Chapter 6

pov Amelie

That night passed in suffocating silence. The lights in the master bedroom had been dimmed, leaving only the faint glow of the bedside lamp on the nightstand. I lay stiffly on the soft mattress, staring at the ceiling adorned with classic carvings. Behind me, Reyvano slept on his side, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist as if I were something precious that could disappear with the slightest breeze. His steady breaths warmed the nape of my neck, proving how exhausted the man was after dealing with his mother's drama earlier that afternoon.

Yet my eyes refused to close. My mind was in complete turmoil, spinning endlessly without direction. Every second I spent in this embrace felt like a real betrayal. Reyvano loved Amora—or at least, the woman he believed had been Amora all this time. And I, Amelie, was nothing more than a false shadow clinging to someone else's suffering just to fulfill my longing for the baby I had lost.

I had to leave.

The thought pressed insistently against my mind once again. If I continued staying here, sooner or later, this lie would explode and destroy all of us. Reyvano would hate me, Madam Hana would trample on my dignity even more, and Ardhana... that poor baby would lose the person who gave him warmth.

Slowly, with movements as small and gentle as possible, I lifted Reyvano's strong arm from around my waist. It felt heavy because his muscles were so firm, but I continued pushing it away little by little until his hold loosened. Once I had freed myself, I held my breath for a moment, watching Reyvano's face in the dim light. He stirred slightly and turned onto his other side, but his eyes remained tightly shut.

I slipped down from the king-size bed. My feet landed silently on the wooden floor covered with a thick carpet. On tiptoe, I grabbed Amora's wool cardigan coat draped over a chair, then quietly made my way toward the master bedroom door.

My hand reached for the doorknob and slowly turned it to avoid making the metal hinges creak. The door opened slightly, just wide enough for me to slip through. The cold air from the second-floor hallway immediately brushed against my skin as I managed to get out and quietly closed the master bedroom door behind me.

My heart pounded as if it were about to leap out of my chest. I hurried along the dimly lit, magnificent corridor toward the main staircase at the end of the hallway. I had made up my mind. Tonight, I would leave this house, find a taxi, and return to my quiet little village, leaving Amora to face the consequences of her own actions.

However, just as my foot touched the first step, a sharp sound shattered the silence of the night.

“Waa... waa... waa...!”

A baby's high-pitched cry echoed through the corner of the upstairs corridor. My footsteps immediately came to a halt. That cry was so familiar, so heartbreaking, striking directly at the deepest part of my chest.

It was Ardhana's voice.

I stood frozen, biting my lower lip uncertainly. My right foot was already ready to step down to the lower floor, but my ears continued to catch the baby's increasingly desperate whimpers, followed by the panicked voices of the caregivers from the nursery next door.

“Oh, little Master is crying again. Why won't he drink his bottle?” one of the babysitters asked anxiously from behind the nursery door, which was slightly ajar.

“We've tried different temperatures, but he still refuses. He's looking for his mother!” another caregiver replied in despair.

Ardhana's cries grew louder, turning into heart-wrenching sobs. A baby that small knew nothing yet. He only needed warmth. He needed the breast milk flowing from my body, not the sterile bottle of formula that felt foreign in his mouth.

My feet felt rooted to the floor. I squeezed my eyes shut, cursing my own foolishness for not having the resolve to leave once and for all. My intention to escape instantly vanished, destroyed by the overwhelming pity I felt for that innocent baby.

With a shaky breath, I turned around. Instead of continuing down the stairs, I turned back and hurried toward the nursery.

As soon as I pushed open the nursery door, the two middle-aged female caregivers immediately turned toward me with pale faces.

“Madam!” one of them exclaimed in utter relief. “Little Master woke up and started crying hysterically. He absolutely refuses to touch the bottle of formula we prepared. He keeps rejecting it.”

I did not answer. I immediately walked toward the crib and reached out to lift Ardhana's tiny body, his face already flushed from crying. The moment he was in my arms and felt the warmth of my body, Ardhana's cries gradually weakened into soft whimpers. The baby immediately buried his head against my left breast, as if recognizing the scent that had given him life for the past two days.

“Leave for a moment,” I ordered the two caregivers softly but firmly. “Let me calm him down.”

“Yes, Madam,” they answered in unison before quickly leaving the room and closing the door behind them, giving us some privacy.

I sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the nursery. His tiny hands moved restlessly against my chest. Without thinking any further, I unbuttoned the top of my nightgown, allowing my already tense breast to provide what the baby needed.

Instantly, Ardhana's tiny lips latched onto my nipple and he drank the warm milk eagerly. His first suck made me wince slightly from the pain, but the next second, a soothing warmth spread throughout my body. Ardhana's sobs completely stopped, replaced by the soft sounds of his contented suckling that calmed the atmosphere of the night.

I gently stroked the fine hair on Ardhana's head while tears unconsciously trickled down my cheeks.

“Forgive me, Ardhana...” I whispered softly in the silence of the night, kissing his tiny forehead with affection. “Your real mother isn't me... but I can't bring myself to leave you.”

I was trapped. Torn between my desire to escape and save my dignity, and the sincerity of a mother's instinct that had already become deeply attached to this baby.