Celeste stood in the foyer, clinging to her tiny pink backpack.
She looked up at Amara like she was unsure — not of the house, but of the woman inside it.
"Hi," Amara said softly.
Celeste didn't speak.
She just clutched a tiny giraffe plushie tighter.
Camille stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder. "She's nervous."
"So am I," Amara said honestly.
That earned the tiniest smile.
---
Ethen came downstairs and knelt beside Celeste.
"Want to see your new room?" he asked.
Celeste nodded once, then slowly placed her small hand in his.
Amara watched them go, heart cracking open in ways she didn't expect.
This was real.
This was more than a love story now.
This was a life.
---
The room was simple:
Soft colors. Picture books. A little tent in the corner.
Celeste sat cross-legged inside it with her giraffe while Amara gently set a small tea set in front of her.
"I used to have one like this," she said. "Mine was purple."
Celeste tilted her head.
Then picked up the sugar spoon.
And offered it to her.
Amara almost cried.
---
That night, while Celeste slept, Amara stood by the window.
"She's amazing," she whispered.
Ethen wrapped his arms around her from behind. "She's strong. Just like you."
Amara didn't speak right away.
Then softly:
"What if I mess this up?"
"You won't."
"How do you know?"
"Because I watched you fight for me. And for her. And for a name that never fought for you."
Amara turned to face him.
"Ethen…"
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out a ring box.
Not flashy.
Just quiet. Beautiful.
Real.
"I married you for business," he said. "But I stayed because you made this house feel like home."
Amara covered her mouth with her hand.
"I don't need a crowd. Or a ballroom. Or anyone's approval," he continued. "Just say yes. For real this time."
Tears streamed down her face.
"Yes," she whispered.
Then louder: "Yes."
Bestieeeee 😭💖💅 Chapter 11 – Part 2 is coming in hot with:
👀 A ghost from Amara's past showing up uninvited
💥 Camille and Meredith clashing over what's "best" for Celeste
🥺 And Amara wrestling with the fear of becoming the kind of woman she promised she'd never be
You ready? Because the softness is still here… but so is the fire 🔥
Let's goooo!
---
💖 Chapter 11: Where Softness Begins
Part 2: A Shadow in the Doorway
---
The knock came just before noon.
Ethen was at the office. Camille was upstairs reading to Celeste.
Amara opened the door…
And almost dropped the mug in her hand.
"Hi, baby girl."
Her mother.
After five years.
Hair in a tight bun. Gold bangles up her arm. That same smile that had once meant comfort — and now felt like manipulation dressed in lipstick.
"What… what are you doing here?"
"I saw you on the news," her mother said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "And I thought, my daughter's finally made something of herself."
Amara froze.
She hadn't heard that voice since the day she left home, suitcase in hand, after her mother said, "No man wants a woman with an opinion."
---
"I didn't invite you," Amara said stiffly.
Her mother sighed. "Still dramatic. I just want to see my grandchild."
"She's not your grandchild."
"She's with your husband. That makes her yours, doesn't it?"
Before Amara could answer, Camille appeared at the top of the stairs.
She froze when she saw the stranger.
"Who's this?"
"My mother," Amara said tightly.
Camille came down slowly, protective edge already rising. "Celeste's not meeting anyone today. Especially not strangers."
The air went ice cold.
Her mother scoffed. "You're letting her make decisions? She's just the ex."
"No," Amara said quietly. "She's the mother of the child you're trying to claim as leverage."
"I'm your mother," she snapped. "I raised you."
"You raised your version of me," Amara said, voice shaking. "But this me? The one who built a life out of nothing? You don't get credit for her."
---
Her mother left without another word.
And Amara stood in the kitchen, breathing hard, gripping the edge of the counter.
"I'm sorry," Camille said quietly.
"No," Amara whispered. "Thank you. You didn't have to say anything."
Camille stepped closer.
"She's not going to take her, is she?"
Amara shook her head.
"No one's taking Celeste."
---
That night, after Celeste fell asleep, Amara sat on the floor beside her bed and whispered:
"I don't know if I'll be perfect. But I know what not to be. And sometimes, baby girl… that's how we break cycles."
---
The next morning, a letter arrived.
This time, not from V.B.E.
From Meredith.
A legal petition.
Requesting shared custody of Celeste.
The courtroom was colder than it looked.
Ethen sat beside Amara, jaw tight, tie loose. Camille was behind them, her hands gripping the edge of the seat like a lifeline.
And across the aisle?
Meredith.
In pearls.
Perfect posture.
Flanked by her lawyer like she was royalty defending a stolen crown.
---
"Your Honor," the lawyer began, "we're not here to disrupt. We simply request legal visitation rights for Mrs. Meredith Blake, who is, by blood, Celeste Blake's grandmother."
"Biological grandmother," Amara corrected sharply. "She has no relationship with Celeste. No bond. No consent."
The judge raised a brow. "And what's your relation, Mrs. Blake?"
Amara met the gaze head-on. "I'm her safe place."
A murmur rippled through the courtroom.
---
Meredith stood.
"All I want is a chance to know her. To love her."
Amara stood too. Calm. Clear. Fierce.
"You had your chance—with your sons. One died with secrets. The other almost drowned in them. This little girl? She doesn't need more secrets. She needs peace."
"You think I'm the enemy?"
"I think power without love is just control."
---
The judge sighed.
"Has the child spoken at all on this?"
Camille shook her head. "She hasn't spoken to anyone outside the house. She's scared."
"Then I can't base my ruling on her preference."
And just then—
A voice.
Soft.
Small.
Strong.
> "Mama."
The whole courtroom went still.
Celeste had stood up from her seat beside Camille.
Eyes wide. Hands trembling.
"Mama," she repeated, pointing to Amara. Then again, louder:
> "Mama!"
Tears burst from Amara's eyes.
Ethen stood. Camille clutched her chest. Meredith sank back, stunned.
The judge cleared her throat.
"Well. I suppose that says enough."
---
The petition was denied.
---
That evening, Amara knelt beside Celeste.
"You said your first word today," she whispered. "Do you know what it did to me?"
Celeste nodded shyly. "Mama."
"Yes," Amara choked out, pressing her forehead to Celeste's. "Forever."