The warm sun streamed through the windows as Isla walked through the bustling marketplace, Amara snuggled against her chest in a baby carrier. The little girl cooed and waved her chubby hands at passing strangers, eliciting smiles from the vendors. Isla smiled back politely, though her heart felt heavy.
She had spent months building this life for her and Amara-a quiet, hidden sanctuary far from the chaos that Dante brought into her world. But now, the threat of his presence loomed once more.
As she approached the vegetable stand, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She ignored it, pretending to examine the ripe tomatoes in front of her. The phone buzzed again, and then again. The vendor raised an eyebrow at her.
“Someone’s persistent,” he remarked.
Isla forced a smile. “Wrong number, I’m sure,” she lied, handing over a few bills for her purchase.
The truth was, it wasn’t a wrong number. It was Dante. He had been calling non-stop for the past week, and each time, she sent the call to voicemail.
—
Confrontation from Afar
Back in his office, Dante sat with his phone pressed to his ear, listening to the same automated message:
“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone.”
He ended the call with a frustrated sigh, tossing the phone onto his desk. Marco, standing by the door, cleared his throat.
“She’s not going to answer, boss. Maybe it’s time to try a different approach.”
Dante glared at him. “What do you suggest, Marco? Showing up unannounced and scaring her even more?”
Marco hesitated. “No, but you’re not exactly known for patience. Give her time.”
Dante shook his head. “Time? I’ve given her time, Marco. I’ve given her space. And look where it’s gotten me-completely shut out of her life.”
—
Isla’s Determination
Back at the cottage, Isla was preparing dinner when Anna dropped by, carrying a basket of fresh fruit.
“Look at you, Supermom,” Anna teased, setting the basket on the counter. “You’ve got this whole domestic life figured out.”
Isla smirked. “It’s not as glamorous as it looks. Most days, I’m just trying to keep Amara from throwing food everywhere.”
Anna glanced at her friend, her expression softening. “How are you holding up? I know you’ve been avoiding Dante’s calls.”
Isla stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“You might not want to, but he’s not going to stop,” Anna said gently. “He’s Amara’s father, Isla. At some point, you’re going to have to let him in.”
Isla shook her head, her voice firm. “He doesn’t deserve to be let in, Anna. He had his chance, and he blew it. Now, it’s just me and Amara. That’s all that matters.”
—
An Unwelcome Visitor
The next morning, Isla was taking Amara for a walk in the park when she felt a chill run down her spine. She turned, her heart sinking as she saw Dante standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets.
“Isla,” he said, his voice soft but insistent.
She tightened her grip on the stroller. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped closer, his eyes fixed on her. “I just want to talk. Please.”
She shook her head, her voice cold. “There’s nothing to talk about, Dante. Go back to your world and leave us alone.”
He frowned, his frustration evident. “I can’t do that, Isla. You know I can’t. Amara is my daughter too.”
Isla’s eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get to play the concerned father now, Dante. Where were you when I needed you? When she needed you?”
Dante took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I made mistakes, Isla. I know that. But I’m here now, trying to fix them.”
She laughed bitterly. “It’s too late for that. You can’t just show up and expect everything to go back to the way it was.”
“I don’t expect that,” he said, his voice steady. “I just want a chance to be part of her life. To be part of your life.”
Her expression hardened. “You had your chance, Dante. And you blew it. Now, leave us alone.”
Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, pushing the stroller faster than necessary.
—
The Weight of Regret
Later that evening, Isla sat on the floor of the nursery, watching Amara play with her stuffed animals. The encounter with Dante had left her shaken, her emotions a whirlwind of anger, sadness, and confusion.
Anna called, and Isla picked up after the first ring.
“Hey, how did the walk go?” Anna asked.
Isla sighed. “Dante showed up.”
Anna gasped. “What? What did he say?”
“The usual,” Isla said wearily. “He wants to be part of Amara’s life. He wants to fix things. But I can’t trust him, Anna. I can’t let him hurt us again.”
Anna was silent for a moment before speaking. “I get it, Isla. I do. But maybe you should think about what’s best for Amara. She deserves to know her father.”
Isla’s voice broke. “I don’t know if I can handle that, Anna. Every time I see him, it feels like I’m ripping open old wounds.”
“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Anna said gently. “Just take it one step at a time.”
—
Dante’s Persistence
Back in his hotel room, Dante stared at his phone, debating whether to call Isla again. Marco sat across from him, watching silently.
“She doesn’t want to see me,” Dante muttered. “She doesn’t even want to talk to me.”
Marco shrugged. “She’s hurt, boss. It’s going to take time for her to trust you again.”
Dante leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “What if she never does? What if I’ve lost her for good?”
Marco’s voice was firm. “Then you keep trying. You don’t give up, not on her and not on your daughter.”
Dante nodded slowly, his resolve hardening. “You’re right. I won’t give up. I’ll find a way to prove to her that I’ve changed.”
—
A Quiet Night
As the moon rose over the cottage, Isla sat on the porch, sipping tea and watching the stars. Amara was asleep in her crib, her soft snores a soothing melody.
Isla thought about Dante, about the look in his eyes when he had asked for a second chance. Part of her wanted to believe him, to hope that he could change. But the other part, the part that had been hurt so many times before, couldn’t take the risk.
She sighed, whispering to the night, “Why can’t things ever just be simple?”
For now, she would focus on Amara, on the life they had built together. Dante might be persistent, but Isla was determined to protect her daughter, no matter what.