Aria's POV
"Push!"
"No…wait…it hurts…I can't…!"
"Yes, you can! Just one more! He's almost here!"
I clenched the sides of the bed, fingers slipping on sweat-damp sheets as another contraction crashed through me like a tidal wave. My body twisted, a ragged scream ripping out of my throat.
Outside, lightning cracked like it was answering me.
The storm had rolled in fast. Thunder growled low and close, and wind slapped against the windows of the cottage, rattling them in their frames like impatient fists. The entire world felt like it was tearing open with me.
"Aaaahhhhh." I screamed again…not from fear, not from sorrow.
From the truth.
The brutal, raw truth of becoming something more than I was five minutes ago.
"Almost there, Aria," Marla said firmly, wiping sweat from my forehead. "You're doing beautifully. Just one more push."
"Godmmm" I panted, chest heaving. "I can't…Marla, I can't…!"
"You can," Elias said from the foot of the bed, his voice tight, but calm. "You're stronger than you know. Just a little more, okay?"
I barely saw him through the haze of pain, but his voice anchored me like a rope in a storm. His hand gripped mine. Steady. Fierce.
"Okay," I whispered. "Okay…"
I pushed.
With every ounce of pain.
With every drop of betrayal.
With every scream I had ever swallowed back.
And then…
A cry.
A sharp, wet cry that shattered the room like it had been waiting to be heard all its life.
I collapsed back onto the sweat-soaked pillow, gasping for air as tears poured down my cheeks.
"Is he…?" I whispered.
Marla smiled, cradling a tiny, red, wailing bundle in her arms. "He's perfect."
She placed him gently on my chest, still slick and wriggling, still screaming like the world owed him answers.
I stared down at him, trembling.
My son.
My boy.
My miracle.
He was warm. Heavy in the smallest way. Like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.
His skin was soft, damp, alive.
His mouth opened and closed like he was searching.
His eyes blinked up at me, barely open, but so real. So there.
"Hi," I breathed, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "Hi, baby…"
"He's beautiful." Marla whispered, wiping him gently with a warm cloth.
"He's mine." I breathed.
Two words. But they held everything.
No sterile hospital rooms.
No Sinclair logos stamped on documents.
No Damien barging in with doubt in his eyes and cold in his voice.
Just me.
Just him.
Just this sacred moment between a woman and the soul she'd brought into the world.
"He has your nose," Elias said, standing back but watching with something like awe in his eyes. "And… Damien's jawline."
I stiffened.
My eyes stayed on the baby.
"I know," I said quietly. "But that's where it ends."
Elias nodded. "You don't have to explain. I get it."
I did want to explain, though. Just not now. Not while Leo was curled up against me like he'd been waiting his whole life for this hug.
Tiny fists.
Wet lashes.
Furious lungs.
He was perfect.
And he had no idea he'd just been born into a storm.
"What's his name?" Marla asked gently as she bundled him in a soft white blanket.
I looked at him for a long time, searching his face, even though I already knew.
There was no hesitation.
No back and forth.
No flicker of doubt.
Just a whisper that came from somewhere deep in me.
"Leo."
Marla smiled as she swayed him lightly in her arms. "Like the lion?"
"No," I said softly. "Like the light."
Something passed in Marla's expression…understanding. Maybe respect. Maybe grief. Maybe both.
She didn't ask what I meant.
She didn't need to.
Because Leo had just become the one thing Damien couldn't question, reject, manipulate, or ruin.
He was mine.
Completely, entirely, undeniably mine.
And when I named him…when I claimed him with that simple syllable…the storm outside began to settle.
The thunder moved on.
The wind exhaled.
The rain softened to a hush.
Even the sky, it seemed, had been waiting for him.
LATER THAT NIGHT
I sat on the old rocking chair near the fireplace, the one Elias had dusted off from storage and fixed with glue and nails and prayer.
Leo slept in my arms, swaddled in soft cotton that smelled like laundry soap and new beginnings.
His breathing was slow. Steady. So peaceful it made my heart ache.
I watched the firelight flicker on his face. His tiny lips twitched in sleep, like he was dreaming already…maybe of the sound of my voice. Maybe of the safety in my arms.
"You know he looks like you when you scowl?" Elias said softly from across the room, where he sipped something hot and tried to act normal, like this moment wasn't changing everything.
I smiled faintly. "Then I feel sorry for him already."
"You shouldn't." he said. "You're going to be the best thing that ever happened to him."
I wanted to believe that.
I did.
But even now, holding this miracle in my arms, there was a heaviness I couldn't shake.
A question burning at the back of my mind like a low, quiet fire.
Would I ever tell Damien?
Not now.
Not after what he said.
Not after "That child is not mine."
The words still sliced through me like glass every time I remembered them.
But maybe someday.
Maybe Leo would grow. Maybe he'd want answers. Maybe I'd run out of places to hide.
"Are you okay?" Elias asked quietly.
I looked down at Leo.
His little hand had curled around the edge of my shirt. Like a promise. Like a grip he wouldn't let go of.
I leaned down and kissed his forehead.
"I'll protect you," I whispered. "even if I have to stay hidden forever."
SOMEWHERE ELSE - SINCLAIR TOWER
Damien stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in his penthouse, arms crossed, eyes locked on the skyline as lightning illuminated the glass towers of Manhattan.
He hadn't slept.
Not well. Not at all.
Not since Aria disappeared.
Not since the night she cried in his office and walked out of his life like she had never been in it to begin with.
He reached for his phone as it buzzed again.
A text from Ryan, his head of security.
"No trace. No location. No records of hospital visits. No property transactions. She's completely gone, boss."
Damien's jaw clenched.
His grip tightened around the phone until his knuckles turned white.
"She wouldn't disappear without a reason." he muttered under his breath.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Come in."
Miranda stepped inside like a shadow wrapped in silk.
"Still looking for your runaway bride?" she asked, folding her arms.
He didn't respond.
Didn't look at her.
Just stared at the storm like it could give him answers.
Miranda walked closer, her heels echoing against the marble floor.
"You know," she said lightly, "some women don't run because they're broken. They run because they're hiding something."
He turned then—slowly. His stare was sharp, unreadable.
"You think she was lying?"
"I think," Miranda said, smiling faintly, "you believed what you wanted to believe. And now? She's somewhere far away… living her truth without you."
She walked out, leaving silence in her wake.
Damien didn't move.
But something shifted behind his eyes.
Doubt.
Regret.
Or something darker.
BACK AT THE COTTAGE – FINAL MOMENTS
I placed Leo in the crib Elias built by hand over the last month. He'd carved a small sun into the headboard. Said it reminded him of Leo's name.
It creaked as I lowered him in, but the wood was strong.
Safe.
Like this new life.
I brushed a kiss over his cheek, then lingered, just feeling his warmth.
"I love you," I whispered. "More than anything I've ever lost."
He made a soft sound in his sleep and curled tighter into the blanket.
I smiled, blinking back tears.
Lightning flickered again in the distance, but this time it didn't scare me.
It didn't threaten.
It felt like a promise.
A reminder.
That I was still here.
Still standing.
Still fighting.
I lay beside the crib, staring into the dark, and for the first time in weeks, I let myself believe something wild, something terrifying, something true: Maybe this wasn't the end.
Maybe this was the beginning.