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Chapter 96 – Damon's POV
"She Has to Hear Me"
I couldn't keep watching her like this.
The way she moved—slow, distant, like her soul had drifted somewhere far away. The way her eyes never truly focused. The way her laughter, once the light of this home, had gone silent for far too long.
I had hurt her.
But now… she was hurting herself.
And our child.
And I couldn't stay quiet anymore.
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I waited until Liam was in his room, the house was quiet, and Arya was curled on the couch again, legs tucked under her and a blanket around her shoulders. Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from nights of crying when she thought no one noticed.
She hadn't eaten a full meal in days. She barely spoke. Her already small frame looked more fragile than ever.
And she was carrying our baby.
My child.
Our future.
And if I didn't do something now, I was terrified I'd lose both.
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I sat across from her, not too close, but close enough.
She didn't look at me. Not right away.
But her eyes flicked to me, briefly, before drifting back to the empty windowpane.
"I know you don't want to see me," I began quietly. "I know you said you're not ready."
She didn't interrupt. Didn't nod. Just listened.
That was enough.
"I've been trying to give you space… to let you heal without crowding you. But Arya, I can't stay silent anymore. Not when I see you like this. Not when it's starting to affect the baby."
At that, her fingers clenched slightly into the blanket.
Still no words.
But I saw the shift. The guilt. The fear. The truth sinking in.
"Your doctor said stress is dangerous, Arya. She said what you're going through… it's not good. You've lost weight. You haven't smiled in weeks. And every time you walk past me like I don't exist, something in me dies a little."
I leaned forward, voice shaking.
"I didn't cheat. I swear on everything I love, I didn't. But I did something just as bad—I kept the truth from you. I didn't tell you that Sophia came back because I thought I could handle it alone. Because I thought telling you would make you feel unsafe, and I never want to be the reason you're afraid again."
Her lips trembled, and for the first time, she turned her face fully toward me.
Tears clung to her lashes.
"I wasn't trying to betray your trust," I continued softly. "I was trying to protect it. But keeping secrets, even with good intentions… is still lying."
Her chest rose and fell quickly.
I stood slowly, crossed the small space between us, and knelt in front of her.
"I'm sorry, Arya. I'm sorry for every single moment you felt alone in this. I'm sorry that my hesitation gave Sophia a door to walk through. I'm sorry I ever let her near you, even from a distance."
I took her cold, hesitant hand in mine.
She didn't pull away.
"I sent her out of the country," I said. "I gave her no choice. She's gone, Arya. For good. And if she ever tries to come back, I'll make sure she never touches this life again. I swear to you."
A small sound escaped her lips. Not quite a sob. Not quite a sigh.
Just… breath.
A breath she hadn't been able to take since the photos came.
"You should've told me," she whispered finally, voice hoarse. "I could've handled it. I would've felt safer knowing."
"I know," I said, guilt thick in my throat. "And I'll never make that mistake again."
She looked at me, eyes swimming with pain and something deeper—conflict. She wasn't healed. Not yet. But she was hearing me.
And that was the start.
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"I miss you," I whispered. "I miss the way you laugh when Liam tells a bad joke. I miss the way you wake me up at 2 a.m. for pineapple slices dipped in chocolate. I miss the way you used to grab my hand when we walked down the hallway like I might disappear."
Her lips parted.
"You're not alone, Arya. Not now. Not ever again."
She looked down at her belly, one hand drifting over it.
Then she looked at me. Really looked.
"I don't know if I can fully forgive you yet."
"You don't have to," I said. "I'll wait."
She exhaled slowly. "But I don't want to keep hurting this baby either."
I nodded. "Let me help. Let me take care of you both."
A long pause stretched between us.
Then, slowly… she nodded.
Not a promise of everything being okay.
But an opening.
A beginning.
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That night, she let me make her dinner.
She didn't eat much—but she ate.
She let me rub her back when the nausea hit later.
She didn't smile.
But when I kissed her forehead before leaving her to sleep, she didn't flinch.
And in the stillness of the dark, I felt the tiniest bit of her come back.
Piece by piece.
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End of Chapter 96 – Damon's POV