Chapter 104

Lila’s POV

The shop door closed behind us with a soft clink, the sound of the lock sliding into place echoing in the evening air. My mom slipped the key into her bag, her shoulders dipping as though the weight of the day had finally settled on them. I pulled my cardigan tighter around me, feeling the coolness of dusk settle against my skin.

The streets were quieter now, painted in soft shades of orange and purple, the town slowing into its evening rhythm. Somewhere down the road, a dog barked lazily. A group of children darted past us, still bubbling with energy, their laughter fading as they turned a corner.

I fell into step beside Mom, my feet crunching against the gravel. She carried the day’s earnings tucked neatly into her bag, while I balanced a smaller sack of groceries against my hip. The silence between us was easy, the kind of quiet that didn’t demand to be filled.

After a while, her voice broke through, gentle but curious as we drove to the house. “So… how did it feel? Being back at the shop and seeing everyone again?”

I kept my eyes on the road ahead, watching the shadows of trees stretch longer across the ground. “Overwhelming,” I admitted. “Everyone was so surprised to see me. It was like stepping back into another life, one I thought I had outgrown. But at the same time it was comforting too. Like I still had a place here.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual. “Comforting is good.”

I nodded, but my chest tightened. Comforting, yes. But also confusing.

She didn’t press further until we reached the house. The porch light flicked on automatically, casting a warm glow against the peeling paint. My dad didn't come back with us, he mentioned he was going to see an old friend in town.

Inside the house we carried the groceries to the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. I busied myself with rearranging a few items, but before I could retreat into the safety of movement, Mom’s hand closed gently around mine.

“Come,” she said softly, her fingers warm and steady. “Sit with me for a bit.”

I hesitated, but her eyes were calm, insistent in that way only a mother’s eyes could be. So I followed her to the living room.

The couch sagged a little as I sank into it, the fabric familiar, carrying faint traces of old perfumes and countless evenings spent exactly here. Mom sat beside me, close enough that her shoulder brushed mine. The lamp on the side table cast a golden glow across her face, softening the silver strands in her hair.

Her hand found mine again, her thumb brushing over my knuckles. “What’s bothering you, baby?”

My throat tightened. I shook my head too quickly. “Nothing, Mom. I’m fine.”

She gave me the look. The one that always cut through the defenses I tried to build. Patient, steady, but unyielding. I had grown up with that look, when I lied about finishing my homework, when I tried to hide a scraped knee or when I said “I’m fine” but wasn’t.

“Lila,” she murmured, her voice like water over steel, “I know when something is on your mind. Talk to me.”

The words lodged in my chest. I wanted to brush it off again, to say I was just tired. But her hand was warm, grounding me, and suddenly the silence around us felt too heavy.

I exhaled shakily. “Daniel asked me something today when he came into the shop.”

Her eyebrows lifted slightly, but she didn’t speak, letting me find my way to the words.

“He asked if I was staying here… or if I was going back,” I whispered. “And I realized I hadn’t even thought about it. I just left everything behind and ran without looking back.”

My voice cracked on the last word.

Mom’s expression softened, but her eyes stayed steady on mine. “What do you want, Lila?”

The question hit harder than Daniel’s. It was one thing for an old neighbor to ask. But hearing it from my mom, the one person who had seen me through every stage of my life, made it impossible to hide.

I dropped my gaze to my lap, my fingers twisting together. “I don’t know,” I admitted, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “I had a business. A brand I built from scratch, I poured myself into it and then I just left it all behind. Like a coward. I don’t even know if walking away was the right decision.”

Her thumb brushed over my hand again, calm and patient.

“And the thing is,” I continued, my chest tightening, “aside from everything that happened with Drew and Max, the city wasn’t all bad. I loved my work. I loved waking up with a plan, building something that was mine. Part of me wants to go back, to pick it up again. But…”

My voice faltered. I pressed a trembling hand against my stomach. The swell was small but undeniable, a silent reminder of everything that had changed. “But then there’s Max. He’s still out there, Mom. He already tried to take so much from me. I don’t know what else he is capable of. I can deal with Drew’s coldness, I’ve dealt with worse but Max? He almost hurt me, and what if he tries to hurt this baby too? What if he tries to use my child as some kind of revenge?”

The words came out in a rush, jagged and broken. By the time I finished, tears were already streaking down my cheeks.

Mom reached for me instantly, cupping my face in her hands. Her voice was steady, but I heard the tremor beneath it. “Lila, listen to me. You don’t have to figure all of this out right now. Not tonight, not tomorrow. The world has already asked too much of you, and I won’t let it take more.”

I tried to look away, but her hands held me still, anchoring me.

She leaned closer, her forehead nearly touching mine. “For now, focus on healing. On your body, your heart, and this little one growing inside you. That’s your only job, baby. Everything else, the business, the city, Drew, even Max can wait. You will face those decisions later, when you’re stronger and after the baby comes.”

Her thumbs brushed away my tears as she spoke. “Whatever you choose then, your father and I will be right here. Supporting you and standing beside you. You will never face it alone.”

The words unraveled me. A sob escaped before I could stop it, and I leaned into her hands, my tears soaking her skin. “Thank you, Mom,” I whispered, my voice raw. “Thank you for not making me feel like I ruined everything.”

Her own tears glimmered in her eyes, but she smiled through them, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You didn’t ruin anything, Lila. You survived and it's not weakness, you showed great strength. Don’t ever forget that.”

I collapsed into her arms, clutching her like I had when I was a child afraid of thunderstorms. She stroked my hair, murmuring soft reassurances, her presence steady and unshakable.

The weight in my chest loosened, just a little.

When I finally pulled back, my cheeks were damp, my body exhausted, but something inside me felt steadier.

I sank deeper into the couch, my hand drifting again to my stomach. For the first time, I didn’t feel guilty for not knowing all the answers. I didn’t feel like a coward for running. I just felt… human. And maybe that was enough for now.

The lamp hummed quietly beside us, the house wrapped in its familiar silence. My dad still wasn’t back, but I didn’t mind. This moment belonged to me and my mom, to the comfort of her presence and the reminder that I wasn’t as lost as I thought.

For now, I didn’t need to plan my whole future. I didn’t need to decide whether I was staying here or going back to the city.

All I needed to do was heal, breathe and protect the small life inside me.