The first thing Bella noticed when she stirred awake was the quiet.
It wasn't the comforting kind of quiet that came from knowing someone was nearby, moving around the kitchen or rustling the newspaper. This was the hollow stillness of an empty space, the echo of absence.
She shifted onto her side, blinking at the pale morning light pooling across the sheets. The other side of the bed was cold. Of course it was. Lucas had left early—before dawn, probably.
Bella swallowed, pressing her hand to the mattress as if she could feel the outline of where he'd slept. Maybe she was being dramatic, but after everything she'd admitted to him last night—that she wanted him here more often, that she needed to feel he was part of this—the emptiness hit her harder than she expected.
She drew in a shaky breath, telling herself it was silly to expect things to change overnight. Lucas had responsibilities. A business. An entire empire to run. He'd never promised he would drop everything just because she'd whispered she wanted more of him.
Still…she thought he might have stayed for breakfast. Or at least woken her up to say goodbye.
Bella pushed back the blankets and set her feet on the floor. The tiles were cool against her soles, grounding her. She padded over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Sleep-tousled hair, a faint crease across her cheek. The kind of softness she rarely let anyone see—except him.
She splashed her face with water, trying to wash away the heaviness clinging to her thoughts.
'Stop it', she scolded herself silently. 'You knew what this was from the beginning. He's not obligated to be here every morning.'
Except now it wasn't just about her. There was a baby on the way. And a little girl in the next room who had already started calling Lucas "Dada" with unguarded affection.
That thought brought a tenderness to her chest that almost made up for the sting of waking up alone.
Almost.
She brushed her teeth and pulled on a soft cotton robe. As she passed the bed, she spotted her phone she left on the nightstand. For a second, she wondered if he'd sent her a message—a note to say he'd slipped out early but he'd be back soon. But the screen was dark.
No message.
She sighed and headed down the hallway. Rachel's door was ajar, and the sight of her daughter curled up under her pink blanket tugged her mouth into a small, reluctant smile.
Some things were constant. Some things were hers, no matter how unpredictable everything else felt.
Bella walked over and gently brushed the hair from Rachel's forehead. The little girl stirred, eyes fluttering open.
"Morning, sweetheart," Bella whispered.
"Morning," Rachel mumbled, voice still heavy with sleep. "Where's Dada?"
"He…he had to leave early," Bella said softly. "But he'll be back later."
Rachel pouted, her eyes glossy with disappointment. "I wanted him to help me with the puzzle."
Bella's heart clenched. She pulled Rachel into her arms, pressing a kiss to her hair.
"I'll help you instead," she murmured. "And maybe we can call him later."
Rachel nodded, though her pout didn't vanish.
Bella carried her into the kitchen, setting her down in her chair. She moved around on autopilot—pouring cereal, heating milk, slicing strawberries. The domestic rhythm was comforting in a way she hadn't expected.
But underneath it, the ache remained—a quiet yearning she didn't quite know how to soothe.
She tried to tell herself it wasn't fair to feel like this. Lucas had never pretended he could be the man who stayed home every morning. He had always been clear about the limits of his life.
And yet…
Last night, when he'd held her, she'd felt something real. A promise that maybe, just maybe, this was becoming more than either of them had planned.
She caught herself pressing a hand to her belly, as if the tiny life growing there could offer some reassurance.
It didn't. Not entirely.
But it was enough to make her whisper into the morning quiet, "I just wish you were here."
****
Bella balanced Rachel's backpack on her hip as they walked up the low steps to the school entrance.
It never failed to amaze her how Rachel's mood shifted the moment she spotted her friends—her earlier pout about Lucas vanishing overnight evaporated, replaced by bright excitement.
"Bye, Mama!" she chirped, leaning in for a quick kiss.
Bella brushed her thumb over her cheek, savoring that small sweetness. "Have a good day, baby."
"I will!" Rachel called over her shoulder before darting inside.
Bella lingered on the steps, watching until the door swung closed. Only then did she let out a long breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
The morning air was cool and gentle against her skin as she walked back to her car. She hesitated before walking her way home, then turned away. She couldn't face going home to the echo of empty rooms. Not yet.
Instead, she walked without thinking too hard about where she was going, letting instinct and the need for quiet guide her.
The park wasn't far. A green pocket of calm in the middle of the city. She parked by the curb, slid her sunglasses onto her nose, and walked along the path lined with oak trees.
It was still early enough that only a few other people were out: a woman jogging with a golden retriever, an elderly man reading a newspaper on a bench. And a young mother pushing a stroller, stopping every few feet to adjust a blanket around her baby.
Bella's chest tightened. She tried not to stare, but her eyes kept drifting back to that little bundle of warmth in the stroller. So small. So unaware of everything.
She wondered if her baby would look like her—dark hair and bright eyes. Or like Lucas.
The thought was both comforting and terrifying.
She sank onto a wooden bench under a broad old tree. A few leaves drifted down around her, slow and graceful. For a moment, she let herself pretend she was someone else—a woman with an uncomplicated life and uncomplicated feelings.
Someone who hadn't spent last night confessing she wanted more, only to wake up alone.