Chapter 115

Lila’s POV

The days after my conversation with Daniel unfolded in a way I had not expected.

For so long, my life had been painted in shades of grey; quiet mornings, restless nights, thoughts looping endlessly like a record I could not turn off. But slowly, almost carefully, bits of color began to bleed back in and Dniel and Ethan were the first brushstrokes of colour.

At first, their visits were brief. A quick hello, a plate of cookies or fresh bread Daniel had baked and they always tasted so good that you would not believe it came from Daniel's kitchen.

Ethan’s eager voice was always announcing something he wanted to show me and at first I assumed it was just politeness, a neighborly habit. But then the visits grew longer, warmer and consistent. Ethan would spill his toys across the living room floor and chatter endlessly, while Daniel lingered with a cup of tea, his presence steady but unintrusive.

It became a routine. One I was now growing accustomed to and I realized I was not dreading the days anymore. I was waiting for them.

One afternoon, Ethan came into the living room with a crumpled drawing in his hand and Daniel trailed behind him.

“Aunty Lila, look!” Ethan’s grin stretched wide as he shoved the paper toward me.

I unfolded it gently, smoothing the wrinkles. Stick figures filled the page; one tall, one shorter, and a tiny one in between holding both their hands. Above their heads, a crooked sun beamed down.

“That’s me,” Ethan declared proudly, pointing at the small figure. “That is daddy and that is you.”

Something lodged in my throat. I blinked hard, willing the tears not to fall.

Daniel, standing nearby, gave a small, sheepish smile. “He insisted on including you. Said you are now a part of his life now and nothing I said could dissuade him.”

I swallowed, touched more than I could say. “This is beautiful, Ethan. Thank you.”

He beamed, already pulling another toy from his pocket. As he busied himself on the floor, I glanced up at Daniel. His eyes were soft, his smile quiet, and for the briefest second, I felt a tug in my chest.

But it was not just Ethan that was tugging at my heart.

Daniel, in his quiet way, had started carving out space in my days too. Sometimes he would tell me about a wiring project he was working on, his words simple but his eyes lighting up as he spoke. Other times, he would ask about event planning, genuinely curious, never making me feel like I had to prove anything.

It was… easy. Easier than I thought friendship could feel after everything I had been through.

And if course, my parents noticed.

One evening after dinner, when Daniel and Ethan had just left, Mom sat beside me in the living room. Her expression was thoughtful, her gaze too knowing.

“You have been smiling more lately,” she said gently.

I shifted, trying to hide the warmth in my cheeks. “Have I?”

“Yes.” Her smile deepened. “And I think I know why.”

I rolled my eyes playfully, but it did not hide my nervousness. “Let me guess, Daniel.”

She laughed softly. “I did not say anything, you did. But yes. I have seen the way you are around him. And I have seen the way you have started to breathe again.”

I sighed. “It is not like that, Mom. We are just friends.”

“And that is wonderful,” she said quickly. “That is what you need. A friend. Someone to remind you you are not carrying everything alone.” She reached over, squeezing my hand. “I told you before that you needed to let people in. I am glad you finally did.”

Her words lingered with me long after she left the room.

The friendship grew in small, ordinary ways.

Daniel would call in the mornings sometimes, asking if I wanted to join them for a walk or stop by the market. Ethan would chatter about school, proudly showing off a new word he learned or a toy car he could not leave behind. He was so obsessed with toy cars.

I started looking forward to their knock on the door. To the way Ethan’s laughter filled the spaces that had felt too quiet. To Daniel’s steady presence, the way he never pressed too hard but never let the silences grow heavy.

It was not complicated. It was not dramatic. It was just… human. And I had not realized how much I needed that.

The first time he suggested we go out somewhere, I hesitated. “You mean… outside the house?” I asked, half joking, half nervous.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “Outside. The town has not changed so much that you will get lost. Just a small walk, maybe grab coffee. Nothing dramatic.”

I almost said no. But then Ethan piped up, clapping his hands. “Please, Aunty Lila! Please come! I will show you my favorite tree!”

I couldn’t resist his wide grin, so I agreed. And that simple outing turned into more.

One day, we went to the bakery. Ethan’s eyes grew huge at the sight of the display case, his little hands pressed against the glass.

“Which one do you want?” Daniel asked.

“All of them!” Ethan declared, making us both laugh.

We compromised on two rolls, one dusted with sugar and one filled with chocolate. Ethan devoured his own with crumbs scattering everywhere, and when Daniel tried to wipe his mouth, Ethan wriggled away with a giggle.

I could not stop smiling. The sound of it felt foreign at first, but then it came easier, as though my body remembered how. I was finally leaving and it was because of Daniel and Ethan.

Another day, Daniel took me to the small farmer’s market. I had not been in years, and the moment I stepped in, the scent of fresh fruit and bread wrapped around me. I caught myself stopping at a flower stall, my fingers brushing against the petals.

“I guess some things do not change after all. You have always liked flowers, haven't you?” Daniel asked quietly.

I glanced at him, surprised he remembered something so small. “Yeah, you are right.”

He smiled. “You still should. Don’t stop doing the little things that make you happy.”

It was such a simple comment, but it stayed with me all day.

It was not just about the outings.

It was about how Daniel listened without judgment, how Ethan climbed into my lap as though I belonged with them, how their presence made the silence inside me less loud.

And slowly, I realized, I was letting myself trust again.

Of course, I was cautious. My past was not something I could set down easily. There were nights when I still woke up restless, Drew’s voice echoing in my head, or memories of Max making my stomach twist. But the more time I spent with Daniel and Ethan, the more I felt like maybe the scars did not have to define every choice I made.

Maybe I could still let myself have small joys

One particular afternoon stood out.

Daniel suggestedwe visit the park. I hesitated at first, but Ethan was so excited that I could not say no.

The sky stretched wide and blue, a gentle breeze rustling the trees. Ethan darted ahead with his ball, his laughter carrying across the open space.

Daniel and I found a bench nearby, settling side by side. The silence was comfortable, broken only by Ethan’s cheerful shouts and the distant chirp of birds.

I pulled my cardigan tighter around me, my hands resting unconsciously over my stomach. Watching Ethan play stirred something tender, something maternal, deep in me. One day, I thought, I would sit like this with my own child running ahead.

Daniel’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“Lila.” His tone was steady but weighted, different from his usual calm.

I turned to him, sensing the shift immediately. “Yes?”

He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on me. For a moment, he did not speak, as if he was gathering the right words.

Finally, he looked me directly in the eye.

“There’s something important I have been meaning to tell you.”

The words landed between us like a stone in still water, rippling outward.

My heart stuttered, my pulse quickening though I did not know why.

I glanced at Ethan, still playing, blissfully unaware. Then back at Daniel, whose eyes held a seriousness I had not seen before.

Something important.

I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.

“What is it?” I asked softly, though part of me was not sure I was ready to hear the answer.

He did not reply immediately. He just held my gaze, steady and unwavering, as though he wanted me to know this was not something casual.

My breath caught and I just waited for his response. I knew that whatever Daniel was about to say had the power to shift everything