A Love Forged In Ruins 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 81 - 챕터 90

Layla's POV The house was too quiet when we returned. For all the noise the world had made—the beeping machines, the cries, the congratulations—the silence in our hallway hit harder than I expected. I hadn't noticed before how much noise we carried around with us. How much life we brought with our footsteps. But now, everything felt still. Too still.Damian unlocked the door and held it open with a shoulder, his hands full with two hospital bags. His face was soft, but there was a kind of tired wonder in his eyes, like the weight of fatherhood had finally landed. I stepped in slowly, holding a baby carrier in each hand. Our son in one. Our daughter in the other. Two fragile, perfect little pieces of us. Behind me, Jaden hovered, his backpack still slung over one shoulder like he’d forgotten it was there. He looked like he was trying to shrink into himself, like he wasn’t sure where he belonged in this new version of our lives.“Do you want to help me set them down?” I asked him, gen

Layla's POV I woke to the sound of breathing.Not the calm, steady rhythm of a man asleep beside me—but a shallow, frantic kind of panting. I turned in the dark. Damian sat upright, his chest rising and falling, sweat glistening on his forehead even in the faint glow from the nightlight near the crib.His voice cracked through the silence."Mama... no, please—don’t leave..."I reached out slowly. “Damian?” I whispered. “It’s just a dream.”He didn’t answer. His eyes were wide open, but I could tell he wasn’t really awake. Whatever place his mind had taken him, it wasn’t here with me.Only when I touched his arm did he flinch and come back.He blinked. Looked at me. Then looked away.“I’m fine,” he said. His voice was clipped, guarded.I didn’t push. I wanted to. But something about the way he turned his back to me and lay down again made my throat tighten. I lay beside him in silence, feeling the distance stretch between us in the dark.The next morning, I watched him at the breakfas

Layla's POV The morning started quietly. For once.The twins were fed, changed, and—miracle of miracles—both asleep in their bassinets by the window. A pale wash of sunlight spilled across the nursery floor, warming the soft pastel rug beneath my bare feet. I sat in the armchair, Kieran’s tiny knitted blanket draped across my lap, sipping a lukewarm cup of tea like it was the most decadent luxury in the world.In the living room, Jaden sat at the dining table with his math workbook open, his brow furrowed as he tapped a pencil against the page. I could hear the faint scratch of graphite, the occasional sigh of frustration. He’d been putting in the effort lately—showing up to school, staying out of trouble—and I knew better than to disturb his concentration when he was in the zone.Damian was in his office down the hall. The door was closed, which usually meant a video call or a negotiation that couldn’t be interrupted. I didn’t think much of it—our lives were full of meetings, especi

Layla’s POVThe house felt wrong.Not loud, not angry—just wrong.It was the kind of quiet that pressed against your ears until you swore you could hear your own pulse. The kind where the hum of the refrigerator sounded like a roar and every creak in the floorboards made you turn your head. Damian had left nearly an hour ago, after slamming the door with a force that rattled the frames on the wall.Now it was just me and the twins.Kieran’s cry sliced through the stillness first—thin, urgent, and wet with frustration. I moved on instinct, crossing the living room in a few quick steps before scooping him from the bassinet. His tiny fists balled in protest as I rocked him against my shoulder.“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Mama’s here.” My voice was barely a whisper, but it was all I had.I could still hear Damian’s voice in my head, sharp and deliberate, echoing over the sound of my own heartbeat."It’s an opportunity I can’t just walk away from, Layla."I’d wanted to tell him that I wasn’t as

Damian’s POVThe twins were napping upstairs, their little breaths rising and falling in perfect rhythm. The baby monitor sat on the table between us, its tiny green light glowing like an unblinking eye.Layla was across the room on the sofa, folding baby clothes in slow, careful movements. She didn’t hum like she used to. Didn’t glance up. Just fold, smooth, stack. Repeat.The soft sound of fabric against fabric filled the room. It was the only sound besides the occasional click of my laptop keys.I was at the dining table, pretending to work—typing half-heartedly through an email I’d started an hour ago. Work used to swallow me whole; I’d look up and realize hours had passed. Now, I couldn’t go ten minutes without looking at her.We were in the same room, breathing the same air, but it felt like we were continents apart.“Those onesies are almost too small already,” I said finally, my voice breaking the stillness.She didn’t look at me. “Mm-hmm.”Her hands kept moving—deliberate, pr