Chapter 117

Lila’s POV

The room tilted the moment his head lifted

He had been sitting so quietly, I almost did not recognize him at first. But there he was, every sharp line of his face etched into my memory, his posture stiff, his eyes dark, guarded, yet undeniably familiar. For a second, the world stopped. My lungs forgot how to pull in air.

And then he stood. Slowly and hesitantly.

“Hi, Lila,” he said.

Two small words. But the sound of them hit me like a tidal wave. His voice was low, almost cautious, like he was afraid if he spoke too loudly, I would vanish.

My throat tightened and my lips parted, but nothing came out. Shock rooted me to the ground. I did not know whether to scream, to cry, or to laugh at the sheer absurdity of seeing him here, in my parents’ living room of all places.

The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting and pleading.

And then, suddenly, a small voice cut through it all.

“Grandma, who is that?”

Ethan.

I had completely forgotten Daniel and Ethan were still here, their presence shoved to the back of my mind by the storm that was Drew. Ethan’s big curious eyes blinked up at my mother, his little hand clutching the toy car he always carried around.

The innocence of the question pierced through me, grounding me back to reality.

My mother’s gaze darted quickly to me, then to Drew, and then finally landed on Daniel. And in that brief exchange of looks, I saw everything, her worry, her fear and her silent plea that sounded like ‘please, get Ethan out of here. He should not see this and do not let him get caught up in this mess.’

Daniel’s jaw clenched, but he understood. He always understood.

He crouched beside Ethan, his voice low and gentle. “Hey, buddy. I think we should get going.”

Ethan’s brows furrowed. “But why? We just came to greet grandma, I thought we would stay a while.” His little lips jutted out in a pout.

“I know,” Daniel soothed, brushing a hand over his son’s hair. “But Aunty Lila needs some quiet time right now. We will come back again soon, okay?”

Ethan turned his head toward me, eyes searching mine for confirmation. The innocence there nearly broke me.

I crouched down, forcing my lips into a smile I didn’t feel. “Your dad’s right, sweetheart. I will see you again soon, I promise.”

He frowned for a moment, clearly not satisfied, but then he sighed and stepped forward, wrapping his tiny arms around me. “Bye, Aunty Lila.”

My chest ached as I hugged him back. “Bye, Ethan.”

When he pulled away, Daniel was already standing again, his expression unreadable but steady. His eyes flicked to mine, holding my gaze just a second too long. Then he leaned down, his words meant for me alone.

“We will talk later,” he murmured.

And then, before I could react, he pulled me briefly into a hug. It was small, restrained, but real. Warmth spread through me despite the chaos swirling in the room.

I didn’t have to look at Drew to know what his face looked like. The energy in the air shifted sharply, prickling against my skin. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught it; the tightening of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils and the way his hands curled into fists at his sides.

But he said nothing. Did nothing.

Daniel pulled back, turning politely to my parents. “Thank you for having us.”

My father gave him a curt nod, his expression still taut with barely concealed fury. My mother managed a small smile, though her eyes were heavy with unspoken words.

And then Daniel lifted Ethan into his arms, his son resting his head on his shoulder. Together, they stepped toward the door.

Ethan gave me one last sleepy wave. “Bye, Aunty Lila!”

I waved back, my throat thick.

The door closed softly behind them.

And then there were three.

I turned back to Drew, my pulse hammering in my ears. “What are you doing here?”

The words came out harsher than I intended, but I could not help it. My walls slammed back into place instinctively, shielding me from whatever storm he was about to bring.

His eyes locked on mine, raw and desperate. “Please, Lila. I just want to talk.”

That was all. No explanation, no apology, no preamble. Just please.

My father erupted before I could respond.

“There is nothing to talk about with my daughter.”

The force of his voice rattled me. He stood, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His face was red, his fists clenched at his sides. “Not after what you did to her and certainly not after the way you treated her.”

The room vibrated with his fury.

And Drew, Drew did not fight back. He did not match the anger and didn't raise his voice. He just stood there, shoulders slightly hunched, eyes lowered, as if my father’s rage had physically pressed him into the ground.

I had never seen him like that. Drew, who commanded boardrooms and silenced crowds with a glance, looked… small. Like a boy caught doing something wrong.

My stomach twisted.

“Enough,” my mother’s calm but firm voice sliced through the tension. She stepped toward my father, her hand on his arm. “This is not helping.”

He turned on her, his voice tight. “You want to let him sit here and…”

“I want to let Lila decide what she needs,” she cut in, steady but gentle. Her eyes softened as she looked at me.

My father’s jaw flexed, but after a tense pause, he dropped back into his chair with a huff, muttering something under his breath about “mistakes.”

Then my mother’s gaze shifted back to me.

“Lila,” she said quietly, “we will go inside and give you space.” She held my eyes for a moment longer. “If you need us, all you have to do is call.”

Her words landed like a safety net.

I nodded, though every nerve in me screamed with unease.

She tugged lightly at my father’s arm, guiding him toward the hallway. He didn’t look back at Drew once, though I could feel his anger simmering with every step.

And then they were gone.

The door to the inner rooms clicked shut behind them, and silence rushed in, heavy and suffocating.

Drew remained standing, his eyes never leaving me. He had not moved since he spoke.

He looked… different. Not the cold, distant man I had grown to know in the city. Not even the broken, drunken man whose voice had reached me through the phone the previous night.

No, this Drew looked stripped bare. His shoulders were tense, but his eyes, his eyes were filled with something I didn’t know how to name. Fear, regret, or maybe both.

For the first time since I have known him, Drew looked afraid.

Afraid of me.

Afraid of what would come next.

And as the silence grew, pressing in on us like walls, I realized something terrifying, I did not know if I wanted to hear what he had to say.