Chapter 192

Ava’s POV

Two weeks had passed. During that time, I’d tried countless times to tell Tessa and Mikayla I didn’t want to impose, to be a burden. But each time, they reassured me gently, insisting I wasn’t.

They never asked about what happened, never pressed. But something in Tessa’s eyes that first night—an understanding I couldn’t articulate—must have told her I needed this. That I needed them.

So I stayed.

We quickly fell into a routine. Every morning, Tessa wrestled Mikayla out of bed. Mikayla, naturally, fought back, muttering about school being overrated or how she could become a millionaire without math. It was always a struggle, but always funny—a small, warm distraction that brightened my mornings.

Watching them, day after day, that warmth grew. A thought took root, refusing to be ignored: I wanted this someday. I wanted these small struggles, this love wrapped in bickering and laughter. This was what I could look forward to, what I wanted for my child.

This conviction deepened daily. I wanted this baby growing inside me, and I would love them unconditionally. I would never become my parents. From their first breath, my child would know they were wanted, loved, and cherished.

Each morning, Mikayla reluctantly got ready for school after much prodding from Tessa. We left together; Tessa owned a food truck, and I started helping her. It wasn’t much, but it kept my mind occupied.

I called Isabella only once. I kept it brief, saying I was fine but needed space. I didn’t want to hear about Grayson or my life back home. I didn’t tell her about the baby—I wasn’t ready.

For now, I just wanted to live simply. To pretend, even briefly, that I was someone else. If there was one thing I’d mastered over the years, it was pretending.

“Ava, can you help me with this?”

Tessa’s voice broke through my thoughts. I smiled and hurried to help her with a heavy container.

“Thanks,” she said, looking concerned. “You okay?”

I nodded quickly. “I’m fine, just lost in thought.”

She studied me a moment longer, then let it go.

The morning rush soon began. The cheerful yellow food truck was in its usual spot, the air filled with the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. I worked alongside Tessa, greeting customers, taking orders, and serving food.

“Order up for Sam—egg and cheese croissant, side of hash browns!” I called, sliding a bag across the counter.

A man approached, glancing at the menu. “Turkey and avocado wrap and a black coffee, please.”

“Coming right up!” I replied, entering his order and handing the receipt to Tessa.

The flow of customers was steady. Some chatted, others grabbed their food and left.

I was getting more napkins when I heard a voice.

“Cappuccino and a blueberry muffin.”

I froze.

That voice.

I took a shaky breath before turning. Isabella stood there, her face a mix of warmth and determination; Eliza was behind her, her expression unreadable.

Isabella smiled, her tone light yet pointed. “Hi, Lilian.”

I forced a smile, my stomach twisting. “Sure,” I said, my voice carefully neutral. I turned to prepare her order. My hands shook as I poured the cappuccino, focusing on the task. Blueberry muffin. Cappuccino.

I handed Isabella her order; her fingers brushed mine. Her eyes never left my face, sharp and unwavering.

I swallowed, holding her gaze before turning to Eliza, whose expression was uneasy and apologetic. “Anything for you, Eliza?”

Before Eliza could answer, Isabella laughed—a sharp, cutting laugh devoid of humor. “I thought she was going to pretend she didn’t know us,” she said sarcastically, turning to Eliza.

My shoulders slumped. I closed my eyes, sighing. “Bels, please,” I whispered. “Not here.”

Before Isabella could respond, someone shouted from behind, “Hey! Stop holding up the line!”

I turned to apologize, but Tessa appeared. “Is there a problem?”

I started to say no, but Isabella spoke first. She smiled, the practiced smile I’d seen countless times, and addressed Tessa. “I just need to borrow your employee for a moment. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Tessa looked at me, her brows furrowed. She sensed something was wrong. I shook my head almost imperceptibly. I knew Isabella too well—her calm exterior was cracking, a storm brewing beneath.

“We have many customers to serve,” Tessa began cautiously.

Isabella ignored her, turning to me, her smile gone. “Three seconds to come out of this truck, or I’ll drag you out myself.”

Eliza shifted uncomfortably, wanting to intervene but unsure how.

Tessa’s mouth opened to protest, but I cut her off. “It’s fine,” I said quickly. I wasn’t fine, but I knew Isabella wasn’t bluffing. She would find me, and she would be furious that I’d asked everyone to leave me alone—including her.

Tessa hesitated, wanting to argue, but she must have seen something in my expression because she nodded. I turned to Isabella, my stomach churning, and stepped out of the truck. The cold air hit me like a slap. I crossed my arms as I faced her.

“Can we at least move away from the crowd?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. She gestured sharply for me to move. Reluctantly, I did. Eliza hurried to catch up, whispering, “She’s really angry.”

I sighed. “You don’t say.”

“I told you not to cozy up to her, Eliza,” Isabella snapped. Eliza flinched, putting distance between them.

The tension was unbearable. My feet felt heavy, but I kept moving. I stopped when we were far enough away, the noise from the food truck a faint hum. I turned, ready to speak, but Isabella’s eyes burned with anger and hurt, and she spoke first.

“You want everyone to leave you alone? Since when am I ‘everyone’?” Her voice cracked, but she quickly recovered. “That’s not what makes me mad. What makes me so fucking mad is that you went back to your horrible parents instead of coming to me. Then you shut me out completely. And now? Now you’re staying with strangers—strangers, Lilian—when you’re at your lowest! And then you have the audacity to call and say what?”

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off. “I’m not finished!”

Her words hit hard. I clamped my mouth shut.

“You called to say you want to be left alone? That’s fucking bullshit, Lilian,” she said, her voice trembling. The anger was still there, but the hurt was raw and unfiltered.

I couldn’t speak. She was right. Things with Grayson had imploded, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I still didn’t want to handle it. But what I was doing to Isabella was wrong. I’d shut out my best friend, the one person who’d always been there for me.

I knew what she would have done if I’d gone to her—she would have tried to comfort me. And I didn’t want comfort.

“Well?” she snapped. “I’m done talking. Don’t you have anything to say?”

I looked at her, then at Eliza, who stood silently, uncomfortable. The words slipped out before I could stop them. “I’m pregnant.”

Eliza gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Isabella froze, the anger vanishing. Her eyes widened. Before she could speak, another voice spoke.

“Well, isn’t that just great news.”

My wolf growled, a low rumble in my chest, as I turned toward the voice.

Isabella didn’t miss a beat, her venom returning. “What the hell are you doing here?”

(The final "AD ■%68" appears to be extraneous and has been omitted.)