Chapter 35 Chapter 35
That night, Savannah could not sleep. She lay on the bed, her hand on her stomach, her eyes staring at the ceiling. The sound of the baby’s heartbeat kept echoing in her mind. It was strong, steady, alive.
For the first time, she felt a small flicker of hope. But along with hope came fear.
She turned on her side, hugging her pillow. Adrian’s words from earlier played in her head. You have me. I won’t let you go through this alone.
Her chest tightened. No one had ever said such words to her before. Not Nathaniel, not anyone. All her life she had carried pain alone. And now, suddenly, this man had walked into her storm and was holding an umbrella over her head. Why?
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t believe him,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t be a fool again.”
But no matter how much she told herself, her heart beat faster every time she remembered the way Adrian looked at her in the hospital — like she mattered, like her baby mattered.
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The next morning, Savannah dragged herself to the kitchen. Adrian was already gone, but he had left food on the table. A small note rested on the plate: Eat well. For the baby.
Her lips trembled as she read it. She sat down, tears filling her eyes. The last time someone left her a note, it was Nathaniel — a cruel message telling her she was useless. Now here was Adrian, a man who owed her nothing, yet he cared.
She pushed the plate away and buried her face in her hands. She was scared. Scared of feeling safe. Scared of opening her heart. Scared that if she trusted him, he would break her the way Nathaniel did.
“Don’t fall for it,” she whispered. “Don’t fall again.”
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Later that day, she stood by the window, watching children run and play in the street. Their laughter reached her ears, filling her chest with both joy and sorrow.
She touched her stomach gently. “Will you laugh like that one day? Will you run free, without fear? I promise you… I’ll make sure you do.”
Her voice cracked, but determination burned inside her. She would not let her child suffer. She would work, she would fight, she would do anything to protect this little life.
But then Adrian’s face appeared in her mind again. His firm eyes. His gentle voice. His strength.
She hated that she thought of him. She hated that part of her wanted to lean on him, to rest, to believe his promise.
\---
That evening, Adrian returned. He carried grocery bags, moving around the kitchen like he owned the place. Savannah watched him quietly, her heart pounding.
“You didn’t have to,” she said softly.
He looked up at her, his face calm. “Yes, I did. You need food. The baby needs food.”
She bit her lip. “Adrian… why are you doing all this?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer. He placed the bags down slowly and turned to her. His eyes locked on hers, deep and unreadable.
“Because someone has to,” he said at last. “Because you deserve care, Savannah.”
Her breath caught. She turned away quickly, her cheeks hot. She didn’t want him to see her weakness.
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That night, when she lay in bed, her heart was restless again. She wanted to ask him why he looked at her that way. She wanted to know why he treated her as if she was more than just a woman with a broken past. But fear chained her words.
Instead, she whispered to the baby inside her. “We don’t need him. We don’t need anyone. It’s just us. Remember that.”
But deep down, she knew she was lying to herself.
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Days passed, and Adrian kept checking on her. He brought food, medicine, even baby clothes. He never explained himself, and she never asked again. But every time he showed up, Savannah’s walls shook a little more.
At night, she dreamed of Nathaniel — his cruel face, his harsh words, his betrayal. She would wake up sweating, clutching her stomach, afraid the past would repeat itself.
One night after such a dream, she sat by the window, hugging her knees. The city was quiet, but inside her, storms raged.
“What if Adrian is like Nathaniel?” she whispered. “What if he leaves me too? What if he changes once he knows everything?”
Her tears fell freely. She felt trapped between two fires — her fear of trusting again and her need for help.
The baby kicked gently, and she smiled through her tears. “At least I have you. You’re my reason to keep breathing.”
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Meanwhile, in his own home, Adrian lay awake too. He thought about Savannah, about her pain, about the walls she built around herself. He wanted to tell her everything, to tell her she wasn’t alone, that she deserved happiness, that he… he was beginning to care too much.
But he clenched his fists. He couldn’t tell her yet. Not now. She was too fragile.
So he whispered into the night, “I’ll wait. I’ll prove it with actions, not words.”
And though they were apart, in different rooms, their hearts carried the same restless storm.