The rain had started sometime in the early hours, a soft drizzle that misted the windows and blanketed Brooks Ville in gray silence. Inside the apartment, everything felt still too still.
Jeremy sat at the dining table, turning a chipped mug of coffee in his hands. He had barely slept. The tension that had hung in the air after Noah's departure the night before hadn't lifted. And now, with Hassan leaving too, the place felt like it was slowly unraveling.
From the hallway came the sound of Steph moving quiet, slow. He turned slightly as she entered the kitchen, wrapped in an oversized hoodie, her hair uncombed, eyes swollen from another sleepless night.
"He's leaving today," she said softly.
Jeremy gave a faint nod. "Yeah. And Noah's already gone."
She moved past him without a word and began fumbling with the kettle. The silence between them wasn't strained. It was familiar, two people trying to find the ground beneath them when everything felt like it was shifting.
"Have you talked to him?" she asked.
"Hassan?"
She nodded.
Jeremy sighed. "He stopped by late last night. Said thank you. Apologized. Packed quietly. Didn't say much else."
Steph bit her lip. "He asked to see me. Café, ten o'clock."
Jeremy hesitated. "Are you going?"
She looked up, eyes uncertain. "I think I have to."
He gave her a gentle nod. "Then go."
The kettle began to hiss behind them. Steph didn't move.
"And Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for… just being here."
His gaze softened. "You don't need to thank me, Steph. This is your home too."
---
The café was nearly empty when she arrived. Hassan was already there, his duffel bag by his feet, a hoodie pulled low over his brow. He looked up the moment she stepped in. No smile. No wave. Just quiet recognition.
She slid into the seat across from him.
Neither spoke for a long moment.
"I didn't think you'd come," Hassan said eventually.
"I almost didn't," she admitted.
Another beat of silence.
"I'm not good at goodbyes," he murmured.
"Then don't say it," she said quickly. "Just say whatever's on your mind."
Hassan nodded slowly. "I love you. I just… I need to go. I need to find my place. I've always felt like I was surviving here. Now, for once, I have a chance to live."
Steph blinked hard. "And I want that for you. I do. Even if it breaks me a little."
He reached across the table, fingers brushing hers. "You made me feel like I could be more. Like I wasn't broken."
Her lips trembled. "Then go prove it."
He stood. She did too.
No hug. No kiss. Just two people holding onto a moment that had already started to slip.
"I'll write," he said.
"You better," she whispered.
And he was gone.
---
A week passed. Then two.
The apartment was quieter than ever. Noah had flown to be with his mother and half-sister, helping with her recovery. Jeremy was doing his best to keep everything normal cooking, working, staying calm but something in Steph had begun to shift.
She was sleeping more, eating less. And the nausea first in the mornings, then creeping in randomly was impossible to ignore.
It wasn't until she stood in the tiny pharmacy aisle, hands shaking as she stared down at the pregnancy test box, that the truth she'd been avoiding finally caught up with her.
Two lines.
Bold. Undeniable.
She sat on the bathroom floor of their apartment that evening, test in hand, chest heaving with sobs she could no longer contain.
There was no Aliyah yet.
Only the possibility of her.
Only a heartbeat Steph hadn't known she'd been carrying.
And Hassan was thousands of miles away.