Chapter Thirty Eight

Kyla. 

For a second, I think I misheard him. My ears ring like they did earlier when I woke up, disoriented and drenched in sweat. The words circle in my head, sharp and unrelenting: You are coming with me. To the country house. You and the kids.

The kids.

My throat closes up.

I stare at Jake like he is someone I don’t know, like this man standing in front of me isn’t the same man who once tore my heart in half, isn’t the man who has spent years living in my shadows. He looks so certain, so steady, while everything inside me is shaking apart.

“Jake” My voice comes out thin, raw. “You can’t just”

“Mommy?” Chanel interrupts, her small hand tugging at my hospital gown. She peers up at me with those big, innocent eyes. “Are we going to stay with him now?”

My breath catches.

Jake’s gaze flicks to her, and something flickers across his face. Something he is trying hard to hide.

Before I can answer, Elias pipes up from the foot of the bed. His little voice is serious, like he’s piecing together a puzzle bigger than himself. “Is he, is he gonna be our daddy now?”

The words hit me like a wrecking ball. I freeze, my whole body going cold, my stomach dropping so fast it makes me dizzy.

I glance at Jake, panicked, searching his face for, I don’t even know what. Denial? Anger? Shock? But he doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, eyes locked on Elias, his jaw tight, his fists flexing at his sides.

The silence stretches too long. The kids look back and forth between us, waiting for an answer, and I swear I can feel my soul splitting in two.

“Sweetheart” I force my voice into something calm, something steady, even though inside I’m breaking apart. “Jake is Mommy’s friend.”

The word tastes like ash on my tongue. Friend. It’s a lie and a half-truth all rolled into one, and I hate it. But what else can I say? How do I explain years of secrets, of choices, of pain, in a way two little hearts can understand?

Chanel frowns, unconvinced. “But he takes care of you, why can't he take care of us too and be our daddy?.”

Elias narrows his eyes in that stubborn way that reminds me so much of Jake it hurts to look at him. “He looks like me,” he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else.

I can’t breathe.

I can feel Jake’s eyes burning into me, feel the unspoken questions vibrating in the air between us. My heart pounds so hard I’m sure it’s rattling the bed.

I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to rewind time and make different choices so I don’t have to sit here, trembling, while my children ask questions I’m not ready to answer and Jake stands there looking like the ground just got ripped out from under him.

But I can’t collapse. Not now. Not in front of them.

So I do what I have always done: I swallow the storm.

“Listen,” I say softly, brushing a curl out of Chanel’s face, forcing a smile. “Right now, what matters is that Mommy needs rest. And Jake” my voice catches on his name, “is going to help us for a little while. That’s all.”

The kids exchange a look, clearly not satisfied, but they don’t push further. Chanel crawls back into my side, resting her head against my arm. Elias goes back to fiddling with his blocks, but I can see his mind turning, working overtime.

When I finally dare to look at Jake, his expression guts me. His eyes are locked on Elias, his face pale, strained, like he’s holding himself together by threads. I know what he’s thinking. I don’t have to guess.

He sees it too.

The resemblance. The truth. The ghost of his own childhood staring back at him through my son’s eyes.

My chest tightens, shame washing over me in waves. All the reasons, all the excuses I have told myself over the years none of them feel strong enough now. Not when the evidence is sitting a few feet away, alive and breathing.

I turn my face away, unable to meet his eyes.

If I go with him, everything I have worked so hard to bury will come crashing into the light. He will demand answers. He will put the pieces together. And when he does, what then?

Will he hate me?

Will he take my children away from me?

Will he forgive me for shutting him out, for raising them without him, for denying him the right to know?

My heart is a battlefield, fear on one side, exhaustion on the other. I’m so tired. So, so tired. The concussion, the nightmares, the years of carrying everything alone, I don’t have the strength to fight anymore.

And maybe, a quiet part of me whispers, maybe it’s time. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding, to let him shoulder some of the weight.

I stroke Chanel’s hair, holding her closer, blinking back tears.

“All right,” I whisper finally, the words trembling out of me before I can take them back. “We will go.”

Chanel’s face lights up with a smile. “Yay! Can we take my dolls with us?”

Elias looks up, solemn but curious. “We are really staying with him?”

I nod, though my throat feels like it’s closing. “Yes,but Just for a little while.”

Jake exhales sharply, like he has been holding his breath this whole time. He doesn’t say anything, but the way he looks at me God, it’s too much. Relief, anger, confusion, something deeper flickering just beneath.

I drop my gaze, pretending to be fascinated by the blanket on my lap. Anything to avoid drowning in his eyes.

Because the truth is, I don’t know what waits for me at that country house. Safety or disaster. Healing or heartbreak.

But I do know one thing.

For the first time in years, I won’t be facing it alone.

And that thought terrifies me more than anything.