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Chapter 99 – Arya's POV
"The Wall Finally Cracked"
It wasn't one grand moment that changed everything.
It wasn't a bouquet of roses or a perfect speech.
It was the little things.
Like the way Damon always remembered to place an extra pillow behind my back without being asked. How he knew exactly when I needed silence, and when I needed to be pulled into his arms and reminded that I wasn't alone.
It was how he started speaking more gently, moving more slowly around me—as though he finally understood that pregnancy wasn't just a physical change but an emotional storm I couldn't control.
It was the way he stayed.
Even after all the walls I'd built. Even after I told him over and over that I didn't trust him—couldn't trust him. That I was afraid.
He stayed.
And slowly… painfully… my heart started to soften.
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Today was one of those days when my body felt heavy. I couldn't explain it—nothing specific hurt, yet everything ached. I waddled around the house, feeling like I'd aged thirty years overnight.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and sighed. My skin was pale. My face looked puffy. My belly stretched my shirt in every direction.
I ran my fingers over the faint silver lines forming on my hips and stomach.
Stretch marks.
Proof that something was growing. That life was happening.
Still, part of me frowned. I didn't feel beautiful. I felt tired.
And then—almost like he could sense it—Damon appeared in the doorway, holding a glass of mango juice with ice cubes clinking inside.
"You didn't ask for this," he said softly, "but I know you crave it in the afternoons."
I looked at the glass, then at him. That same calmness in his eyes. That quiet way he studied me—not with judgment or pity—but with love.
He held out the glass and smiled. "Come sit."
I took it and followed him to the living room. He had set everything up—pillows, blankets, my favorite fuzzy socks. Even the scented candle I liked had been lit.
I sank into the couch slowly, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
Damon sat beside me, but not too close. He didn't crowd me. He never did that anymore. He waited—patiently—until I leaned into him.
And I did.
For the first time in weeks, I rested my head against his chest and felt… safe.
"I've been thinking," he said quietly, rubbing slow circles on my arm, "about how badly I messed up before."
I didn't answer.
"I don't expect you to forget everything. I just want you to know—I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."
I closed my eyes, the warmth of his body seeping into mine. I thought about all the nights I'd cried alone, how many times I'd sworn never to love him again… and yet here I was. In his arms. Letting myself breathe again.
"I know," I whispered.
He stiffened a little. "You know what?"
"That you're here. That you've changed."
His fingers froze.
"And I believe you," I added, voice barely above a whisper.
Silence settled over us.
Then he turned his head, pressing a kiss into my hair, his breath shaky.
"I love you, Arya."
I tilted my head up and looked at him.
His eyes weren't just full of love.
They were full of fear. Like he didn't think he deserved to hear those words back.
But he did.
Because somewhere between the quiet mornings and late-night talks… I fell again.
And this time, I didn't fight it.
"I love you too," I said.
His eyes widened just slightly, and then he smiled—a real one, the kind that softened his whole face.
I reached up, cupping his cheek, and whispered, "I trust you."
---
We stayed there for hours.
Talking. Laughing. Letting the silence wrap around us without it feeling awkward or tense.
Damon eventually pulled out a notebook he'd been hiding.
"What's that?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I've been writing names down."
"For the baby?"
He nodded sheepishly. "You don't have to read them. They're probably terrible. I just wanted to… I don't know, be involved."
I took the notebook, heart squeezing.
Inside were messy scribbles—some names crossed out, some underlined, a few with little stars next to them.
One of them had a heart beside it. Aurelia.
"She's going to be so loved," I said, touching my belly.
"She already is."
---
That night, I watched Damon sleep.
His hand rested protectively on my stomach, even in sleep.
His brows were furrowed, like he was dreaming something serious. I reached out and brushed a strand of hair off his forehead.
He had flaws. Deep ones.
But he was trying. Every day, every hour.
And I knew now—I didn't need perfection.
I just needed honesty. Effort. A heart that stayed even when mine couldn't trust.
Damon had given me all three.
So yes, I trusted him.
Fully.
And I was ready to face whatever came next—together.
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End of Chapter 99 – Arya's POV