CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE THINGS LEFT UNSAID
Damien showed up the next morning at exactly nine.
Not nine-oh-two.
Not eight-fifty-eight.
Exactly nine.
Aria shouldn't have been surprised. He was punctual when he wanted to be. He was consistent when he cared. And now, for the first time in three years, he clearly cared about something that wasn't tied to his boardroom or his company.
He cared about Eli.
And—God help her—he cared about her.
She opened the door before his second knock landed.
"Good morning," Damien said, holding a small paper bag and a larger one at his side.
Aria eyed the bags.
"What's that?"
"Breakfast," he said, lifting the smaller bag. Then he lifted the larger one.
"And supplies."
"Supplies?" she repeated, confused.
"For Eli."
He stepped inside and placed the bags on the table.
"I wasn't sure what he likes, so I got everything."
Aria opened the bag.
Everything was an understatement.
Snacks, small toys, coloring books, fruit packs, two sets of pajamas, toothpaste with cartoon characters, and even a tiny umbrella shaped like a dinosaur.
"Oh my God, Damien," she whispered.
"You didn't have to do all this."
"No," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
"But I wanted to."
Her heart beat too fast.
Before she could say anything else, Eli came running out of his room, barefoot, hair sticking up in all directions.
"Daddy!"
Damien crouched to catch him.
"Hey, champ."
Eli spotted the bag.
"What's that?"
"Stuff for you."
The child's eyes widened, and Aria silently sent a prayer that he wouldn't expect this every day. Damien, for his part, knelt and let Eli rummage through it without hovering.
Aria watched him.
Damien wasn't trying to impress her.
He wasn't trying to play the hero.
He was simply trying.
And that made everything more dangerous.
Damien stayed the whole morning.
Even when Aria tried to suggest he take a break, he refused.
"I told you," he said simply, "I meant what I said."
Later, while Eli napped again, Aria and Damien sat in the living room. Not close—but closer than yesterday. The comfortable kind of closeness that sneaks up on people who know each other too well.
"Can I ask something?" Damien said quietly.
Aria braced herself.
"Go ahead."
"When did you find out you were pregnant?"
She blinked. She hadn't expected that question.
"The week after we broke up."
Damien nodded slowly, expression unreadable.
"And you didn't… consider anything else?"
Aria stiffened.
"Do you mean abortion?"
He exhaled sharply. "I shouldn't have asked it like that. I just—"
His voice grew quieter. "I don't know what you were going through."
Aria folded her hands tightly in her lap.
"It wasn't even a question for me," she admitted.
"Even when I was terrified, and angry, and alone. The moment I knew he existed… I wanted him."
Something shattered in Damien's eyes.
"And I wasn't there," he said softly.
"No," Aria whispered.
"You weren't."
A heavy silence spread between them.
Damien looked down at his hands, then back at her.
"I wish I could change it."
Her throat tightened.
"Me too," she whispered.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, trying to piece together something neither of them could completely rebuild.
"What about your family?" Damien asked quietly.
"Do they know about me? About him?"
She shook her head.
"No. They think Eli's father left before I could tell him. I didn't… I couldn't explain the truth."
He flinched.
"Because you were protecting me."
"No," she corrected softly.
"I was protecting myself."
Damien sat back, absorbing that.
"And what about you?" Aria asked suddenly.
"Does your family know?"
He hesitated.
"My parents know I met someone three years ago," he said slowly.
"They don't know I lost her. And they definitely don't know I have a son."
Aria absorbed that in silence.
Damien exhaled.
"They're going to want to meet him."
Her heart pounded.
"Damien—"
"Not now," he said quickly.
"Not anytime soon. I know that's too much. I just… wanted to be honest."
Aria nodded gently.
Honesty.
This—right here—was new.
And it scared her more than anything.
"Aria," Damien said after a long moment, "what do you want from me? Right now. Today. What do you need?"
She blinked, startled by the sincerity in his voice.
"I…"
She looked away, breath unsteady.
"I need consistency. I need you to keep showing up—not just physically, but emotionally. I need you to understand that Eli is not a project. He's not a phase. He's not something that fits between your calendar meetings."
Damien swallowed.
"I know."
"And I need," she whispered, voice shaking, "for you not to make promises you won't keep."
Damien's jaw tightened with determination.
"I won't break my word," he said.
"Not anymore."
Aria let out a shaky breath.
"And what about you?" she asked quietly.
"What do you need from me?"
He didn't hesitate.
"Patience."
She blinked.
"And a chance," Damien added.
"To become the man you needed three years ago."
The silence that wrapped around them was fragile, intimate, and full of shifting possibilities.
Then a soft voice came from the hallway.
"Mommy?" Eli called sleepily.
Aria stood.
Damien did too.
They both turned toward the small boy rubbing his eyes—half awake, hair messy from the pillow.
The moment was simple.
Ordinary.
But something in it felt profound.
A new rhythm.
A new reality.
A new beginning.
Damien glanced at Aria.
She met his eyes.
And neither one looked away.