Eva's POV
"Eva, your seatbelt," he said, gesturing toward the harness. I reached for it, struggling to buckle it with one hand while cradling my baby. I hadn't bothered with the seatbelt before, so I wasn't inclined to concern myself with it now. "Do you need assistance?" he asked. "No, I'm fine," I replied. My father had owned a few cars like this, and I used to drive them occasionally. Unfortunately, that had made me a target for Chad. After a brief struggle, I managed to secure the seatbelt and Harrison signaled for the driver to begin. We drove for some time before arriving at an exquisite mansion. The white and brown wooden tones complemented each other perfectly. It was as large as my father's house , perhaps even grander. The moment I stepped inside, a sense of peace washed over me—the fresh air was a welcome relief. After a year of enduring the stench of alcohol and urine, this was a sanctuary. To others, it might have seemed trivial, but to me, it was a reprieve from a never-ending nightmare. I would savor it while it lasted. Who knew how long Harrison's generosity would extend? Eventually, I might end up on the streets again—or worse, back with Chad.
"The help will escort you to your room," he said, gently tapping my back. "I didn't expect you to agree to come home with me," he continued, though I was too stunned to reply. It wasn't as though I had much of a choice. "I had the staff move your baby's essentials into your room, just for the night. I didn't have time to prepare much aside from formula it's alright night fall,—though I'm not sure if it's what your baby prefers. One of the helpers just had a baby and offered to share" "Why are you doing all this?" I asked, cutting in. "You need help, and I can offer it. Don't read too much into it. Dinner will be ready in an hour, so you should freshen up," he said as he ascended the stairs. I followed the maid, who led me to a room. It was spacious, clean, and warm—much like my own room back at my father's house, only with more pink and less beige. Yet, I found it pleasant and comforting. I placed Naveen in the crib—it was almost brand new and impeccably clean. He had never had a crib before, as I couldn't afford one. I had sacrificed food, clothing, and even personal necessities for myself, just to ensure he had what he needed. There's no way I could afford a crib.
As soon as I laid Naveen down, he began to cry. My poor child wasn't accustomed to the softness of a crib; he had always slept with me, sometimes on the floor when Chad brought home company. Chad's apartment had been a cramped one-bedroom space—small enough that I hadn't minded it at the time.because I was confident I would not be staying in it.. I tried to make the floor more comfortable, piling up clothes beneath him, though it did little to alleviate the cold. On some nights, I would place him on my chest to warm him. Still crying, I lifted him. "Come have a shower with Mommy."
After the shower, I dressed Naveen in some of Harry's old baby clothes that had been thoughtfully laid out for him. It wasn't surprising—coming from a wealthy family, it was likely they had an abundance of items tucked away, unused but preserved. Besides, Harry didn't appear much older than me, so it made sense that some of his childhood things were still around. I, too, had stored away baby items back home. If only I had the means—or the freedom—to retrieve them.
I had just finished getting dressed when a knock sounded at the door. "Come in," I called. It was Harrison. I was wearing a robe, one that didn't do much to conceal the bruises that mapped across my body—some old, others painfully fresh. He approached slowly, standing close enough that I could see the tension in his throat as he swallowed, his gaze drifting over every mark, every inch of exposed skin. That's when it clicked—this kindness, this generosity, surely it came with a price. I knew the pattern all too well.
And if this was what it took to keep a roof over our heads, I was prepared to give it. Without hesitation, it couldn't be worse than what Chad has done to my body in the course of our marriage. I let the robe slip from my shoulders, revealing everything beneath. His reaction was instant—shock flickered in his eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked, stunned, his eyes wide. "I know this is what you want," I replied, my voice steady, unashamed. "I don't expect your kindness for nothing. If this is the cost, then take it."
"Jesus Christ, Eva," he muttered, quickly picking up the robe and wrapping it back around me. "Put your clothes on.", I felt the heat of shame rise to my cheeks.
"You're bruised," he said, his tone softer now. "You're probably in pain after everything you've been through today. I'm not going to take advantage of you."
I stood in silence.then I found words. "why are you helping me" he took a few steps back. " you remind me of someone very dear to me" he took another step back reaching the door.
"I came to tell you the doctor has arrived. If you're comfortable, he can come in now," he added. Then, before stepping out, he turned back and said, "Next time you try something like that, at least wait until your child is asleep." And with that, he left shutting the door behind him.