Chapter 4
Five Years Later
The airport smelled like stale coffee and too many goodbyes. My eyes swept the crowd, searching for a familiar face. Nothing. Just strangers brushing past me. Their laughter and reunions stabbing at me like tiny knives.
Five years of coming back to this city, and it was always the same. No one was waiting for me. By now, I should have been used to it. But the disappointment? It still hit like a punch to the gut.
I tightened my grip on my trolley bag. My other hand wrapped protectively around Stella’s tiny fingers. She was four now—my little doll. Her big hazel eyes drinking in the chaos of the airport. Her cheeks still soft from babyhood.
“Gene!”
The voice screamed through the noise, and I spun around. My chest loosened when I saw Ria rushing toward me. Her hair a mess, her face flushed with guilt.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she blurted, nearly tripping over someone’s suitcase in her hurry. “The traffic.. ugh, I swear it was like the universe was against me. You must’ve been waiting forever.”
I gave her a small smile. My throat tight. “You came. That’s what matters.”
I hadn’t wanted to call Ria. Four years abroad had turned my hometown into a foreign country in my mind. But I needed someone. Anyone who remembered who I used to be.
She grabbed my trolley handle, ready to lead me out—then stopped dead. Her eyes landed on Stella, and I swear I saw her brain glitch for a second.
“Oh… my… God.” She crouched. Her voice softened like she was afraid Stella would shatter. “She’s adorable. Wait—this is your sister’s little girl, right? The one you mentioned last night?”
I forced a quick nod. “Yeah. She’s staying with us for a while.” My hand smoothed Stella’s hair, the motion calming me more than her.
We walked out into the parking lot. The night air filled with the scent of gasoline and summer rain. Ria tossed my luggage into her trunk, and we slid into her car.
“So…” she said, side-eyeing me as she started the engine, “Dr. Genevieve now, huh? Look at you. All professional and mysterious.”
I gave her a bitter smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah. Mysterious.” The truth? That “doctor” story was the neat little bow I’d tied around my messy escape. Nobody needed to know the real reason I’d left.
Ria’s voice cut in. “Poor thing… losing her parents like that. And no grandparents either?” She glanced in the rearview at Stella, her tone careful.
I shook my head, my throat tight. “No.”
“So sad,” she murmured. “She’s staying with you permanently?”
I nodded. My heart aching as Stella’s little eyes found mine in the mirror.
We pulled up to Ria’s place. a once-grand building with peeling paint and a gate that groaned open like it had arthritis. Inside, the air smelled faintly of dust and old memories.
I stopped in the hallway, my gaze catching on a family photo on the wall. I brushed away the layer of dust with my fingertips. The sight of those smiling faces punching the air from my lungs.
Ria pressed a mug of steaming coffee into my hands. “Hey… isn’t that Alan?” she asked, pointing at the boy in the photo.
“You guessed it.” My voice was soft but almost lost. We shared a few memories. The kind that makes you smile and ache at the same time. I relished it until her expression shifted. Her eyes darted between me and Stella, narrowing.
“You know… she looks a lot like you. Not your sister. Your sister looked different.”
My stomach dropped. I moved instinctively and stepped in front of Stella like a shield. “She takes after her aunt,” I said quickly, forcing a laugh. “I heard even if a husband and wife look the same if they stay together for years.”
“You believe that shit?” Ria laughed.
“Mumma, where are we?” Stella’s sleepy voice piped up. She rubbed her eyes.
“We’re at Aunt Ria’s, baby,” I soothed, pulling her close. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I silently prayed Ria wouldn’t dig any deeper.
I sat frozen. My heart was hammering against my ribs, when Stella’s small, syrupy voice cut through the air.
“Mumma.”
The word hit me like a gunshot.
Ria’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide, sharp with shock. “Ava… is she calling you mother?”
Her question wasn’t innocent. It was an accusation wrapped in sugar. The air between us tightened, every second stretching painfully thin.
I glanced down at Stella, her cherub face tilted back. A milk bottle clutched between her tiny hands. Oblivious. Innocent. Too young to understand the war her words had just started.
“I don’t want her to miss her mother,” I said quietly. I keep my gaze fixed on the floor. “She’s too young to understand.”
Ria stepped closer. Her hand locked around my arm. She didn’t bother lowering her voice this time.
“Ava, listen to me. You’re a doctor. You’re beautiful. You’re about to marry a man most women would kill for. Why would you chain yourself to someone else’s mistake? Give the child to an adoption center. Start over.”
Her words sliced clean through me. My blood ran hot.
And then, a tiny shift—the milk bottle lowered. Stella’s eyes turned toward Ria, confusion clouding her face.
“What’s an adoption center?” she asked, her voice trembling like she already knew it wasn’t good.
That was it.
“This can never happen,” I snapped. My voice was low but sharp enough to cut. The fury in my tone stopped Ria cold. She blinked, looked away, and muttered something about checking on the food before retreating.
But the damage was done.
Stella’s wide, curious eyes found mine again. “Mom, what was that auntie saying about an adoption center?”
I forced a smile, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Nothing, baby. She meant… a walk. She was just being silly. Go play with your toys for a bit.”
She hesitated, studying me with that eerie way kids do when they sense more than you want them to. But she nodded and skipped toward the corner, where her dolls were waiting.
I exhaled slowly, but the tightness in my chest didn’t leave.
She had too many questions. Stella kept asking about her dad. Over and over. I never had an answer.
She didn’t know the world was far too cruel for someone as innocent as her.
And him—the man I slept with. Who was he? Where was he? A ghost in my life. I prayed he was kind. Gentle. If Stella had any part of him in her, I hoped it was that.
But finding him? That felt impossible. And if I didn’t… Stella would never see her father’s face. And I’d have to live with that. Forever.