Chapter 8: Things We Never Said

The house felt different after the truth came out.

Not broken.

Not loud.

Just… unsettled.

Amara stood at the kitchen sink long after midnight, staring at nothing, hands gripping the edge like it might slip away. The clock ticked loudly on the wall, each second pressing into her chest.

Crystal had gone to bed hours ago. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t asked questions. That somehow made it worse.

A knock came at the door.

Amara didn’t jump. She already knew who it was.

She opened it to find Ethan standing there, hands in his jacket pockets, jaw tight. The porch light carved shadows across his face.

“We need to talk,” he said again.

She stepped aside without a word.

They sat across from each other at the dining table like strangers negotiating a fragile ceasefire.

“This shouldn’t have happened like that,” Ethan said.

“No,” Amara replied flatly. “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”

His eyes snapped up. “That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair,” she said, voice shaking despite her effort, “is you walking back into my life and detonating it.”

“I didn’t know,” he said. “You keep acting like I chose this.”

“You chose to stay away,” she fired back.

Silence stretched.

Ethan leaned back, exhaling slowly. “You disappeared.”

“I was pregnant,” Amara said sharply. “I was scared. Alone. And you were building a life that didn’t have room for me.”

“That wasn’t true.”

“You didn’t even look for me.”

“I did,” he snapped. “You changed your number. You left the city.”

“Because I was trying to survive.”

They stared at each other, years of resentment thick in the air.

“You took my daughter from me,” Ethan said quietly.

Amara’s eyes burned. “I protected her.”

“By lying?”

“By keeping her safe,” Amara insisted. “You don’t get to judge what I did when you weren’t there for the nights she cried or the days I skipped meals to make sure she ate.”

Ethan stood abruptly. “You don’t think I would’ve shown up?”

“I didn’t know that,” she whispered. “And I couldn’t risk being wrong.”

Her voice cracked then, the anger finally giving way.

“I was terrified,” she said. “Terrified that you’d see her and realize she didn’t fit into your life. Terrified that she’d feel unwanted.”

Ethan’s shoulders sagged.

“You should’ve trusted me,” he said.

“I trusted myself more,” she replied.

Up the stairs, Crystal lay awake.

She hadn’t meant to listen.

But voices carried. And curiosity had already rooted itself deep in her chest.

“She deserves to know me,” Ethan said.

“And I deserve to keep my family intact,” Amara replied.

Crystal’s breath caught.

Family.

Intact.

She pressed her ear closer to the door.

“I’m not asking to take her away,” Ethan continued. “I’m asking to be part of her life.”

“And what happens when she gets attached and you leave?” Amara asked. “What then?”

Ethan didn’t answer immediately.

“That’s what I thought,” Amara said bitterly.

“I’m not my father,” Ethan said sharply. “I don’t walk away.”

Crystal froze.

Father.

Her heart started pounding.

“You don’t know that,” Amara said. “Because you’ve never been tested like this.”

Silence again.

Then Ethan spoke, softer now. “I should’ve fought harder for you.”

Amara looked away. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.”

“That’s a lie.”

She stood suddenly. “You don’t get to rewrite history now.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’m trying to build something new.”

Amara’s laugh was hollow. “You can’t just walk back into my life and claim pieces of it.”

“I’m not claiming,” he said. “I’m asking.”

The door upstairs creaked.

Too softly.

Too late.

Crystal stood at the top of the stairs, heart racing.

“I don’t want you to fight because of me,” she said.

Both adults turned sharply.

“Crystal—” Amara rushed forward.

Crystal raised her hand. “I heard enough.”

Ethan swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Crystal looked between them. “You’re both scared.”

Neither denied it.

“I don’t want anyone to leave,” she said simply. “I don’t want secrets anymore.”

Amara knelt in front of her. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I know,” Crystal said. “But I’m not little anymore.”

That truth hit harder than anything else.

“I want to know where I come from,” Crystal continued. “And I want us to figure it out without hurting each other.”

Ethan felt something break open in his chest.

“You’re stronger than both of us,” he said quietly.

Crystal shrugged. “I just don’t like lies.”

Amara pulled her into a hug, tears finally spilling freely.

Later that night, Ethan stood on the porch again.

“This doesn’t mean everything’s fixed,” Amara said.

“I know,” he replied. “But it’s a start.”

She nodded once. “Slow. On my terms.”

“And hers,” he added.

Amara hesitated. Then nodded again.

As the door closed, Amara leaned against it, heart pounding.

The truth was out.

The damage was done.

And now came the hardest part of all—

Learning how to live with it.