A few months had passed since my arrival in the city, and though life was far from being a piece of cake, I did catch the rhythm of it all and found little peace in my new routine. That inn I stayed at turned into a small apartment on the outskirts, big enough to fit me in, but good enough. I finally got a part-time job in some diner, which brought in just enough to pay rent and some of the necessities. Always in some kind of haze: between work and sleep, days didn't mean anything different. Every night, when I lay down, instinctively my hand fell onto the small swell of my tummy. The easy life inside me became an anchor, a reason to keep going.
It would on some a familiar ache of Logan's rejection washing over my mind I would feel this faint flutter from within, like a reminder of the future I was building solo. There was an ache in that, too-to know that Logan would never know this side of me, that he chose a path that wasn't to include me. But as days passed, I was thinking less about my life at home than about this new one that I was building here in this loud, foreign city that became my refuge.
---
One night, after a long shift, I sat in the back booth of the diner sipping a cup of hot tea, finally allowing my body to relax for the first time that day. Rain pelted the window outside, slowly dribbling down. The sound suddenly seemed almost soothing, comforting somehow. I wrapped my hands around the heat of the cup, just enjoying it, when a voice broke into my reverie.
Is this seat taken?"
I looked up to see a woman with wild red curls and freckles scattered across her cheeks, her green eyes bright and curious. She held a book in one hand, and in the other, a mug of steaming coffee. She looked around my age, though her vibrant smile made her seem even younger.
"No, go ahead," I said, gesturing to the seat across from me.
"Thanks," she said, slipping into the booth with a chipper smile. "I'm Amelia, by the way."
"Aria," I responded with a small smile back.
She eyed my stomach, her eyes lighting up before giving way to a soft laugh. "I thought so! My sister's pregnant too, so I have kind of a radar for it now. How far along are you?"
Five months," I said, a flicker of warmth at the genuine interest in her voice. "It's. New. I'm still getting used to everything."
She nodded knowingly with a sip of her coffee. "I can imagine. Well, if you ever need anything, anything-just anything serious, sister's always asking for the most random things." She laughed again, the sound infectious, genuine.
I chuckled low in my throat. "Thanks, Amelia. Might just take you up on that."
The rest of the evening we talked about nothing and everything; she was just so easy to be around that the walls I had built around myself started to crack. She told me about her job as a librarian, her love for old books, and how one day she wanted to see the world. Her stories painted pictures in my head of a place I had only ever dreamed of, and for the first time in months, I felt a spark of excitement for my future.
By the time the rain had stopped and the diner was closing, we'd exchanged numbers promising to meet again sooner or later. A small step, but as I walked back toward my apartment, I felt a lighter sense of hope that hadn't visited me in a long time.
---
In that quiet cadence of work and rest, days merged into weeks, anchored by coffee or lunch with Amelia to bring reality back into my life. My tummy grew steadily, each flutter and kick an incessant reminder of the life I nurtured, the future I built.
Then, one afternoon, as I closed the diner, I caught a glimpse through the window of a familiar figure. Standing on the pavement, Leah raked the street with her eyes, an obvious misfit among the tide of busy people. In an instant, my heart catapulted to my throat, swelling with the combination of panic and relief. Never had I expected to find her here, not after the abrupt way I'd left town without letting anyone know where I was headed.
I wavered my hand on the door. Part of me wanted to run away and get lost in the anonymity of the city. But Leah's gaze caught mine through the glass, her face breaking into a relieved smile as she recognized me.
"Aria!" she exclaimed, surging forward as I opened the door, pulling me into a tight hug. "I can't believe I finally found you! I've been looking everywhere.".
The warmth was like a habit, enveloping me, and for a moment I dropped my defences, comforted by the defences her being pulled around me. Reality belted right back down once more and I pushed off, instinctively covering my belly with my hand.
"What are you doing here, Leah?" I whispered.
She looked at me, her face softening as her eyes took in the way I was standing protectively over my small pile of belongings. "I had to see you, Aria. No one knew where you'd gone and I. I needed to know you were okay."
"I'm. fine," I replied though the word felt like a lie. I looked around, feeling the weight of the city press in, the life I'd built here suddenly fragile under her gaze. "I'm surviving.
Leah's gaze dropped to my tummy, the shock giving way first to horror and then to something so much softer-it was a mix, really, of awe and understanding. "Is. is it his?
I didn't have to ask who she was talking about. It was etched on every furrow of concern on her face. I nodded, unable to meet her gaze, fearing what she would say, the judgment or the pity that might be there in.
To my surprise, Leah's hand reached out, laying gently over mine. "He doesn't know, does he?
I shook my head, and the lump in my throat swallowed. "No, and he doesn't need to. This is. This is my life now, Leah. I'm building something here, something that isn't about him."
She nodded, eyes steady but spoke more slowly, "I understand, Aria. I do. But. he deserves to know, doesn't he?"
The words stung, piercing through the resolve that had built up over the last several months. I looked away, struggling to hold back the emotions that threatened to spill over. "He made his choice, Leah. He chose a life without me, without us. I'm not going back there, not after everything.".
Leah signed then, clamping her hand over mine. "I won't press, Aria. Just. promise me that you will think about it, alright? If not for him, then for yourself. You at least deserve closure.".
I nodded, though I knew how empty the promise was. There was closure to nothing, not with Logan, not with the life I'd left behind. Yet, as Leah disappeared out the door, her words remained, a whisper in the back of my mind that refused to disappear.
The soft stirrings of the child within me, as I lay in bed that night, made me wonder if Leah was right, if facing Logan-if facing the past I'd tried so hard to leave behind was something I needed to do.
But as darkness closed in around me, I pushed those thoughts aside, clinging to the life I'd built here, the future I was fighting for. Logan had made his choice, and so had I.