After He Let Me Fall

NYLAThe door slammed behind Evans, and the sound went straight through me. I stood there in the quiet house, staring at nothing, my fingers trembling around the pregnancy test results still tucked inside my palm. My throat tightened until it hurt to breathe. Everything I had been holding back just poured out of me. I dropped to the floor and cried so hard my chest felt like it was cracking open.My phone buzzed beside me. I didn’t even check the screen. I just answered with my voice shaking.“Hello.”“Nyla?” Marisol’s voice rushed through the speaker. “What happened? You sound like you’ve been crying.”I tried to speak but all that came out was a sob.“Hey, hey, breathe. Where are you?”“Home,” I whispered. “I’m home.”“I’m coming. Don’t move.”The call ended before I could say anything else.I wiped my face with the back of my hand, but more tears just kept falling. I curled my knees to my chest because I didn’t know what else to hold onto. The silence in the house felt like it was

NYLA“What are we doing so high up here?” I asked, wrapping my arms around myself as the cold night wind whipped through my hair. The place looked nothing like the cozy downtown spot she promised. It was just a deserted overlook, cracked concrete, and pure darkness. The city lights twinkled far below us. “Marisol, this isn’t a café. This doesn’t even look safe.”She shut the car door behind her and gave me that soft, familiar smile that used to fix everything when we were kids. “It’s okay, Ny. Trust me. The view is beautiful once your eyes adjust. I just needed somewhere quiet where no one could bother us. Come stand by the edge with me.”I hesitated, my stomach already twisting with unease, but her voice was gentle, the same voice that talked me off ledges when we were teenagers. I walked forward slowly, my sneakers crunching on loose gravel. “You said it was warm and quiet downtown.”“I didn’t lie,” she said, stepping closer, the moonlight catching her faint smile. “I just needed y

NYLA I woke up again, my head still having the familiar throbbing pain I experienced earlier. I looked around the room, unable to find the strange man that saved me, the man that named me ‘Bumble’. I laid back, placing my hand on my tummy, trying to remember what it felt like to be pregnant. Tears gathered in my eyes as I felt hopeless, I couldn't even remember my own baby. What kind of mother forgets she was pregnant. The tears didn't stop, it came like a sob and continued with loud wailing. I searched inside my own head, digging through fog, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember anything.The door pushed open. It was Doctor Emerson. He looked at me with pity but hid it perfectly well, his legs moved slowly till it reached my side. He stretched his hands to offer a napkin for my tears.“Will I ever recover?” I sighed as I wiped my face, my throat burned from the wailing.“You have to give yourself a chance to recover, it will take time but you'll get there with time.

NYLA“Who’s that?” I questioned but Kael didn’t answer.That alone unsettled me.Kael was already on his feet, his body was relaxed. He always looked relaxed but at least his composure eased up the tense atmosphere.Kael walked to the door and opened it without hesitation. The person who stepped inside, did so with the confidence of someone who had done this many times before.As she fully entered the room, I stared at how stunning she looked. She was blonde. And beautiful in a sharp, polished way, she looked like a supermodel. The kind of woman who knew exactly how she looked and used it like a weapon. She walked in as if the house belonged to her, heels clicking softly against the floor.Then her eyes landed on me and her steps halted. Something twisted in her face, but I didn't bother to read any meaning to it.“Who is this.... woman?” the woman asked, turning to Kael slowly, disbelief creeping into her voice.Kael’s jaw tightened. “Mia. You need to leave.”Her name rolled off his t

KAELI don’t like being reminded that the world exists outside my walls.Inside these walls, things made sense. When I was barely twelve years old, my parents’ death, assassination rather, taught me one thing. There was no joy in being in the public eye.Letting the public decide everything for me, how I should behave, who I should marry. And so on. I was one of the richest men in my country but no one knew, not even Nyla. She thought I was just a good business man that lives in a mansion. I wondered how she would react if I told her the house we were staying in was one of my good friends' places. I had bought it from him for twice the price because I didn't want to overwhelm Nyla about who I truly was. Nyla’s presence, though unexpected as it was, had begun to fit into a rhythm I could understand. She moved through the house so gently, like someone who didn’t want to disturb anyone, and yet somehow she’d changed it anyway. For me, at least.I was watching her from the kitchen doorw