Chapter 228 OURS TO OWN.

Chapter 228 OURS TO OWN.
\~~~SERENA.

The heavy front door clicked shut behind us, locking out the noise of the city.

I dropped my bag onto the entryway table and let out a long breath that felt like it had been trapped in my lungs for a week. 

The house smelled like home… so clean, quiet, and completely safe. 

Before I could even kick off my shoes, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, lifting me slightly off the floor before setting me down gently. 

“Hey,” Damien whispered, resting his chin on my shoulder. “Welcome home, Mrs. Hale.”

I turned around in his arms, smiling as I looked up at him. He had finally showered, changed into a soft gray sweater, and shaved off the stubble from the night before. He looked less like a battle-hardened tactical commander and more like the husband I actually got to keep. 

“It feels good,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his neck. “I thought I’d never see this kitchen again.”

“You’re never getting rid of me or this kitchen,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. 

We walked into the living room, kicking our shoes off, and collapsed onto the oversized couch. I curled my legs up under me, leaning my head against his shoulder. The sun was streaming warmly through the tall glass windows, casting a golden glow across the hardwood floor. 

It was quiet. It was peaceful. And for the first time in forever, my mind wasn't racing with fear. 

Earlier this morning, Damien had finally played me the audio recording about my father. I had listened to every single cold, and hateful word my father had spoken, and heard him plot to bury his own daughter alive just to settle a decades-old grudge. 

It hurts, yes. But sitting here now, I realized the grief was already fading into numbness. The man who tried to destroy me wasn't my father. He was just a stranger who happened to share my blood. The real James Evans was a ghost I had buried. I was free. 

“You know,” I said, breaking the quiet as I poked Damien’s arm, “we survived. The hospital is safe, that man is locked in a box, and we are sitting on our couch.”

“We are,” Damien agreed, smiling faintly as he pulled me closer. 

“I think we need to celebrate,” I announced, sitting up straight and looking at him with bright eyes. “We need to host a gathering. Just a small one.”

Damien raised an eyebrow. “A gathering? You just got out of the hospital, moonlight.”

“I’m fine, I promise! Besides, we need this,” I insisted, ticking them off on my fingers. “We have to invite Ethan and Melissa. They saved our lives with that ridiculous, brilliant tech magic. And Maya. She stood by my hospital bed while the world was ending.”

“Sounds like a solid guest list,” Damien said, nodding. “Three people.”

“Exactly. Just our inner circle. The people who actually know the truth and didn't run away,” I smiled, leaning back against him. “We can order pizza, open some sparkling cider, since I am officially banned from wine now… and just breathe.”

Damien was quiet for a second. He played with a strand of my hair, wrapping it lazily around his finger before speaking. 

“And your mother.”

I froze. 

The bright, bubbly mood in the room popped like a soap bubble. I pulled back from his shoulder, staring at him as if he had spoken in a foreign language. 

“My mother?” I echoed, my voice flat. “Why on earth would we do that?”

Damien didn't flinch. He just held my gaze, his dark eyes steady and calm. “Because she is your mother, Serena.”

“Damien, she spent this entire time pretending she didn't see what my father was doing!” I shot back, a sudden spike of heat rising in my chest. “She watched him control every breath I took and she just looked away! Why would I invite her to celebrate our new life?”

“Because people change, and sometimes they wake up,” Damien said softly, shifting so he was facing me fully. “She’s not the woman she was a week ago. She knows everything now. She knows what James really is.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, looking away toward the window. “How do you know that?”

“She called me a few days back,” Damien admitted quietly. “She wanted to meet up. She said she needed to apologize, and she wanted to make things right with you. I was too busy dealing with James to grant the meeting then, but… she’s trying, Serena.”

I stared at the coffee table, a knot tightening in my stomach. “I don't know if I'm ready for that, Damien. It’s a lot.”

Damien reached out, gently taking my hand and uncurling my tight fingers, lacing his fingers through mine. 

“You don’t have to decide today,” he said, his voice dropping into that warm, steady tone that always managed to anchor me. “I’m not forcing you. But she called me, worried sick about you. She realizes the monster she was married to. I think… beneath all that fear, she loves you. She just didn't have the strength to fight him back then.”

I let out a shaky breath, looking back into his eyes. The anger slowly drained out of me, replaced by a quiet exhaustion. 

“Did she sound sincere?” I asked softly. 

“She sounded like a mother who realized she almost lost her daughter to a madman,” Damien answered honestly. “I’ll leave it up to you. But I think she deserves a chance to be better.”

I chewed on my lower lip, thinking about it. A few days ago, the idea would have made me want to scream. But sitting here now, carrying a new life inside me, the anger felt heavy and useless. 

“Fine,” I muttered, rolling my eyes with a small, reluctant sigh. “We can talk about it. But if she starts acting dramatic, I won’t talk to her.”

Damien chuckled, a deep, rich sound that made my heart flutter. “Deal. If she annoys you, I will personally escort her off the property.”

“Good,” I said, leaning over and poking him hard in the chest. “Because I am pregnant, fragile, and demanding, and you have to obey me.”

Damien caught my finger, kissing the tip of it with a wicked grin. “Oh, is that so? Is my brilliant, fierce wife trying to boss me around?”

“Constantly,” I smiled. “You should be used to it by now.”

“I am,” he laughed, suddenly lunging forward and tickling my ribs. 

“Hey! Stop it!” I shrieked, bursting into laughter as I tried to bat his hands away, kicking my legs on the couch. “Damien! I am a recovering patient!”

“You were fine a second ago!” he teased, pinning my hands easily against the cushions while a wide, carefree smile broke across his handsome face, a smile I rarely ever saw him wear. 

“You are a monster!” I laughed breathlessly, twisting around to escape. 

“A monster who loves you,” he murmured, catching me by the waist and pulling me flat against his chest so we were both tumbling into a pile of soft couch pillows. 

We lay there for a moment, tangled in the blankets, breathing heavily. Then, slowly, Damien stopped laughing. 

He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at me. The playful light in his eyes softened into something profound and breathtakingly tender. Without a word, he very carefully slid his hand down, resting his warm palm flat against my lower stomach. 

I held my breath, watching him. 

He didn't say anything for a long, quiet second. Then, staring right down at my belly, his voice dropped to a soft, reverent whisper. 

“Hello there.”

A sudden, watery laugh escaped my throat. “It’s six weeks, Damien.”

He smiled, his dark eyes shining with quiet wonder. “I know.”

Another heavy, beautiful pause stretched between us. He leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against my stomach before looking back up into my eyes. 

“I can’t wait to meet you.”

The world outside was quiet, the storm had passed, and for the first time in our lives, our future was entirely ours to own.