Semua Bab Daddy stranger : Bab 1 - Bab 10

The morning sun spilled softly over the small cottage in the village, golden rays catching on the wooden beams and dust motes floating lazily in the air. The garden was alive with colors—vivid marigolds, delicate roses, and the soft green of creeping ivy that Amara had tended herself over the past ten years.Amara bent down to water the plants, her fingers brushing against the soil, grounding her in a life she had built with determination and quiet strength. She had carved out this world for herself and her daughter, Crystal, far away from the chaos of cities and the mistakes of her past.Crystal, now ten, was running barefoot across the garden, her curls bouncing with every step. She laughed, a sound so pure it made Amara pause and watch, heart swelling. The little girl had her mother’s soft brown eyes and a hint of a mischievous streak, but there was something different too—something almost otherworldly in the way her gaze lingered on the horizon.“Mom, look!” Crystal called out, ho

Amara didn’t sleep that night.Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Ethan’s face—older, sharper, still devastatingly familiar. And worse than that, she saw the way his eyes had changed when he realized the truth. Not anger. Not shock.Recognition.That terrified her.At dawn, she rose quietly, tying her hair back with shaking hands. Crystal was still asleep, curled up on the thin mattress, one arm hugging her pillow. Amara stood there longer than necessary, watching her chest rise and fall.I protected you for ten years, she thought.I won’t fail you now.She had barely stepped outside when she saw him.Ethan Kael stood near the edge of the compound, dressed casually for once—dark jeans, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked out of place and perfectly planted at the same time, like a predator pretending to admire the scenery.“You’re early,” she said coldly.“I didn’t leave,” he replied. “Didn’t feel right.”She scoffed. “That didn’t stop you before.”His jaw flexed,

The town had a way of pretending it didn’t watch.People smiled. They greeted politely. They minded their business just enough to make you believe you were invisible. But Amara had lived here long enough to know better.Nothing stayed unseen.That morning, as she walked beside Crystal toward the school building, she felt it in her skin—the subtle shift in the air. Conversations dipped. Laughter softened. Eyes lingered a second longer than necessary before sliding away.Crystal didn’t notice.She never did.Her backpack bounced against her shoulders as she walked, humming a tune she’d picked up from the radio. She was talking about her reading club, about how Mrs. Hensley promised them a surprise if they finished their books early.Amara listened with half an ear.Her attention was elsewhere.“Mom?” Crystal said suddenly, stopping short.Amara almost walked into her. “What is it?”Crystal pointed. “He’s there.”Amara followed her gaze.Ethan stood near the front steps of the school, sp

The house felt different after the truth came out.Not broken.Not loud.Just… unsettled.Amara stood at the kitchen sink long after midnight, staring at nothing, hands gripping the edge like it might slip away. The clock ticked loudly on the wall, each second pressing into her chest.Crystal had gone to bed hours ago. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t asked questions. That somehow made it worse.A knock came at the door.Amara didn’t jump. She already knew who it was.She opened it to find Ethan standing there, hands in his jacket pockets, jaw tight. The porch light carved shadows across his face.“We need to talk,” he said again.She stepped aside without a word.They sat across from each other at the dining table like strangers negotiating a fragile ceasefire.“This shouldn’t have happened like that,” Ethan said.“No,” Amara replied flatly. “It shouldn’t have happened at all.”His eyes snapped up. “That’s not fair.”“What’s not fair,” she said, voice shaking despite her effort, “is you

Amara had spent ten years pretending she had moved on.She told herself she had healed. That survival counted as closure. That building a quiet life meant the past had lost its power.She was wrong.Because when Ethan stood on that bridge apologizing to a ten-year-old girl with her eyes, the past came back whole—sharp, vivid, unforgiving.That night never left her.She had just learned how to carry it.Crystal slept between them that night.Not because she was scared—Crystal never admitted fear—but because silence felt louder when she was alone.Amara lay awake on one side of the bed. Ethan sat rigidly on the chair by the window, like a man afraid that lying down would cross an invisible line.Neither slept.Around 2 a.m., Crystal shifted, murmured something unintelligible, then settled again.That was when Amara finally spoke.“I didn’t trap you.”Ethan turned immediately.“I never thought you did.”“I didn’t know who you were,” she continued, voice low. “I didn’t know your name. I d