Chapter 10
JIYA
The weekend arrived. On Saturday, the doorbell rang just as Lucas and I finished breakfast.
“Is this my surprise, Mama?” he asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“I don’t know. Let’s check it out,” I said nonchalantly, even though I knew what waited on the other side of the door.
I walked toward the door and opened it.
Lucas let out a scream.
Oreo, who had been standing behind us, was startled and began barking.
“It’s Noah! It’s Noah!” Lucas shouted.
Both the boys jumped together in excitement, their laughter filling the doorway. Seeing them so happy pushed everything else out of my mind—the stress, the loneliness, the uncertainty. It was impossible not to smile when Lucas looked that happy.
“Wow,” Karl exclaimed as he looked me up and down. “You look amazing for six months. I can’t believe you’re pregnant.”
“Yes, sometimes neither can I,” I said with a small laugh as I hugged him.
Even now, some days, the reality of it still surprised me. There were moments when I still caught myself forgetting for half a second, until a movement in my belly or a wave of exhaustion reminded me that my whole life was changing again.
A week after moving to Cowichan Bay, while Lucas was still at camp, I drove down with Oreo to surprise Elle. During that visit, I told her everything—about Jeremy, the kidnapping, Caleb and me being shot, and the photographs his mother had shown me.
Elle gasped in shock, and by the time I finished, she was in tears.
“So much has happened, and you’re telling me all of this now?”
“I couldn’t risk anything happening to you, Donna, or your families because of me,” I said, holding her shoulders. “I’m sorry, but I had to stay away.”
She hugged me tightly. “Does Donna know anything?”
“No,” I replied immediately. “And I want to keep it that way. The fewer people who know, the safer everyone will be—especially Caleb. I need this to stay between you and me. Promise me.”
“I promise,” she said softly. “But why?”
“Because I’m pregnant.”
Elle stepped back in shock. “Does Caleb know?”
I shook my head.
“You still want the baby after what he did?”
“I still love him,” I admitted quietly. “As hurt as I am, I can’t imagine not having his child. And I don’t want anything from him. He lost the right to know when he chose to stay with Caroline.”
She hugged me again, her voice filled with concern. “What happens if you run into him someday? How will you hide your pregnancy?”
“I’ve moved,” I said. “I don’t live in that apartment—or even in this city anymore.”
Her eyes widened. “Where?”
“Cowichan Bay.”
“Cow what? Where in God’s name is that?”
“Vancouver Island.”
Elle groaned. “You’re trying to give me a heart attack today.”
“I’m sorry,” I said gently. “Save my new number. If anyone asks about me, tell them you don’t know anything. Just text me, and I’ll call you back.”
As she entered my number into her phone, Caleb’s words echoed in my mind. Trust me, if you were to ever disappear… I’d find you.
Would he really look for me?
I doubted it.
His mother, on the other hand, might try to make sure I stayed far away from her son, and I needed to protect my family from her.
“I can’t believe you won’t be here anymore,” Elle whispered.
“You have to trust me,” I said, handing her tissues. “Promise me you won’t say anything.”
“I promise.”
She walked me to the car, then paused. “You said you changed your name when you came to the city. What was your name before Nyah?”
No one had ever asked me that before. “Jiya Flores.”
“Jiya,” Elle repeated with a small smile. “I like it, but I’ll call you Jiji. Best friend privileges.”
Snapping back to the present, I made sure sightseeing was at the top of my weekend plans with Elle and her family. I wanted to explore the village properly and understand everything it had to offer—especially now that I was a business owner.
Over the next two days, we visited several tourist spots around the village. Elle captured countless pictures of all of us along the way.
It felt wonderful having them there.
Cooking meals together, watching the children play, and sharing stories from the past brought back memories that I cherished deeply.
It almost felt like life had returned to the way it once was.
There was still a sadness beneath it all, a shared awareness that too much had changed for any of us to truly go backward.
When the weekend ended, Elle promised to send me copies of all the pictures she had taken. Karl stood beside her, comforting his weeping wife, while I reassured her that we would see each other soon.
Lucas and I stood at the end of the driveway waving goodbye as their car pulled away.
He looked up at me with his lips turned downward. “Will they come again to visit us?” he asked quietly.
I knelt beside him and wrapped my arms around him. “They will, honey. I promise you. They will come soon.” I lifted him into my arms and turned around.
That was when I saw my angry neighbour staring at us from his front porch while drinking.
The intensity of his gaze made me pause.
Thinking that maybe introducing Lucas might help soften whatever tension existed between us, I decided to try again.
I walked toward him with Lucas in my arms and Oreo trotting beside me.
I smiled politely.
He looked at me for a brief second, then stood up, walked inside his house, and slammed the door shut.
I blinked at the closed door. Hmm… this could take a while.
I turned around and headed back inside my house with Lucas and Oreo.
Locking the door behind me had become an automatic reflex ever since I moved away from Manitoba. Jeremy, my foster father, had destroyed a part of my youth.
He had stalked me.
He had threatened to hurt Lucas.
He had kidnapped Caleb’s nieces.
He had shot Caleb and me.
Even now, the memories still made my stomach twist. Sometimes I wondered what would have happened to Lucas if I had died that day while trying to rescue the girls. What if something had happened to Caleb? Or worse… what if something had happened to those little girls?
A chill ran down my spine as I thought about it.
Fear of Jeremy still lived inside me, even though he was gone. Some wounds took longer to heal than others. Death did not always kill fear. Sometimes it left fear behind to live on inside the people who survived.
Deciding that ice cream would make the evening better, Lucas immediately agreed. We sat together later that night, eating our ice cream, slowly letting the sadness fade as we talked about the wonderful weekend we had just spent with our friends.
The next day at the restaurant, curiosity got the better of me. “Do you know anything about the man who used to sit at the corner table at the restaurant?” I asked Jack.
Jack raised his eyebrows slightly. “Just a bit,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, he’s my neighbour,” I said. “I was just wondering about him. I tried talking to him a couple of times, just to be friendly and know my neighbour, but he didn’t seem interested in conversation.”
“Hmm,” Jack said thoughtfully while standing beside me.
“Leave him be. He has been through a lot of personal turmoil and tragedy. He lost his wife and daughter in a plane crash in Nepal while they were vacationing about two years ago. He was supposed to join them a day later, but instead he returned home with their coffins.”
“Oh gosh.”
The words left my mouth in a whisper.
His behaviour now made sense.
A cold sensation spread through my chest. My eyes squeezed shut for a moment as the weight of that tragedy sank into my stomach.
He must still be grieving. He must carry unbearable guilt.
I could only imagine the agony he felt. I did not know why, but something inside me felt drawn toward him.
Maybe it was because I had initially thought he was simply a sad drunk. Maybe it was because I carried my own share of heartache and understood what grief could do to a person. Maybe it was because none of the neighbours had ever mentioned anything about him.
Now I understood why.
A couple of days later, when I parked my car in the driveway, I saw him sitting outside his house again.
For a moment, I hesitated.
Then I decided to try once more.
Oreo walked beside me as I approached him.
This would be the fifth time I had attempted to speak with him. The previous times, he had either nodded, grunted, or simply walked away.
“Hi!” I said, hoping for at least a small response.
Instead, he crossed his arms against his body and narrowed his blue eyes at me.
I cleared my throat. “I just came to apologize.”
His jaw tightened as he spoke. “Why would you do that?”
It was the first time I had ever heard his voice.
It was deep, mellifluous, and carried a noticeable Australian accent.
“Because I took your hangout spot away,” I said with a small smile. “But don’t worry. The restaurant will be up and running before you know it.”
Without saying another word, he stood up and walked into his house.
I remained standing there, staring at the closed door. Well. The fifth time was definitely not the charm.