Chapter Fifty Six

Kyla.

“I never cheated on you, Jake.”

The words tear out of me before I can stop them. They hang between us trembling, alive, dangerous. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. My heart feels like it’s been ripped out of my chest and handed back to me in pieces.

Jake looks up at me, eyes burning with something I can’t name pain, regret, disbelief, all swirling together. “Kyla, I know that now,” he says, his tone thick with remorse. “God, I know that now. But back then”

“Back then,” I interrupt sharply, “you believed her.” My throat tightens. “You believed Amina. You believed the one person who stood to gain everything from me disappearing.”

He flinches, the guilt on his face raw, open. “I didn’t know what to believe. Everything was chaos. The police said you were gone, Amina was broken, and I was”

“Lonely?” I whisper bitterly. “Devastated enough to take comfort in her lies?”

His jaw clenches, his eyes glassy. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like, Jake?” I shoot back, standing up so fast the chair scrapes against the floor. “What was it like living with my sister while the world thought I was dead? Did it ever once cross your mind that she might’ve had something to do with it?”

He rises too, towering over me, his voice breaking. “Of course it did! But every time I got close to asking questions, she’d fall apart. She would cry, Kyla. She would tell me she blamed herself for your death. She said she couldn’t forgive herself for fighting with you that day. I didn’t have proof she was lying, she made it seem so believable”

“You didn’t need proof!” I snap, tears spilling freely now. “You just needed to remember who I was. The woman who loved you since we were kids. The woman who fought for us through every damn storm. You should have known I would never betray you like that.”

He reaches for me, but I take a step back. The air between us feels charged heavy with everything we lost and everything that still burns beneath it.

“I spent years hating you,” I admit quietly. “Not because you stopped looking for me, but because you believed her story over mine. You believed the version of me she painted selfish, unfaithful, reckless. And you grieved that woman, while the real me was out there fighting to survive.”

Jake runs a hand over his face, his voice trembling. “Tell me, Kyla. Tell me what happened after that night. Where did you go? What did you do?”

I exhale shakily and sink back into the chair. My body feels heavy, my memories even heavier. “When I woke up in that hospital, I had no idea where I was. The nurse or whoever she really was told me to disappear. Said people were watching. That if I went back home, I would be killed. I didn’t know who she meant, but I was terrified. I didn’t even have my phone or my purse. Everything was gone.”

Jake sits across from me again, leaning forward, his hands clenched. “You didn’t trust the police?”

“I couldn’t,” I whisper. “Something about the whole thing felt wrong. The hospital was quiet. Too quiet. There were no records of me being admitted, no ID. The nurse kept saying someone paid for my care in cash. When I asked who, she said she didn’t know that it was better if I didn’t ask.”

Jake frowns deeply. “Jesus”

“I left that night,” I continue softly. “Took a bus out of the city. I didn’t even know where I was going, I just needed to vanish. I ended up three states away, in a small town where no one knew my name. I used a fake one Lena Ward. It felt strange at first, lying about who I was, but I had to. I thought whoever threatened me might still be looking. For years, I looked over my shoulder every time I left the house. Every shadow made me flinch.”

Jake’s eyes glisten. “You were alone all that time?”

I nod. “not necessarily, I was pregnant and my kids kept me going and fighting. "

He leans closer, his voice breaking. “You carried them alone? All those months?”

“Yes.” My hands tremble. “Every kick, every heartbeat it was me and them. I would talk to them at night, tell them stories about you, about the life we were supposed to have. I promised them I would keep them safe, no matter what it took.”

Tears slide down Jake’s face silently, and for the first time, I see the man I used to love the one who laughed in the kitchen while I danced barefoot on the tiles, the one who dreamed of being a father.

He whispers, “I should have been there.”

“You should have,” I say softly. “But you weren’t. And I had to learn how to be strong without you.”

We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the rain hammering against the window. Then he clears his throat, voice low. “So what made you come back, Kyla? After all these years?”

I take a shaky breath. “Because it wasn’t just about me anymore. Someone found out where I was. They followed me, Jake. They broke into my house. I barely got the twins out in time. I realized the past wasn’t done with us. And if I didn’t face it now, it would destroy everything them, you, me.”

He nods slowly, running a hand through his hair, eyes distant. “So you came back to protect them.”

“Yes.” I meet his gaze. “And to finally tell you the truth.”

He looks down, his voice raw. “You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that alone.”

I swallow hard, trying to keep my voice steady. “Do you know when I realized just how deep Amina’s betrayal went?”

He looks up, confusion flickering in his eyes. “When?”

I take a deep breath, my chest tightening with the memory. “The night I went into labor.”

Jake stiffens instantly, his expression unreadable. “What about it?”

“I was terrified,” I whisper. “The contractions started early. I didn’t have anyone there. No family, no friends. Just a phone number I had memorized by heart yours. I don’t even remember dialing, I just remember hearing your ringtone in my head and praying you’d answer.”

My voice cracks. “But when the line clicked, it wasn’t you. It was her. Amina.”

Jake’s face drains of color. “She answered my phone?”

“Yes.” I nod slowly, my eyes blurring. “I told her who it was. I said, ‘Please, tell Jake it’s Kyla. Tell him I’m having his babies. I need him.’ And she laughed. Not loud, not mocking just this quiet, cruel laugh. Then she said, ‘Never call again.’”

Jake’s entire body goes rigid. “She said what?”

“She said, ‘Never call again. Jake’s moved on. You’re dead to him. Stay that way.’ And then she hung up.”

The silence that follows is deafening. I can hear the rain, the faint ticking of the clock, the slow, deliberate sound of Jake’s breathing as the weight of it sinks in.

My tears come harder now. “That’s when I knew,” I whisper. “That’s when I realized Amina wasn’t just involved she was the reason. The reason I was gone, the reason you thought I was dead, the reason our children were born without their father.”

Jake’s hand clenches into a fist, veins bulging. His voice is barely audible when he speaks. “She did this. All of it.”

I nod, my body trembling. “And now she knows I’m back.”

He lifts his head, eyes dark, full of fury and something far more dangerous. “Then she’s going to regret it.”