Chapter 39

Max’s presence at my doorstep felt like a tidal wave crashing into a quiet shore, uninvited, sudden, and too powerful to ignore.

I watched from the couch, heart thudding beneath my pajama top, as my mom blinked up at him. The silence that followed her soft “Oh” stretched like an awkward thread, taut and delicate.

“Hi,” Max finally said, his voice slightly breathless, as if he hadn’t quite planned this moment, as if he wasn’t sure if he should even be here.

“Hi,” my mom replied, her voice gentle but guarded. She looked him over, her eyes lingering just a second too long on the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

Max shifted uncomfortably. “I…I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I didn’t know anyone else was here.”

My mom’s lips twitched into a polite smile. “And you are?”

I stood, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders as I walked toward the door. “Mom, this is Max,” I said, my voice softer than I intended. “Max, this is my mom.”

Her brows lifted slightly as she turned to look at me, realization flickering in her eyes.

“Oh,” she said again. “Max.”

Max offered a hand, and to my surprise, my mom took it.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” he said, his voice more confident now. “I just wanted to check on Lila. She hasn’t been picking my calls.”

I avoided his eyes, pretending to adjust the knot of my robe even though it was already tight enough to cut off circulation.

“I’ve been… busy,” I mumbled.

Max’s eyes searched mine, as though hoping for more. I didn’t offer any.

He turned back to my mom. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I’ll just drop these and go.” He held out the bouquet lilies and pink carnations, the exact flowers I’d once told him were my favourite during a late night call in college.

I hesitated before reaching for them.

“Thank you,” I said.

He nodded. “You’re welcome.”

My mom stepped back slightly to let him in. “Would you like a drink?” she asked out of courtesy, though I could tell she wasn’t quite sure if this was the right moment to play hostess.

Max shook his head. “No, thank you. I really should be going.”

“Okay,” she said with a light nod.

Max turned to me, pausing. “Lila… I will call later to check up on you. That’s if you don't mind.”

“That’s fine,” I said, barely above a whisper.

He gave me a small, almost sad smile, then looked back at my mom. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs Bennett.”

“You too, Max.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The door clicked softly behind him, but the shift in energy was sharp.

My mom turned to me, one brow raised. “Well… that was something.”

I exhaled and turned toward the kitchen, placing the flowers in the sink without much thought. “Yeah. It was.”

She followed, her robe brushing the tile softly behind her. “He’s handsome,” she said gently.

I shot her a look. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m not starting,” she said, raising her hands. “Just observing. Is he the one offering to…?”

“Take responsibility?” I finished for her, leaning against the counter. “Yeah. That’s him.”

She nodded slowly, reaching for a bottle of water from the fridge. “He seems… genuine.”

I picked at the edge of my sleeve. “Maybe. But something feels off.”

“Off, how?”

I sighed. “Like he’s hiding something. He’s saying all the right things, doing all the right things… but it just feels like he’s trying too hard.”

My mom leaned on the other side of the counter. “Do you think he wants something from you?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I think he wants to be needed. I think he likes the idea of being the hero in someone else’s story. But I’m not looking for a savior right now. I’m just trying to survive.”

She watched me for a moment, her face soft with concern. “Have you told him that?”

I shook my head. “Not exactly. But I haven’t given him anything either. No mixed signals. No promises. Just space.”

She nodded again. “Good. Because you don’t owe anyone anything right now except honesty starting with yourself first.”

I gave her a grateful look.

We stood like that for a few minutes, the silence more peaceful now, more thoughtful. Then her voice cut through it, quiet but sure.

“I think it’s time to tell your father.”

I swallowed.

I had known this was coming. Ever since I told her, a part of me had been waiting for this conversation.

“You’re right,” I whispered.

She smiled gently. “We’ll do it together.”

I nodded, heart pounding.

She reached for her phone on the counter and handed it to me. “Call him. Put it on speaker.”

My fingers trembled slightly as I dialed his number. It rang once, twice, then a deep, familiar voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” I said, trying to sound light.

“My Lila. How are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine.”

My mom gave me a subtle nod and stepped closer.

“Dad,” I said, my throat tight. “I need to tell you something. Something important.”

His voice shifted instantly. “What is it? Are you alright?”

I looked to my mom. She placed a firm, steadying hand on mine. I took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

Not the kind that felt like judgment. Just shock. Pure and unfiltered.

My father’s voice, when it came, was soft. Careful. “Lila… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

More silence.

“Okay, Ehmm is the father planning to do right by you, when will you be bringing him home..,” he asked in a rush and I'm sure he had more questions but my mom interrupted him.

“I think we should take a break here,” she said with a slight chuckle. “I know that this seems like a lot but I will explain everything to you when I get back honey. Let's just accept the fact that she has informed us for now.”

“Okay.” He replied.

That one word broke me. It held no anger. No accusations. Just calm. Understanding. Acceptance.

“We’re figuring it out together,” My mother chipped in. “She’s not alone.”

“I know,” he replied. “Thank you for telling me. And Lila?”

“Yes?”

“I love you. Nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”

Tears burned my eyes. “I love you too, Dad.”

He let out a breath. “We’ll talk more soon. But thank you for trusting me with this.”

After we hung up, I dropped the phone on the counter and buried my face in my hands.

My mom pulled me into a hug, her voice muffled in my hair. “That went better than expected.”

“He didn’t even yell,” I murmured.

“Of course he didn’t. You’re his daughter. And you’re still his pride.”

I clung to her like a child, every ounce of tension I had been holding onto these past months beginning to dissolve.

Max’s visit, though unexpected, had sparked a deeper conversation. And in the quiet aftermath of it all, something inside me shifted.

The fear was still there, but now it was wrapped in something sturdier; love, support, the unshakable bond of family.