Leila's POV:
Finally, Nelly spoke, her tone cool and measured. "Lily," she said, not bothering to hide her skepticism, "I think it's good that you're thinking about your child's future. But forgiveness doesn't come that easily. You left without a word, without caring how much you hurt the people who loved you. And now you think you can waltz back in and everything will be like it was?"
Nelly's words were firm, and I could feel a surge of relief. She wasn't falling for it. Lily's attempts at manipulation weren't going to work on her, at least not so easily.
Lily's smile faltered just a fraction, though she quickly recovered, nodding as if she understood. But I could see the flicker of frustration in her eyes. She wasn't getting what she wanted, and it was clearly unsettling her.
Still, Lily kept up her performance, her voice softening as she tried to appeal to Nelly's compassion. "I understand that I hurt you, Nelly. I really do. But I'm different now. My child deserves a chance to grow up surrounded by people who care about them. I just want to do what's best for them... and I thought that included you and Lucas."
I felt my teeth clench as I listened to her, biting back the urge to call out her obvious manipulation. But I didn't need to say anything. Nelly stood her ground.
"We'll see, Lily," Nelly replied, her voice still cool. "But don't expect things to go back to how they were just because you've returned."
Lily's eyes flashed, but she kept her composure, nodding again with a tight smile. "I understand," she said before turning her attention back to me with that same fake sweetness she always wore.
I could feel her gaze on me, but I didn't care. I had won this round. Nelly wasn't fooled, and that was all I needed to know. Lily might be clever, but I wasn't about to let her worm her way back into Drake's life, or the life we were building together.
This battle wasn't over, but for now, I had the upper hand.
I had gone to the orphanage later in the day to help out with the kids. I couldn't help but feel a mixture of empathy and sorrow for them, but at the same time, a strange sense of envy. They were unlucky in one way—losing their parents—but lucky in another. Despite their loss, they were surrounded by people who cared for them, people who loved them unconditionally.
I, on the other hand, had parents who were very much alive, and yet I often found myself wishing they weren't. The thought startled me, but it was the truth. They were there, but I never received love, never felt acceptance. If they had died, maybe I wouldn't have gone through all the pain they inflicted. Maybe if I had been an orphan, I would have known what it felt like to be loved, even if it was by strangers.
As I was lost in thought, I felt a tug at my shirt. I looked down to see a little girl, barely two or three years old, looking up at me with wide, expectant eyes. She raised her arms toward me, wordlessly asking to be carried. I couldn't resist smiling. Scooping her up, I spun her around, her joyous giggles lighting up the room and bursting my heart wide open with warmth.
"Again! Again!" she squealed, her laughter infectious.
I laughed along with her, spinning her one more time until we were both dizzy and breathless. Her giggles were the sweetest sound, and I felt a momentary peace I hadn't felt in a long time. Setting her down gently, I watched as she ran off to the other children, excitedly telling them about how I had spun her around "like a roller coaster."
It was then that I sensed someone watching me. I turned and saw Drake standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes locked on me with a soft smile playing on his lips. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, and I felt a warmth rise in my chest, different from the one the little girl had stirred in me.
As I approached him, he didn't waste any time. He grabbed my hand and, with a grin, tugged me toward an empty room at the back of the orphanage. My curiosity piqued, I let him lead me, my heart racing for reasons I couldn't quite name. He pulled me inside, quickly closing the door behind us. Before I could ask what he was doing, Drake pressed me against the door, his body close to mine, his breath warm against my skin.
A small gasp escaped my lips as his mouth descended on mine. His kiss was fierce and thorough, sending shockwaves through my body. My mind went hazy, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. His hands gripped my hips as if grounding me, but at the same time, I felt like I was floating.
He moved his lips to my ear, nibbling gently on my earlobe, his voice low and husky as he murmured against my skin, "You look so beautiful when you smile." The words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help the blush that crept up my neck.
His tone changed, becoming darker, sultrier. "I'd love to make love to you right here, right now," he whispered, his words sending heat coursing through me, making my heart pound wildly in my chest. His dirty talk left me delirious, breathless, and completely at his mercy. I clung to him, my body betraying me, craving more of his touch.
When he bit my earlobe, a moan slipped from my lips, unbidden. "Drake…" I whispered, his name a plea on my lips. He responded by lifting me effortlessly placing my legs around his waist, pressing me firmly against the door as he claimed my mouth again in a passionate, heady kiss that left me completely undone.
And then, suddenly, he stopped. He paused, his forehead resting against mine as he fought for control. His breath was ragged, his hold on me still firm, but he cursed under his breath.
"Damn it," he muttered, his voice strained. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I have to go. We'll finish this later, I promise."
I nodded, still too dazed to speak, as he gently set me back down on my feet. He lingered for a moment longer, keeping his forehead pressed against mine, both of us trying to calm the storm that had built between us. His breath mingled with mine as he struggled to regain control, and I felt the magnetic pull between us, even in the silence.
Finally, he kissed my forehead softly, a tender gesture that contrasted the heat we had just shared. "I'll be back soon," he whispered, his lips lingering for just a moment before he stepped away.
With one last glance, he unlocked the door and slipped out, leaving me leaning against the door, my heart still racing, my mind spinning. As the echo of his footsteps faded, I couldn't help but touch my lips, still tingling from his kiss.
Whatever this was between us, it was only getting more intense. And I wasn't sure I could resist it for much longer.
After spending some time at the orphanage i decided to head back then I noticed Marcus walking toward the hospital with a bag in hand. Casually, I asked him who it was for. He looked at me in shock, his expression one of disbelief.
"Haven't you heard? Lily fell down the stairs. Lucas carried her to the hospital. She was bleeding and unconscious."
"Shit!" I exclaimed, my heart sinking. Without wasting another moment, I took off running toward the hospital, my thoughts racing as fast as my feet.
When I arrived, the tension in the air was thick. I saw Drake pacing anxiously near the waiting area, and Lucas was holding a hysterical Nelly, who was sobbing uncontrollably. She kept repeating, "It's all my fault. I should have forgiven her when she came to apologize."
My mind reeled. So, this was why Drake had rushed out on me earlier. Why didn't he tell me? We could have come here together. But I quickly pushed those thoughts aside. This wasn't about me. Drake needed comfort, and whatever had happened between us could wait. Right now, he was clearly worried—probably blaming himself for not protecting his child.
I walked over to him, and without a word, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug. His body tensed for a moment before he melted into the embrace, his arms tightening around me. I could feel the stress in him, the uncertainty, the fear.
"She's still with the doctors," he said quietly, his voice strained with emotion. "I don't know if Lily and the baby are okay or not."
Hearing the fear in his voice, I tightened my arms around him, offering him whatever strength and comfort I could muster. "They'll be okay," I whispered, though I wasn't sure.