As soon as the words left Marilyn's lips, Lance's face darkened. When spoken by someone else, the words might not have much impact, but coming from his own mother, they were like a lethal blow. Marilyn was his mother, and Lance held family bonds and respect for elders above all else. The thought of arguing with her was unthinkable. Lance's sharp mind quickly caught the subtle slip of Marilyn's tongue when she said "my Addison". He couldn't help but feel confused. He was her son, so why did she refer to Addison as my Addison? Was Addison her daughter? His fist tightened. Noticing the shift in her son's mood, Marilyn quickly chuckled awkwardly, realizing her mistake in her moment of excitement. She reached for Lance's hand and said, "Don't take it to heart, pumpkin. It was just a slip of the tongue." "You're amazing too," she added, trying to smooth things over. "You're tall, handsome, and so capable. You manage the company so well, it runs like clockwork. "Don't be upset with your mother." Her tone softened further. Despite any lingering frustration Lance might have felt, it was hard for him to burst out. He furrowed his brow but kept his composure. "I'm not upset. "I'll help you to your seat." "Alright, I'll sit down." Marilyn smiled as Lance gently assisted her back to her spot. Once she was seated, Lance silently returned to his place, standing quietly, not uttering a word. Marilyn's gaze followed Addison, busy with her tasks, almost as if she were watching her own child. Sometimes, Marilyn couldn't help but think, If only Harvey wasstillaround. Harvey had always been gentle and warm, his heart soft and kind. He had an incredible mind, gifted in every way. Anything Lance struggled to learn, Harvey could pick up effortlessly. What took Lance weeks to master, Harvey could grasp in just days. What Lance spent days trying to understand, Harvey would immediately understand. If Harvey were here, he'd surely love someone like Addison. Addison and Harvey seemed like a good match. But sadly, fate had a way to play with people. Marilyn sighed, a touch of sadness clouding her eyes. Old memories resurfaced, and she lowered her gaze, focusing on the brooch tucked in her sleeve. Her son and husband were gone—how could she not feel the weight of that loss? Yet, for years she had kept a calm exterior, forcing herself to numb the pain. Her fingers gently traced the delicate brooch on her sleeve, as if imagining Harvey still before her, smiling gently as she reached to touch his head. The brooch Addison had given her was too precious to carry around for fear of damaging it or losing it. After all, it was the only keepsake Harvey had left behind. So, she kept it safely in a box at home, afraid the slightest misfortune might befall it. The brooch hidden in her sleeve, however, was a replica Marilyn had commissioned, a perfect copy crafted at great expense. There was no other choice—she missed Harvey so terribly that she wanted to wear it constantly, as though he were still with her. So, she had to settle for this small deception. Even with the replica, she kept it hidden in her sleeve, never broochning it to her chest. The reason was simple—she didn't want Lance to notice this.