Belle's POV
The front door slammed behind me before I could even ring the bell.
"Belle!" My mother's arms wrapped around me so tight I could barely breathe. "My baby, you're finally home!"
I stood there like a rock, not hugging her back. Four years ago, she'd told me I was dead to her if I left. Now she was acting like I'd just come back from vacation.
"Let me look at you," she said, holding me at arm's length. Her eyes were red and puffy. "You're so thin. And your hair... what happened to your beautiful hair?"
I touched my short, choppy haircut. I'd cut it myself three months ago when I couldn't afford a hairdresser. "It's just hair, Mother."
"Evelyn, let the girl breathe," my father's voice boomed from the doorway. He looked older than I remembered. Gray hair, tired eyes, but still wearing that expensive suit that probably cost more than I'd made in six months.
"Hello, Father."
He walked over and hugged me too, but it felt weird. Like we were strangers pretending to be family.
"Come inside," he said. "We have a lot to talk about."
I followed them into the living room. Everything looked exactly the same. Same fancy furniture, same paintings on the walls, same smell of expensive candles. But I felt like a stranger visiting another planet.
"Sit down, sweetheart," Mother said, patting the seat beside her.
I picked the chair across from them instead. "Let's just get this over with. You said you'd take me back if I agreed to marry Jasper Vale. I'm here. When's the wedding?"
Father's eyebrows shot up. "Belle, we don't have to rush into—"
"Tomorrow," I said strongly. "I want it done tomorrow."
Mother gasped. "Tomorrow? But that's impossible! We need time to plan, to invite people, to—"
"No." I stood up. "No big wedding. No guests. Just us, Jasper, and whoever needs to be there to make it legal. That's my only condition."
Father looked worried. "Belle, why are you in such a hurry? What happened to you out there?"
The question hit me like a punch. What happened to me? I'd been betrayed by the two people I loved most. I'd worked three jobs just to keep food on the table. I'd slept on friends' couches when I couldn't make rent. I'd cried myself to sleep more nights than I could count.
But I wasn't going to tell them that.
"Nothing happened," I lied. "I just want to get married and move on with my life."
Mother reached for my hand, but I pulled away. "Darling, you seem so angry. So... hard."
"I'm not angry. I'm practical." I looked at Father. "Where's Jasper? I want to meet with him tonight."
"He's at his house. He has a kid, you know. A little girl named Millie."
Something twisted in my chest at the mention of a child. "How old?"
"Four. She's a sweet little thing. Lost her mother when she was a baby. " Four years old. The same age my baby would have been if...
I pushed the thought away. I couldn't go down that road again.
"I want to see them both tonight," I said.
Father nodded. "I'll call Jasper. He can come over for dinner."
"No." I stood up again. "I'll go to his house. I want to see how he lives. What kind of man I'm marrying."
"Belle, you grew up with Jasper," Mother said softly. "You know what kind of man he is."
"I knew what kind of boy he was. People change." I certainly had.
An hour later, I was standing on Jasper's front porch. The house was nice but not fancy. A swing set in the garden, toys scattered on the front steps. It looked like a real family lived here.
I rang the doorbell.
Footsteps inside, then the door opened. And there he was.
Jasper Vale. Taller than I remembered. Broader shoulders. His dark hair was a little longer, and he had stubble on his neck. But those green eyes were exactly the same.
For a second, we just stared at each other. Then his face went cold.
"Belle."
"Jasper."
"Your father called. Come in."
I followed him inside. The house was clean but lived-in. Children's books on the coffee table, crayons spread on the kitchen counter, a little pink backpack by the stairs.
"Where's your daughter?" I asked.
"Upstairs getting ready for bed. She's shy around strangers." Strangers. Right. That's what we were now.
"We need to talk," I said.
"I figured." He crossed his arms. "Your father told me you want to get married tomorrow."
"That's right."
"Why the rush?"
I met his eyes. "Because I want to get this over with. We both know this isn't about love. It's about business. So let's treat it like business."
Something flickered in his eyes. Pain, maybe? But it was gone so fast I might have imagined it.
"Fine," he said. "Tomorrow it is."
"Good. Now I want to meet your daughter."
"Why?"
"Because she's going to be my stepdaughter. I should know what I'm getting into."
He paused, then called upstairs. "Millie! Come down here for a minute."
Little footsteps on the stairs, then a small voice. "Coming, Daddy!"
She emerged at the top of the stairs in pink pajamas, clutching a stuffed rabbit. Blonde curls, big blue eyes, gap-toothed smile.
My heart stopped.
She looked exactly like me at that age. Exactly like the baby shots my mother kept in her photo albums.
"Millie, come say hi to Miss Belle," Jasper said gently.
She came down the stairs slowly, suddenly shy. But when she got to the bottom, she looked up at me with those familiar blue eyes.
"Hi," she whispered.
I knelt down to her level, my hands shaking. "Hi, Millie. What a pretty name."
She smiled. "My daddy says I'm named after my mama."
"What was your mama's name?" I managed to ask.
"Amelia," Jasper said quickly. "Her name was Amelia."
But Millie shook her head. "No, Daddy. You told me my mama's name was Belle. Like the pretty lady in the story."
The world turned sideways.
Jasper's face went white. "Millie, I think you're confused—"
"No!" Millie stepped closer to me, reaching out to touch my face. "You're my mama, aren't you? I knew you'd come home."
I couldn't move. Couldn't think. Four years ago, I'd lost a baby. The doctors said it was a loss. But what if...
"Millie, go back upstairs," Jasper said firmly. "Now."
She looked confused and hurt, but she obeyed. We watched her climb the stairs, pulling her stuffed rabbit behind her.
When she was gone, I turned to Jasper. My voice came out as a whisper.
"Is she mine?"