Chapter 26 – Shifting Shadows
Arya's POV
I stood by the window, watching the early morning light dance across the garden outside. The roses Damon planted weeks ago were beginning to bloom. Soft pink petals curled open like they were finally learning to breathe again after a harsh winter.
Maybe I was like those roses too—slowly learning how to bloom in a place that once only reminded me of pain.
Liam's laughter echoed from the hallway as his tiny feet pounded against the floor. I smiled. My son's joy was like sunshine—real, honest, impossible to ignore. He was the one constant that kept my heart beating through the chaos.
And then there was Damon.
He wasn't the same man he used to be. That much was clear.
Last night, I woke up to find him sleeping on the couch in Liam's room, his large frame curled awkwardly as if he had stayed there just to make sure Liam didn't wake up crying again. He had no idea I saw him.
He had no idea I stood there for a full five minutes just watching the way his hand rested on our son's tiny blanket, protective and tender in a way I never thought Damon Kingsley was capable of.
"Mommy, guess what Uncle Ethan said?" Liam giggled, interrupting my thoughts as he ran into the room, his toy dinosaur in one hand.
I crouched down, brushing his curly hair away from his forehead. "What did he say, baby?"
"He said Daddy used to be like a big bad bear. But now he's just a sleepy bear who wants hugs!"
I laughed, genuinely laughed. Ethan always knew how to lighten the air around us. After everything, he remained in our lives—not as a threat, not as a mistake, but as a friend. A quiet anchor. A soft reminder that not every man was like Damon used to be.
But Damon wasn't who he used to be anymore.
And that scared me.
"Do you want a hug from Daddy?" I asked gently, curious.
Liam nodded. "Yeah. Daddy hugs good now. Not stiff like before."
My chest ached at his words. Even our son noticed the change. Damon's coldness used to be something we all tiptoed around, but not anymore. The walls were crumbling, brick by careful brick.
After Liam left to play, I made my way to the kitchen. Damon was already there, making pancakes—his hair tousled, wearing one of those old grey shirts I always liked but never admitted out loud.
"Morning," he said quietly, without turning around.
"Morning," I replied, pouring myself some juice and leaning against the counter.
There was a pause, the kind that used to be heavy and awkward between us. But now, it was just... quiet. Comfortable.
He flipped a pancake, then spoke. "I was thinking… maybe we could take Liam out today. The zoo maybe? He's been talking about lions all week."
I blinked. Damon suggesting a family outing? That used to be unheard of.
"That sounds nice," I said softly.
He glanced at me, and for a moment, I saw it—the flicker of hope in his eyes. The kind that said he wasn't giving up on us. Not yet.
As I watched him, I found myself remembering things. The way he used to clench his jaw when he was angry. How he avoided eye contact after our fights. How cold his touch used to feel even when he tried to be intimate.
And yet... now?
He touched Liam's head so gently. He asked about my day. He never raised his voice. He apologized—really apologized.
"Thank you," I said suddenly.
He turned to me, surprised. "For what?"
"For not giving up on Liam," I whispered, swallowing the emotion rising in my throat.
He put the spatula down. "Arya... I gave up on a lot of things. But I never gave up on him. Or you. I just didn't know how to show it."
I looked away. My heart wasn't ready to forgive completely. But it was listening.
Before I could reply, my phone buzzed.
Ethan.
I hesitated.
Damon noticed. "You can answer. I don't mind."
I looked at him. "He just wants to know if we're okay."
"Are we?" he asked, eyes searching mine.
I didn't answer right away. Instead, I stepped forward and helped him plate the pancakes. Our hands brushed. The old me would have pulled away.
I didn't.
Later that afternoon, we took Liam to the zoo. He ran ahead, pointing at monkeys and tigers with wide eyes, laughing with so much joy it made my chest tighten.
Damon held my hand.
I let him.
For the first time in a long time, it didn't feel forced.
On our way home, Liam slept in the backseat, his head tilted and lips slightly parted.
Damon drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near mine on the console. I didn't move it.
"I know I hurt you, Arya," he said suddenly, voice low. "I know I don't deserve another chance. But I'm still here. And I'll keep proving myself to you until your heart believes me."
Tears burned my eyes.
"You're not the only one who changed," I said quietly. "I'm learning how to trust again. But it's hard."
"I'll wait," he promised.
And I believed him.
When we got home, Damon carried Liam upstairs and tucked him into bed like he always did now.
As I stood by the bedroom door, watching father and son, I felt something shift in my chest. Not everything was healed. The past hadn't disappeared. But for the first time, I wasn't just surviving.
I was beginning to feel safe again.
And that was enough—for now.
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