CHAPTER TEN: PANCAKES AND PROMISES
The scent of warm batter filled the small kitchen as Aria poured the final scoop onto the pan. The light hiss of the hot surface did nothing to drown out the sound of her own heartbeat pounding hard against her ribs. Her hands weren't steady—not with Damien sitting at her dining table, watching Eli chatter as if the two had known each other forever.
Her world had shifted.
Tilted.
Cracked open.
And she couldn't pretend otherwise.
From the stove, she could see Damien, elbows on the tiny kitchen table, leaning forward with an expression she'd never seen on him—open, attentive, almost gentle.
Eli was babbling about school, about the new crayons he got, about how he learned to spell "cat" even though he spelled it kat.
Damien listened to every word as though it mattered more than any million-dollar deal he'd ever negotiated.
There was a softness around his eyes that Aria didn't know he possessed—not even when they were together years ago. Something had changed in him. Or perhaps something had awakened.
When the last pancake was ready, Aria took a deep breath and set the plate on the table.
Eli clapped.
"Yay! Mommy's pancakes!"
Damien's eyes flickered to hers, an unspoken gratitude behind them.
Aria sat opposite him and helped Eli cut his food into small squares. But every few seconds, she felt Damien's gaze drift toward her, lingering.
It wasn't lust.
It wasn't anger.
It was something heavier.
Something questioning.
Something full of regret and want and unspoken truth.
When Eli stuffed the first piece into his mouth and nearly toppled sideways with excitement, Damien smiled. A real, unfiltered smile.
"My son likes pancakes," he murmured.
The words made Aria freeze.
My son.
She wasn't ready for how deeply that pierced her.
Damien seemed to catch himself, his eyes flickering to her as if expecting pushback. But she said nothing. The truth hung between them; denying it now made no sense.
Eli chewed happily, unaware of the waves shifting beneath the surface.
"Can you read stories?" Eli suddenly asked Damien.
Damien blinked.
"I… yes. Of course."
"Good!" Eli stuffed another bite in his mouth.
"I like stories. Mommy reads them every night. Sometimes two. But not three because she's always tired."
Aria stiffened.
"Eli—"
Damien's eyes flicked to her, softening again, understanding more than she wanted him to.
"Maybe I could read one," Damien said quietly.
Eli gasped.
"Tonight?!"
Aria's heart dropped.
Damien froze, glancing at her, clearly unsure.
She swallowed.
"We'll see, baby."
"But he's here now!" Eli pouted.
"Can he stay for bedtime?"
Panic rose in Aria's chest.
Too fast.
Too close.
Too soon.
Damien sat back, breath catching subtly, his expression unreadable.
"Eli," Aria said gently, "Daddy has things to do today."
Damien flinched almost imperceptibly at Daddy.
But he nodded.
"I can come back," he said softly.
"If your mother agrees."
Eli looked between them, sensing the tension in a way only children could.
Aria avoided Damien's gaze and stood quickly.
"I'll get juice."
But as she reached for the fridge, Damien spoke quietly behind her.
"Aria," he said, voice low. "We should talk."
She stiffened.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of Eli.
She opened the fridge slowly, buying herself seconds to breathe.
When she turned back, Damien's eyes were on her—steady, calm, but determined.
Eli was busy building a tower of pancakes on his plate.
Aria crossed her arms.
"What is there to talk about?"
Damien leaned back in his chair, running a thumb along the edge of Eli's drawing still beside him.
A long silence stretched.
Then—
"Everything," he said simply.
The word hit harder than she expected.
"We can't do that in front of him," Aria whispered.
"Then after he's asleep," Damien replied.
Aria blinked.
"You're coming back?" she asked.
"I'm not staying away," Damien said softly.
"Not anymore."
Her breath caught.
Eli twirled in his seat, looking between them innocently.
"Are you gonna stay for a long time?"
Damien's face softened.
"Yes," he whispered.
Aria's heart twisted painfully.
"Okay!" Eli said cheerfully, as if that settled everything.
But nothing was settled.
Not even close.
After breakfast, Eli ran to the living room to play with his blocks, leaving Aria and Damien standing alone near the sink.
Damien stepped closer—close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Aria," he murmured, low and steady.
"I know you're scared."
She didn't deny it.
"But I'm not that man from three years ago. And I'm not going to lose him."
His gaze burned into her.
"Or you."
Aria's breath stilled.
Damien's chest rose and fell slowly, controlled, but his eyes betrayed the storm inside him.
"We talk tonight," he said quietly.
"No more running. No more fear. No more secrets."
She swallowed hard.
"And if I walk away?"
His jaw tightened.
"You won't."
"You don't know that."
His voice dropped into something dangerous and vulnerable all at once.
"I know you, Aria. I know the woman you are. I know the mother you are. You won't raise him to believe his father didn't try."
She closed her eyes.
"Tonight," Damien said again, softly but firmly.
"We talk."
And then he did something that shook her:
He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Slow.
Tender.
Familiar.
Her breath hitched.
His fingers brushed her jaw lightly before he pulled away.
And Aria knew—with a sinking, terrifying, undeniable certainty—
Tonight would change everything.