Girlfriend????

CHAPTER FOUR: GIRLFRIEND

ANNALISE

Morning came earlier than I expected. Maybe it was the drugs Vera had given me last night, I slept—well, as much as I could, with every ache in my body reminding me of yesterday.

My head throbbed lightly, my arms and legs were stiff, and even moving my shoulders made me wince. Still, it was better than yesterday.

I rested my hand on my stomach, and Sam’s words echoed sharply in my mind: Get rid of it, I don’t want it.

Tears welled up, blurring my vision. A sob caught in my throat, and a trickle of catarrh dribbled down my face.

I pressed my palm gently against my stomach, whispering, almost to myself, “Mummy will protect you, my love.” It wasn’t just a promise—it was a lifeline, something I clung to in a world that suddenly felt uncertain and frightening.

My phone lay on the table, screen facing up. No new notifications—just Sam’s message, staring back at me.

I exhaled, irritation and helplessness bubbling together. “There’s nothing to fix, Sam,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Dropping the phone onto the bed, I forced myself to the stairs. Each step protested with aches and soreness, but I moved forward. Pain reminded me my body wasn’t fully mine yet, a constant reminder that yesterday had left more than just memories—it had left marks.

Halfway down, the smell of breakfast hit me—scrambled eggs, warm and greasy—and my stomach twisted with unease.

At the table sat a man, casually eating, absorbed in his meal—the stranger from last night.

“Oh, Missy, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?” he asked, his voice easy, calm, attentive.

He didn’t look up at first, just kept cutting his eggs with precision.

“I did… Vera was very kind,” I replied softly, lowering my gaze, careful not to meet his eyes. My voice sounded smaller than I expected, brittle even.

“Here,” he said, gesturing toward the empty chair across from him. “Join me for breakfast.”

I hesitated. My legs ached, my muscles protested, and a knot of unease sat heavy in my chest. But he’d been kind, genuinely kind, so I slowly eased into the chair.

As I sat, I studied him again. There was something strangely familiar—though I couldn’t place it.

It wasn’t just that I had seen him yesterday; a part of me knew him. My mind swirled with recognition, a memory I couldn’t quite summon, just the echo of something familiar in the curve of his jaw, the set of his shoulders.

Vera appeared then, tray in hand. “Morning, ma’am. What would you like for breakfast?” she asked gently, her eyes flicking to me with concern I wanted to brush away.

“I… I just want water for now,” I whispered, my throat tight, the dryness making my words rasp.

“You sure? You should eat something… for the baby,” he said softly, glancing at me with a look that made my heart tighten. His voice was careful, tentative, layered with concern.

My eyes widened. How did he know?

He noticed my curiosity and answered without me answering any questions.

“You said ‘protect my baby’ last night, touching your tummy,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I figured you were pregnant. Plus… you had your wedding ring on.”

“Oh…” I murmured, brushing a hand lightly over my stomach. My heart skipped with both embarrassment and relief, a strange comfort settling in my chest. “Tea is fine, Vera. Thank you.”

Vera nodded, leaving the tray behind with a reassuring smile before retreating to the kitchen. Her quiet, unobtrusive presence made me feel less alone, like someone was gently watching over me without judgment.

I wanted to thank him last night… but I hadn’t. Now, the words hovered at the tip of my tongue.

“Thank you, Mr…” Suddenly, I realized I didn’t know his name. I froze, my voice caught in my throat. “Thank you… for everything.”

“It’s Aiden Blackwood,” he said calmly, letting the name hang in the air like a soft chord.

"What?" I asked, my heart skipped, a little jolt of shock running straight to my chest.

“My name… is Aiden Blackwood.”

“Ooh...” I faltered, words tangling in my mind.

“Call me… Aiden” He said and he ate one bite again.

Recognition hit like lightning—the poise, the presence—it all clicked. I was staring at the famous designer everyone in Los Angeles talked about. Suddenly, the casual kindness I’d felt from him last night collided with awe and disbelief.

“Blackwood… you are Blackwood?” I asked, disbelief lacing my voice, my fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the table.

“Yes,” he replied calmly, almost amused by my reaction.

“You’re the famous designer?” I murmured to myself. “Gosh… I love your designs.”

He chuckled lightly, the sound gentle, grounding, but with a sparkle that made it clear he didn't like to be being seen like this in private. “Thank you.”

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to steady myself. My pulse was racing, my thoughts scattered. “Your mum inspired me to want to make dresses. She’s… super talented.”

“Yes, she is,” he admitted, smiling warmly, the kind of smile that eased tension without trying too hard.

“I design too, you know,” I added quietly, almost shyly.

“That’s nice,” he said, nodding before glancing at the clock. “Well… I have to head out now. Vera will help you, and when you’re ready, you can leave.”

I wanted to ask if I could stay longer, figure out my life… but my tongue faltered, my voice caught somewhere between fear and exhaustion.

My mind was spinning as polished heels clicked across the floor.

And then the door opened.

A woman appeared in the doorway—sharp, sophisticated, radiating authority. Her eyes locked on Aiden immediately. My breath caught. I recognized her instantly: Evelyn Blackwood, the mentor I had admired from afar for years, the one whose work I had studied obsessively, the one I had always hoped to meet.

“Mum,” Aiden said, a mixture of surprise, pride, and caution in his voice.

“How are you here this early? I wasn’t expecting you,” he asked, raising an eyebrow, though his tone softened.

“Well, son, is that the way to greet your mother?” she said lightly, her eyes scanning the table, but her gaze landed on me in an instant.

“Hi, mum… you shouldn’t be here…” Aiden’s voice was tense, almost protective.

“Is that so, son? Well, I decided to surprise you. It’s been a while, and since when do I need an invitation?” She turned her attention fully toward me now, her sharp gaze softening with curiosity. “And who do we have here? Does the famous, heartless designer son of mine, who vowed never to fall in love… now have a girlfriend?”

“Mum, I am not heartless. I beg to differ… and… emhhh no I mean, Yes, finally, I have a girlfriend,” Aiden said, a mixture of pride and embarrassment on his face. His hand brushed mine briefly under the table, grounding me, reminding me I wasn’t invisible in this moment.

Evelyn’s eyes studied me, widening slightly in awe and surprise. She stepped closer, the air between us charged with a mix of recognition, admiration, and careful appraisal. “So… this is her,” she murmured, awe threading through her voice. “She looks… lovely.”

My chest tightened. The mentor I had long admired, the woman who had influenced so much of my creative ambitions, was standing in front of me, genuinely impressed, even moved.

Aiden jaw tightened, eyes darting briefly to his mother before settling somewhere near the floor—anywhere but on me.

“Yes. Of—of course it’s her.” His voice wavered, just a fraction, like he was trying to steady it. “She is my girlfriend.”

But the way he said it… it didn’t sound like he was trying to convince his mother.It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Evelyn’s expression softened further, a rare, warm smile breaking through her usual polish.

“G-Girlfriend?” The word stumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. I stared at him, my heart slamming painfully against my ribs. “I’m… your girlfriend?”