CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FORTEEN

CHAPTER TWO HUNDRED AND FORTEEN
BRIELLE
The cursor on my screen blinked steadily, mocking me with its patience. I had been staring at the same paragraph for what felt like an eternity, the words refusing to flow the way they had yesterday. My fingers hovered over the keys, but my mind kept drifting back to the same place it had been stuck since that shopping trip with Aria…the phone calls from my father.
Why was he calling? Why now?
The question looped in my head like a bad song I couldn’t turn off. Almost a year of complete silence after the Thanksgiving disaster and everything that followed. No messages. No attempts to reach out. Just… nothing. And now, three calls in the last few days. No voicemails. No explanations. Just the ringing. Persistent and quiet.. Like he knew exactly how to rattle me without saying a single extra word.
I leaned back against the mountain of pillows Damien had arranged around me, my hand resting on my belly out of habit. The room felt smaller today, even with the city skyline stretching out beyond the windows. Damien wasn’t home
The penthouse felt strangely empty without him. He had left about an hour ago to run some errands… groceries, a few things for the nursery, and whatever else he thought I might need during this endless stretch of bed rest. He had kissed me goodbye with that intense, worried look in his eyes, promising he’d be back soon and reminding me to text him if anything felt even slightly off. I had rolled my eyes and told him I’d be fine, but the truth was, the silence after he left had settled over the apartment like a heavy blanket. My book was doing well…Tasha’s updates had been positive but even that success felt distant, overshadowed by the shadow my father had cast again.
What does he want? Closure? Forgiveness? Or is this just another game?
The thought made my chest tight. I hated that after everything…the blackmail, the lies about Damien’s parents, the way he had treated me like a pawn for years — some stupid, broken part of me still wondered if there was any chance he was sorry. . And then I hated myself for wondering. I had built a life with Damien. I had a book that was touching people. I had a daughter growing strong inside me. I didn’t need him. I shouldn’t need him.
But the calls kept coming.
I sighed, closing the laptop for a moment and rubbing my temples. The ache in my lower back was persistent today, a dull throb that no amount of pillows seemed to fix completely. Bed rest was supposed to be peaceful, but it gave my mind too much time to wander into places I didn’t want to go.
Why now? After all this time? What does he want?
The phone on the tray table buzzed again.
I glanced down, my stomach dropping when I saw the name on the screen.
Dad.
This was the third time he’d be calling me today alone. I gulped, staring at the screen for a long second. My thumb hovered over the decline button. 
I took a deep breath then ignored the call..again
I picked up my laptop again, trying to force myself back into the story. The heroine was supposed to be strong, choosing her own path despite the ghosts of her past. But the words wouldn’t come. Every sentence felt forced, every line tainted by the shadow of my father’s call. I deleted a paragraph, rewrote it, then deleted it again. 
Why now? After almost a year? What does he want? Closure? Forgiveness? Or is this just another game?
My phone sat on the tray table, silent now, but the missed call notification glowed on the screen like an accusation. I picked it up again, thumb hovering over Damien’s name. He would know what to say. He would tell me I was doing the right thing by ignoring it. He would hold me and make me feel safe.
But I didn’t call him. Instead, I scrolled to Aria’s name and pressed call. She answered on the second ring, her voice bright and teasing as always.
“Hey you, mother-to-be! How’s the royal bed rest going? Are you living your best pillow-fort life or has Damien turned the penthouse into a maximum-security pregnancy prison yet?”
I laughed despite myself, the sound a little shaky. “A bit of both. He’s been refilling my fruit bowl every hour like I’m a delicate plant that might wilt. It’s sweet but I’m going a little crazy.”
Aria’s tone shifted immediately, the joking fading into concern. “You sound off. What happened? Spill. Is it the baby? The book? Or is Damien being extra Damien again?”
I let out a long breath, rubbing my belly absentmindedly. “It’s my father. He called again today. No messages. Just the ringing. I ignored it, but… it’s messing with my head, Aria. Why now? After almost a year of nothing? What does he want?”
There was a pause on the other end. Aria’s voice softened. “Have you picked up once?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I told him no the first time. I meant it. But he keeps calling. And I keep wondering if I should just… hear him out. Or if that’s the stupidest idea in the world.”
Aria was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Okay. First, breathe. You don’t have to decide anything right now. But tell me… what do you want to do? Not what Damien wants. Not what you think you ‘should’ do. What do you want?”
I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat. “Honestly… I don’t know. I just feel… torn. Part of me is so angry. He blackmailed Damien. He lied about his parents. He treated me like a pawn for years. I don’t owe him anything. But another part of me…this stupid, broken part — still wonders if he’s sorry.”
“Listen to me, Brielle,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “You do what you want to do. If you want to hear him out, fine. If you want to ignore him forever, fine. If you want to block his number and never think about him again, that’s also fine. This isn’t about what Damien thinks is safe. This isn’t about what the ‘right’ thing is. This is about you. Your peace. Your healing. Your future with that beautiful baby girl you’re carrying. You’ve worked so hard to build a life that feels good…the book, Damien, this family you’re creating. Don’t let him take that away from you just because he decided to call after a year of silence. But if talking to him is what you need to close that chapter for good, then do it on your terms. Not his. Not Damien’s. Yours. You’re stronger than you think, Brielle. You walked away from him once. You can do it again if you need to. Or you can listen if that’s what your heart needs. Either way, I’m here. Damien’s here. You’re not alone in this.”
Her words settled over me like a warm blanket, easing some of the tightness in my chest. I let out a shaky breath, wiping my eyes.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I needed that. I don’t know what I want yet, but… talking to you helps.”
“Anytime,” Aria said, her voice lightening again. “Now go eat some fruit before Damien comes back and finds you crying over your laptop. And text me if you need me to come over and distract you with more ridiculous baby clothes shopping stories.”
I laughed, the sound a little watery but real. “I will. Love you.”
“Love you more, mama. Take care of yourself.”
The call ended, and I set the phone down, feeling a little lighter. The father’s calls still lingered, but Aria’s words gave me space to breathe. I picked up my laptop again, the cursor blinking patiently on the screen.
The heroine was waiting. And so was I.