All Chapters of In love with my step-son : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

“Celine. I’m so glad you called.”Dr. Maya’s voice was soft, almost like a blanket over my heart. I pressed the phone tighter against my ear, fighting the tears that were already threatening to fall.“I… I didn’t know who else to call,” I whispered, my voice cracking.“You did the right thing,” she said. “Where are you now?”I looked around the empty street. The bench I was sitting on was hard and cold. The streetlamps above me flickered in and out. Everything felt like it could break at any moment — even me.“I’m outside,” I said, my voice shaking. “In the park… near Main Street. I’ve been staying with someone, but… I had to leave.”There was a pause on the line, then her voice returned, firmer this time.“Stay right where you are. I’m coming.”I blinked. “What? No, I didn’t mean—”“I’m coming, Celine,” she repeated. “Sit tight. Ten minutes.”And before I could argue, she had ended the call.I stared down at the phone in my hand. My heart was racing.Why was she doing this?She didn’

The storm had passed, but the silence it left behind felt even louder.Outside the window, the rain had stopped, but the sky still hung heavy with gray clouds. Puddles reflected broken patches of sky, and the trees bent low under the weight of soaked leaves. The world had quieted, as if nature itself were holding its breath, waiting to see what came next.I lay in the bed, barely able to move, my arms wrapped protectively around the tiny life curled against my chest. My body ached in ways I never thought possible. Every muscle burned, every bone throbbed, but none of that mattered. Not now. Not with her in my arms.My daughter—my baby—was fast asleep, her soft breathing the only sound in the dimly lit room. The little rise and fall of her chest became my anchor, my reason to breathe. Her skin was still flushed pink from the stormy night’s delivery, her dark hair damp and clinging to her scalp. Tiny fingers curled and twitched against me as if grasping at invisible dreams, dreams of a

I walked slowly into the small guest room Dr. Maya had set up for me, my baby cradled gently in my arms. The walls were painted in soft pastels, and the light from the window fell across the white sheets like a quiet blessing. It wasn’t home, not really. But it was warm. Safe. And after everything, that was enough.I sank down onto the edge of the bed, the baby fussing softly as I shifted her in my arms. Her tiny hand brushed against my collarbone, her skin warm and innocent, untouched by the pain I carried inside me.I looked around the room and sighed.Everything in my life had changed, and yet… my heart still ached for what could have been.That night, when the baby finally drifted off to sleep beside me, wrapped in a soft pink blanket Dr. Maya had bought earlier, I sat staring at the ceiling. Silence wrapped around me like a heavy blanket.But silence had never been kind.Because that’s when the memories came.I remembered Derrick’s laugh—deep and warm, the kind that made my chest

That night, after Eliza left Maya’s house, I sat in silence on the floor of the guest room. The baby slept beside me, her small breaths steady, peaceful. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. My heart felt like it was wrapped in barbed wire.I pulled the folded paper from under my shirt. It was slightly crumpled now—the birth certificate I had taken from Ruth Clarke’s house. My supposed mum.Whatever I should call her now.I didn’t even know why I had taken it at the time. Something in my gut had screamed at me to hold onto it. Like a voice deep inside whispering, This will matter.I opened it slowly, smoothing out the folds. My eyes locked on the line that confirmed everything.Mother: Eliza Monroe.My breath caught. My heart dropped into my stomach.“Eliza Monroe...” I whispered, the name cracking from my lips like glass shattering.I pressed a hand over my mouth to stop the sob that pushed up from my throat. But it didn’t work. Tears blurred my vision, hot and f

“Smells like pancakes.”The words left my lips before I even fully opened my eyes.I blinked and sat up slowly on the edge of the bed. The light pouring through the thin curtains was soft and golden, like warm honey. The pale walls of the room caught the morning glow, giving everything a quiet calm.Elora stirred against my chest, her little body warm and soft. Her tiny fingers clung to my nightshirt, refusing to let go even in sleep.I stilled, listening.There it was again—the faint clatter of dishes. A soft sizzle. The rhythm of something being flipped in a frying pan.I frowned.Maya wasn’t home. She’d gone to the hospital early this morning. She left before the sun came up.So who—Still holding Elora close, I stood carefully. My feet brushed the cool tiles as I padded softly toward the door. Each step was slow, cautious. My heart beat a little faster with each movement.I turned the corner into the small kitchen—and stopped.Eliza was standing at the stove.She wore a pale cardi