zoya stared at the glowing screen. She read the words twice.

She did not react publicly. She did not leave a comment. She did not march into the bathroom to demand an explanation from Jackson.

She locked her phone and set it on the coffee table.

"We will see about that," Zoya said to the empty room.