Chapter 15 — Something Is Changing
Kade had left.
Not because he wanted to, but because Aria screamed at him until her throat turned dry and her vision blurred with angry tears. She'd slammed the door so hard behind him that the wall shook. Then she slumped to the floor and cried for what felt like hours. Her hormones were everywhere, her emotions a mess, but none of that excused how suffocated she felt with him constantly hovering.
It was past midnight now. The lights were off in her apartment, except for the small lamp near the couch. Aria sat curled up on it, hands on her belly, silent. The baby wasn't showing yet, but she knew it was there. A quiet presence growing inside her. One that shouldn't feel this sacred, considering how it came to be.
And yet…
"I don't want to hate you," she whispered softly, looking down. "You didn't ask for this."
She pressed her palm gently to her abdomen.
This baby was hers, not Kade's. At least, that's what she told herself. She was going to raise it alone, on her own terms, with no interference from the man who once made her feel like a naive little girl.
Kade Val.
Even thinking of his name made her pulse spike.
Everything about him was chaos. The way he had shown up uninvited. The way he now called every day—texted if she didn't pick up. He wasn't threatening or mean. No. He was… calm. Persistent. Frustratingly patient.
He kept saying things like:
"I just want to be there." "You don't have to forgive me, but I'm not letting you do this alone."
And then this morning, when he sent her food because she mentioned she'd been throwing up, she nearly cried.
He was being kind. But Aria didn't want kind.
She wanted distance.
Still, her heart betrayed her sometimes. Like right now, when her phone buzzed on the coffee table, and she didn't even need to look to know it was him.
She picked it up. His name glowed across the screen.
Kade Val.
Aria didn't pick up, but her fingers lingered on the phone for too long.
After a moment, she tapped the voice message he'd left earlier in the evening.
> "I'm sorry about today. I shouldn't have come over unannounced again. I just… I get scared. Scared that one day, you'll leave without a word, and I won't know where to find you. I know I hurt you before. I'm not asking for your forgiveness right away. I just want to be part of this child's life, Aria. That's all. You don't even have to look at me. Just… let me support you. In whatever way you'll allow."
His voice was low. Sincere. Painfully calm.
She didn't reply. Couldn't.
Because a part of her—the part she didn't like admitting existed—knew he wasn't lying. Kade might have broken her before, but now? He seemed… different.
More human.
And that terrified her even more.
The next few days passed quietly.
Kade stopped showing up but sent a weekly grocery delivery. When she texted him "Stop sending me things," his only reply was:
"Tell me what you need, and I'll stop guessing."
She hadn't replied after that.
At her next check-up, the doctor said the baby was healthy. Her iron levels were improving too. Aria smiled politely, took her supplements, and walked home in the drizzle without an umbrella.
It was peaceful.
Lonely, but peaceful.
Until Friday evening.
She opened her front door, and there, sitting on the hallway floor just outside, was a small package.
No name. Just a note taped to the top.
For when the baby arrives. No pressure. Just love.
Inside, neatly wrapped in tissue paper, was a soft handmade baby blanket. Pale yellow. Gender-neutral. Lightweight and warm. Hand-stitched along the edge were the initials A.V. — Aria Val.
Her heart stopped.
Was that how he saw this baby already?
Tears gathered in her eyes before she could stop them. She folded the blanket quickly and stuffed it back in the box.
She didn't throw it out.
That night, as she lay in bed, her hand on her stomach again, the baby kicked for the very first time.
Just a flutter. A soft thump.
Her lips parted in shock, and her eyes widened.
Then it happened again.
A second, unmistakable flutter.
A sob escaped her lips.
Everything changed in that moment. The baby wasn't just a growing thought anymore—it was real. Moving. Alive inside her.
And for the first time, she wished—deeply wished—that she had someone by her side when it happened.
She didn't call Kade. She couldn't.
But she found herself whispering into the night:
"I felt you… little one."
She wiped her tears and turned toward the wall, clutching the blanket to her chest.
And somewhere across the city, Kade stared at his phone, wondering if tonight would finally be the night she called back.
But just as Aria closed her eyes to sleep, her phone buzzed again—and this time, it wasn't Kade calling.