Page 95 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
She lifted her head, round eyes teary, locked on mine. Lashes wet like dew-kissed butterfly wings. She raised her hand, fingers tracing my brow, nose, settling on my lips.
Then she tiptoed, pressing soft, warm lips to mine.
This kiss was worlds from the fire before. Gentle as a feather on water, tender care.
When she pulled back, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and glossy from it.
"Okay," she whispered, voice husky, sweet. "I'll wait for you here."
Chapter Twenty-Five
Ella
I sat by Maya's hospital bed, clutching the signed purchase agreement. The heavy paper dug into my fingertips. Lucas, that lunatic, he'd actually bought that penthouse downtown, the one with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the entire city skyline. And he'd used my birthday as the entry code.
"The realtor said everything's finalized," I told Maya quietly, staring at the astronomical sale price. "But it feels like a dream, Maya. I've never accepted anything this expensive. It's like my spine finally straightened, and now it's bending all over again."
Maya leaned against her pillows, her face flushed with color from recent treatments.
She looked at me and smiled. "Here you go again."
"How can I not?" I let out a bitter laugh and tossed the contract onto the nightstand. "I used to bend over backwards for your medical bills, degraded myself in that marriage until I was nothing. Now I'm finally standing on my own two feet, and he pulls this shit—reels me right back in. I don't want to be the one who's less than anymore, Maya. I've already learned what it costs to take someone's money."
Maya shook her head, her eyes clear and knowing. "Ella, stop treating this like a trap. Lucas isn't paying off a mistress. He's taking responsibility as a father."
I froze.
"It's for the baby." Maya gestured at my belly, her voice firm.
My hand drifted to my abdomen. Inside, the little life made bubbling movements, like a fish blowing tiny bubbles.
The sensation was strange. Every time I felt the baby move, I was reminded this tiny person was real.
"And you need to understand something," Maya continued. "The dynamic between you two has changed. Before, you owed him for my medical bills—that was your debt. But now you're carrying his child. That makes you equals. You're growing a life for him, dealing with your body changing, and facing childbirth. He provides material security. That's fair."
I bit my lip and said nothing.
"You know what, Ella?" Maya's voice softened. "I've always admired you. You're so much stronger than me. When Mom abandoned us, you were only eight. Your childhood was so hard—we worried about where our next box of pasta was coming from in that leaking apartment. We walked three miles home in a blizzard once just to save a few bucks on bus fare."
"Maya." My eyes burned.
Her words dragged me back to childhood. Winter was hell for poor people. Maya and I lived in Dad's old apartment with no money for heat. We'd huddle under thin blankets in one bed. Maya dropped out of school and worked three jobs. After school, I'd come home alone, do my homework, and eat the sandwich she'd left me.
One winter was brutal. My shoes had a hole in them. Walking through snow, ice water seeped in. My feet swelled red and raw. I could barely walk. When Maya found out, she cried for hours.She bought me new shoes with her earnings, but that month we lived on mashed potatoes and canned soup.
I didn't want my child living like that.
"But sometimes you need to learn to accept things," Maya said, her gaze serious. "Accept kindness. Accept what life offers you. You don't have to carry everything alone. You can lean on people. Let them take care of you. There's no shame in it."
I turned away so she wouldn't see my tears. Outside, the wind stripped the last leaf from a branch. It spun through the air, like a lost soul.
I let Maya's words sink in. She was right. I couldn't let pride and impulse teach my child what poverty felt like. That would be failing as a mother.
"I understand," I finally managed, my voice thick. "You're right. The apartment's for the baby. I'll accept it."
Maya's expression relaxed. "That's better."
"But," I took a deep breath, steadying my voice, "I'm not lowering my standards for myself. I'm passing that nursing exam. I'm getting my own job, my own income. So if he ever treats me like before, if he abandons me again, I can support my child on my own."
