Chapter 113

Lila’s POV

Daniel was still waiting.

His gaze was steady and unwavering, as though he had asked his question and now had all the patience in the world to let me answer. His words still hovered between us like smoke; I just think maybe you need a friend. And even though we were not that close as kids, I do not mind being that for you now. If you will let me.

I sat there, frozen, my lips parting but no sound coming out. My chest rose and fell too quickly, my heartbeat drumming in my ears.

The silence stretched, lengthening until it began to feel unbearable. I could almost hear the tick of the clock in the other room, each second louder than the last. My fingers twisted the napkin in my lap, the edges fraying under my restless touch.

And then, suddenly Ethan’s small elbow nudged his glass.

The glass tipped and the milk spilled, toppling over in slow motion, the white liquid spilling fast across the table, dripping down the sides, splattering onto the rug beneath.

Ethan gasped, his hands flying to his mouth. “Oh no! I am sorry aunty Lila, I did not mean to create a mess.”

Before he could even finish, I was on my feet. “It is okay, Ethan. Don’t worry,” I said quickly, my voice higher than usual, too rushed, as though the mess was a welcome distraction from the mess inside my head.

Daniel moved too, half rising from his chair and he picked Ethan up and moved him away from the mess and started looking around to look for napkins. But I was already grabbing the napkins from the counter. I pressed them against the table, blotting up the milk, my movements sharper than necessary.

Inside, my mind was louder than the spill.

Could I trust Daniel?

He was kind, steady and grounded. He was not someone trying to impress me or someone waiting to betray me. He was a man who had known pain, who had carried loss. A man whose scars were stitched with quiet resilience.

Maybe letting him in would not be the worst thing.

Maybe letting him be a friend, even just a friend, could ease the ache that had been sitting in my chest since the moment my world shattered.

But then the fear rose again. If I told him the truth, if I peeled back the layers and revealed what I had been hiding under oversized cardigans and silence, then he would know. He would know I was pregnant. He would know that I had left the city not just because I was tired, but because my life had unraveled in ways I still could not fully explain.

What if knowing that made him look at me differently? What if he judged me? What if he thought I was reckless, or careless, or worse loose for getting pregnant out of wedlock? Lila the shy, calm girl had gone to the city and returned pregnant.

The word stung in my mind, harsh and unforgiving.

I pressed the towel harder into the rug where the milk had dripped, my breaths shallow. Then, like a counterweight to my fear, another thought pushed through; Why does it matter he did?

Well, if he judged me, if he turned away, if his kindness vanished the second he knew my truth, then maybe that would tell me who he really was and save me from finding out in the future.

And maybe that was better than pretending.

Because soon enough, everyone would know. The bump was already growing and very undeniable. I could hide it under layers for a little while longer, but not forever. Small towns noticed things. Whispers spread fast, and secrets had a way of slipping through cracks.

I had not even thought about what story to tell the townspeople once they found out about the pregnancy. My parents have maintained a good reputation amongst them and now I am going to ruin that.

My thoughts then circled back to Daniel. If his opinion shifted, if his offer of friendship disappeared once he knew, then maybe I was better off knowing now.

I sat back on my heels, clutching the towel, my chest tight. My palm brushed across my stomach almost unconsciously, pressing against the faint swell that marked the life inside me.

It was not just my secret anymore.

When I returned to the table, Ethan was watching me with wide eyes, his little lips trembling as though he were about to cry.

“Hey,” I said softly, crouching down so we were face to face. “It’s nothing, sweetheart. Really, it's just a little mess and it's not something that can not be cleaned up.”

His shoulders relaxed at my words. He sniffled once, then apologized once again and gave me a shy nod. Moments later, he was back to pushing his toy car across the edge of the table, his laughter bubbling up like nothing had happened at all.

I smiled faintly, brushing the damp towel across the last of the spill. Children had a way of moving past things so quickly and so easily. I envied that simplicity, that freedom to let go.

Daniel had not moved much. He sat still, his eyes following me with quiet intensity, as though he had seen the storm inside me during those few minutes. His expression was calm and patient, but I felt the weight of his curiosity pressing against my skin.

When I finally sat down again, smoothing my cardigan across my lap, he cleared his throat gently.

“It seems,” he began carefully, “like you are not comfortable sharing your story yet.” His voice was soft, not accusing. “And that is okay. I did not mean to push. I just… sometimes forget that not everyone wants to talk about the things weighing on them. So if I came across as prying, I apologize.”

His words were simple, but they struck something inside me. He was not pressing. He was not demanding answers. He was giving me space, offering me the choice to step in or step back. That alone made my throat tighten.

He leaned down then, gathering Ethan’s little jacket and folding it across his arm. “We should probably get going. I did not mean to take up so much of your afternoon.”

He started to rise, slow and unhurried, as though deliberately giving me the chance to stop him.

And before I had even fully thought it through, the words burst out of me.

“Daniel.”

He paused, looking back at me. His expression was calm, curious, but his eyes were steady and waiting.

My heart hammered painfully, each beat louder than the last. My palms pressed into my knees, grounding me, but the words still burned on my tongue.

I drew in a shaky breath, my chest tightening as I forced the truth out.

“You want to hear my story right. Well for starters, I am pregnant.”

The confession dropped into the room like a stone into still water, sending invisible ripples out into the silence.

For a moment, all I could hear was the sound of Ethan’s toy car rolling across the couch, oblivious to the storm that had just broken open in me.

Daniel’s eyes held mine, steady and unreadable.

And I waited, heart pounding for whatever came next.