Riya's eyes flickered open, and the soft beeping of machines and distant voices slowly pulled her out of the fog of sleep. Her head felt heavy, her body still worn from the ordeal, but when she focused, she saw Justin sitting beside her, holding the baby in his arms. His eyes were wide with wonder as he looked down at their son, completely lost in the moment.
Riya's breath hitched, a mix of exhaustion and fury still lingering within her. Her gaze locked onto the baby in his arms, then shot back to Justin, and the anger she'd been holding back surged again.
"So, now you're playing the perfect dad, huh?" she muttered, her voice hoarse with irritation.
Justin's head jerked up, and his face instantly softened with relief. "Riya, you're awake! You scared the hell out of me. You passed out for a while."
She didn't care about his panic. Her eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with bitterness. "Well, look at you. All Mr. Perfect with our son. Must be nice, huh? After disappearing on me for God knows how long."
Justin blinked, taken aback by her sharp tone, but he quickly recovered, trying to soften the tension in the room. "Riya, I didn't mean to—"
"Didn't mean to?" she interrupted, glaring at him. "You left me to deal with everything alone! You just vanished. And now you think you can just waltz back in like nothing happened?"
He hesitated, his heart sinking at the raw hurt in her voice. "I know, Riya. I know I messed up. But I'm here now. I'm here for you. For both of you."
"Yeah, that's real sweet," she snapped, "but I'm not going to forget how you left me alone to do all of this by myself."
Justin opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off again, her tone icy.
"Don't. Just... don't," she said, her hand gripping the sheets tightly. "I don't need you to apologize right now. I need you to understand that I've been doing just fine without you. And I sure as hell don't need you acting like you're some hero now."
Justin's chest tightened at her words, and he glanced down at the baby in his arms. He knew there was no excuse for what he had done. But watching Riya struggle with the anger, the exhaustion, and the pain, he realized how much he had to make up for.
"Riya," he said softly, "I don't expect you to forgive me. I know I messed up, and I'll spend every day trying to prove to you that I'm here now. I won't disappear again. But I can't change the past. I'm sorry."
Her gaze softened for a split second, but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. "You better not. You owe me more than just words, Justin."
He nodded, his eyes steady as he looked at her. "I know. I'll prove it. One step at a time."
Riya stared at him, her jaw clenched. She wasn't ready to forgive him—not yet—but deep down, she knew it would take time. For now, she just wanted to hold her son, and maybe—just maybe—start the journey of rebuilding the trust that Justin had shattered.
She took a slow breath, her gaze shifting to the tiny face in his arms. "Well, at least he's cute," she muttered, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
Justin chuckled softly, his relief palpable. "Yeah, he's definitely got your fire in him."
Riya didn't smile back, but her eyes softened as she looked at their son. "Let's hope he doesn't inherit your disappearing act," she muttered under her breath, but there was a small trace of warmth in her voice as she reached out to take the baby into her arms.
Justin sat quietly beside her, knowing that this was just the beginning of earning her trust back. But for now, he was grateful to be there, with them, even if she was still mad at him.
Before the silence between them could stretch too long, a soft knock interrupted the stillness. The door eased open, and Riya's mother stepped inside, her eyes already misting the moment she saw her daughter awake. Her stepdad followed closely, his arm gently guiding her, and right behind them came someone Riya didn't expect—Justin's mother.
Her mother hurried to her side, blinking back tears as she leaned down to embrace her carefully, mindful of the wires and the tiny bundle in her arms. "Oh, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You had us so scared."
Riya said nothing. Her eyes flicked from her mother's face to her stepdad's, then to Justin's mother, who stood quietly at the foot of the bed, her gaze fixed on the newborn.
Justin stood, giving them space, but he kept close, watching Riya silently.
"We came as soon as we heard," her stepdad said softly, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "You're strong, Riya. So strong."
Justin's mother offered a tentative smile, her voice gentle as she looked at the baby. "He's perfect," she said. "Looks like both of you."
Riya held the baby a little tighter, her face unreadable. She didn't say a word. Her eyes flicked briefly toward Justin, unreadable and heavy.
Then, as if on cue, her gaze shifted—catching movement outside the hospital room. Two men in black suits stood at either side of the door, still and alert. Her breath hitched, but she remained quiet, her expression sharpening.
Justin followed her gaze and sighed. "They're mine," he said, his voice low and calm. "They're here for protection."
Riya didn't look at him, but her grip on the baby shifted slightly. Still, she said nothing.
Justin moved closer, lowering his voice as he continued, "I disappeared to clean things up. I didn't run, Riya. I ended it. I got everything back—my power, my name… I took them all down."
Riya's expression didn't change. She just stared at their son, lips pressed tightly together, her eyes swimming with thoughts she didn't voice.
Justin reached for her hand, pausing just before touching it. "We'll talk about it later," he said softly.
Still, she didn't speak. Didn't nod. Just held the baby a little closer and stared out at a world that had changed again without warning.
The silence said everything she couldn't yet.
The next day came quietly, sunlight spilling through the hospital blinds as nurses moved in and out, prepping her for discharge. By noon, Riya was helped into a wheelchair, the baby bundled in her arms, and Justin walked closely beside her. The silence between them remained, heavy but no longer hostile—just filled with things unsaid.
They didn't return to her mother's house.
Instead, Justin had arranged for a private, secure apartment just outside the city—a quiet place, away from chaos, eyes, and noise. The moment they arrived, Riya noticed the subtle layers of protection: two guards discreetly stationed outside, the black SUV that trailed behind them, the way Justin scanned every corner before unlocking the door.
Inside, the apartment was warm and quiet, sunlight filtering through sheer curtains, the faint scent of new paint and lavender in the air. It felt untouched—like it was waiting just for them.
Justin's mother, along with Riya's mom and stepdad, had followed in a second car. Once inside, they gently took over the baby—cooing over him, rocking him in turns, fussing with blankets and bottles. Riya didn't protest. She was too drained.
"Get some rest," her mother said, brushing a kiss to her forehead. "We'll handle the little one for a bit."
Justin's mom gave a small smile and took the baby into her arms. "Go on, the two of you need time."
With a nod from her stepdad and a reassuring glance from her mom, the three of them disappeared into the guest room with the baby, the door clicking shut behind them.
Riya lowered herself onto the soft couch in the living room, silent, the tension still coiled in her chest. Justin took the seat across from her, his eyes searching hers carefully.
Minutes passed before she finally spoke, her voice flat. "When they were after us… I wasn't pregnant. I didn't even know. I thought I'd never…" Her words drifted into silence.
Justin exhaled slowly, rubbing his hands together. "I know. I found out only after I left. You didn't deserve that—any of it. But I had to disappear to take care of everything. I had to end it before it could touch you again."
Riya looked at him, still guarded. "You should've told me something. Anything. I thought you were dead."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I wanted to. Every day. But I couldn't risk you being traced through me. And I couldn't come back until I had finished what I started."
Her jaw tensed. "And now?"
"Now, it's done," he said quietly. "They're gone. I took back my power. My name. And I swore to myself that I wouldn't let anyone come near you again."
Riya didn't reply. She didn't nod or protest. She simply stared at the floor, hands resting in her lap.
Justin's voice softened. "We'll talk more later. Right now… just rest. I'll be here."
Riya didn't move. Her eyes remained fixed on the space between them, on the silence that carried more weight than any words.
Justin didn't push her. He just leaned back into the couch, letting the quiet settle. The rhythmic ticking of a wall clock filled the room, the only sound besides the muffled hum of life behind the guest room door.
After a while, Riya stood up slowly, moving toward the window. She pulled the curtain back just enough to peek out—the city skyline blurred in the distance, a different world from the one she'd known just days ago.
"I don't know how to feel," she said finally, her back to him. "One part of me is furious… the other part is just tired. And then there's this part that keeps wondering if I can even believe any of it."
"You don't have to figure it out today," Justin said gently. "I'm not expecting you to."
She turned halfway, her arms crossed tightly. "You say it's over. But does that mean we're safe? Or just safer for now?"
Justin met her eyes. "I've done everything I can. The people who were after me… after us… they're either dead, in hiding, or no longer a threat. But I'm not blind. I'll always keep looking over my shoulder. I'll always protect you. That's a promise."
"And what if I don't want protecting?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if I just want peace?"
He rose slowly, approaching but keeping his distance. "Then I'll give you that too. Whatever you need. Even if it means walking away… if that's what peace looks like for you."
She looked at him for a long moment, expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turned away again and quietly walked toward the hallway. Her steps were slow, thoughtful. When she reached the guest room door, she paused—hand on the doorknob—then changed her mind and continued down the hall to the bedroom instead.
Justin didn't follow.
He sat back down, his eyes drifting to the closed door. Somewhere in the distance, the baby let out a soft cry, followed by the calming hush of a grandmother's voice.
He didn't know what tomorrow would bring. But tonight, they were under the same roof. Breathing the same air. Healing, even if in silence.
It was a start.
He sat back and sighed.
His phone rang.
He picked up and said in a chill voice.
"Speak"
"We finished them off boss, the last of them"
He smirked "Good"
Then he hung up.
The apartment was still.
Justin sat on the couch, the phone resting loosely in his hand as the weight of those final words sank in. It's over. He repeated them in his mind, letting the satisfaction settle into his bones like warmth after a storm.
But even victory felt hollow when the woman he fought for wasn't ready to let him back in.
He looked down at the phone again, then set it aside on the coffee table. His eyes drifted to the hallway where Riya had disappeared minutes ago. The bedroom door remained closed, silent. He didn't expect her to come back out—not tonight. And maybe not tomorrow. But he could wait. He would wait.
For her. For their son. For the life they were supposed to have.
Meanwhile, in the guest room, Riya sat on the edge of the bed, watching her mother cradle the baby. The room glowed softly with a nightlight, casting golden hues over everything. Her stepdad was quietly assembling a baby rocker in the corner while Justin's mother folded tiny clothes and placed them neatly in drawers.
It should've felt like comfort. Like family.
But her chest still ached with the burden of unspoken pain.
"He really didn't tell you anything?" her mother asked gently, breaking the quiet.
Riya shook her head. "Not a word. One day he was there… the next, gone. And everything that came after—I was alone."
Her mom walked over, resting a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "But he's back now."
Riya swallowed hard. "Yeah. And I don't know what to do with that."
"Then don't do anything yet," her stepdad said from the corner, not even looking up. "Time has a funny way of showing you what you really want."
Justin's mom offered a soft smile from across the room. "He loves you, Riya. I know he's made mistakes… but everything he did, he did it for you."
Riya didn't reply. She wasn't ready to absolve him—not yet.
But she had noticed something new in him. A calmness. A cold confidence that hadn't been there before. It made her wonder what, exactly, he had to become to end it all.
What did he lose to protect me?
What did he gain?
She gently reached for her baby, who was now asleep in her mother's arms. "I'll take him now," she whispered. Carefully, she cradled the tiny body against her chest, breathing in the scent of baby powder and warmth. His tiny hand curled around her finger, instinctive and trusting.
She kissed the top of his head, then looked up. "You guys should rest too. I'll keep him with me tonight."
Her mother hesitated but finally nodded. "Call if you need anything, sweetheart."
Once they left, Riya sat there in silence, rocking her son gently. She glanced toward the bedroom door, her thoughts spinning like a slow-moving storm.
In the other room, Justin lay awake on the couch, staring at the ceiling. The tension in his shoulders hadn't eased, but there was something steadier about his breathing now. The threat was over. But rebuilding—that would be the hardest part.
He didn't hear the door open.
Didn't notice Riya until her quiet voice broke the silence.
"He has your eyes."
He sat up instantly, meeting her gaze.
She stepped into the room, barefoot, baby in her arms. She didn't look angry now—just tired. But there was a sliver of vulnerability in her tone that hadn't been there earlier.
Justin rose but didn't move closer. "Yeah?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "And your temper, probably. God help me."
A small laugh escaped him, but he caught it quickly, unsure if it was okay to find levity.
Riya didn't smile, but she didn't leave either. She walked over to the armchair near the window and sat down, adjusting the baby in her arms.
Justin stayed silent.
After a long pause, she finally looked up at him. Her voice was lower now. Calmer.
"Don't ever lie to me again, Justin. Not about this. Not about anything."
"I won't," he said immediately.
She stared at him for a long moment, as if testing the truth in his voice.
Then, finally, she nodded. "Good."
It wasn't forgiveness.
It wasn't a clean slate.
But it was a crack in the wall she'd built around herself.
And for now, that was enough.