Semua Bab Beneath the Surface : Bab 121 - Bab 130

Lila’s POVIt felt like sleep had been forced on me, not gifted.After Drew left, I cried out my eyes until my chest ached, My mom and dad just watched me and when I had no tears left to cry they led me to my room to sleep. They sat on either side of me until the exhaustion came upon me and until the shaking in my hands eased. Then Mom coaxed me into lying down on the bed like I was still her little girl, smoothing the hair from my forehead, humming the soft tune she used to when storms kept me awake. Dad did not say much, he never did when he was angry but his presence filled the room, solid and protective, until my body gave in to sleep.When my eyes finally opened again, gray morning light poured through the curtains, softer now, quieter. For a fleeting moment, I thought maybe it had been a dream. That Drew had never shown up. That he had never said those words.But then I shifted, and the ache in my chest reminded me. It had been real. Every second of it.I rubbed my temples and

Lila’s POVBy the time we left my mother’s shop and returned home that evening, the sky had already begun to dim, streaked with shades of violet and burnt orange that melted into the horizon. The little town felt quieter than usual, or maybe it was just me.My mind was too loud, drowning out the sounds of neighbors closing up their shops, children calling to one another as they were called in for supper, the rhythmic chirp of crickets already beginning to stir in the hedges.My body felt heavier as we drove quietly towards the house. It carried the exhaustion of the day, but my heart carried something far heavier, the weight of everything that had unfolded in just one day. Daniel’s stunned silence when I confessed Drew was the father of my child. The rumors at the shop that clung to me like smoke. And, hovering above it all, Drew’s voice from last night, echoing relentlessly in my head.I pressed a hand to my chest, almost as if I could push the words back down where they belonged, in

Lila’s POVThe air in town always carried too much noise.Not the kind of noise that came from the honking of cars or the rush of footsteps you got in the city. This one was different. In a small town, noise was made of whispers, thin threads of sound that carried faster than the wind. Whispers that found their way into every corner, into every house and into every life.And today, the whispers were about me.I had gone out just to clear my head. It was supposed to be a simple walk, at least that was what I told myself. Nothing dramatic, nothing that would turn into another storm. My feet traced familiar roads, the ones lined with weathered shops whose paint was beginning to chip, the ones where flower boxes leaned out of windows, spilling color into the world. It should have felt peaceful. It should have been home.But I had barely reached the town square before I heard the whispers and I am sure they did not see me, that is why they could comfortably talk about me.“Did you hear abo

Lila’s POVDrew’s words still lingered in the air long after he stood from the armchair. They wrapped around me like threads I could not cut away, each syllable sinking deeper even when I wanted to throw them off.He pushed his hands against his knees and rose slowly, like standing meant lifting the weight of something much heavier than his body. His eyes found mine once more, softer now, almost careful.“I will be going now,” he said, voice steady though tinged with something that made my chest constrict. “I don’t want to overwhelm you. But I will see you some other time.”He paused, as though weighing whether to say more, and then tilted his head slightly. “Is there anything specific you might need? Something I can help with?”The question caught me off guard. For a moment, I just stared at him, my lips parting but no sound coming out. I wanted to say yes, to ask for stability, for clarity, for the impossible peace I had not felt in weeks. But my pride snapped my voice back into pla

Drew’s POVThe first time I showed up at Lila’s house again after that night, I half expected the door to slam in my face.Her silence after then had been brutal. She wasn't even replying to my texts or calls so I had to show up in her house again. Her silence stripped me bare in a way no rejection, no failed deal, no public humiliation ever could. Yet buried in that silence, in the tremble of her voice, in the way her eyes had glistened with unshed tears, I had glimpsed something; a tiny little space, fragile but it was there. She had not shut the door on me forever. And that was enough to keep me coming back.Still, this time I was careful.I didn’t come with words blazing, or with declarations she wasn’t ready to hear. Words had only torn her wounds open before. So I tried something else. Actions.That afternoon, I showed up with a bag of groceries. Nothing extraordinary, just the basics like bread, milk, a carton of eggs and some fresh fruit. I had even asked the shop owner which