Chapter 6
CHAPTER
SIX
KRAVEN
I should’ve expected it, though nothing could have prepared me for what I walked into the following day. The door shut behind me with a muted click, the sound carrying further than it should have. I didn’t move right away. I didn’t call out. I didn’t announce myself.
Instead, I just stood there.
Listening.
The air felt heavier. It was charged in a way that didn’t come from noise, but from restraint. My gaze shifted across the living room and landed on the couch.
Then I saw them…
Her bags.
They were packed, though they weren’t half-zipped or thrown together either. They were neat and organized with purpose. This was planned out. It wasn’t reckless.
A slow exhale left me through my nose as I stepped farther inside the house, my body tensing just a little before I forced it to relax.
I dropped my keys on the counter with a clink, the sound slicing through the silence in the open space. My eyes flicked once toward the hallway. No movement, but she was there. She had to be. I could still feel her through my internal wave of emotions.
Besides, if she really had left, her bags wouldn’t be sitting there like a statement.
They were a warning.
This was a test.
I rolled my shoulders back, loosening the tension that had settled there the moment I saw her bags. If Isla wanted a confrontation, then she’d get one.
I’m not Julius.
A faint sound came from down the hall. It was barely there, but it was enough. My attention sharpened instantly, locking onto her before she fully stepped into view.
Kitty… my little black cat.
She stepped slowly at first as if she’d been waiting just out of sight, listening for the exact moment I walked in.
When her gaze found mine, I glanced at her bags, then back at her. Her expression was different tonight, and it was the first thing I noticed about her.
It was less chaotic.
We stood there staring at each other for a few moments. The distance between us was thick with all the stuff we hadn’t said yet.
I played my role, stating the obvious, “If you were really going to leave me, you wouldn’t have waited for me to catch you doing it.”
Her reaction was instant, bracing herself. “This has nothing to do with you catching me, Kraven.” Her voice was sharp and steady. “And everything to do with the fact that I’m not like your family.”
There it was.
Clean. Direct. Intentional.
The hit landed exactly where she wanted it to.
My heart.
Except I didn’t react. This wasn’t about me.
“I won’t leave in the middle of the night and not come back,” she spoke, taking a small step forward. “I’m not going to disappear without saying anything. I’m not—” She swallowed hard before forcing the rest out. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you. I can’t be here anymore, not without Julius.”
Bye.
Not talk.
Not figure it out.
“That’s all this is about, Kraven.”
I watched her carefully. She believed what she was saying.
“You packed everything,” I observed. Pushing off the counter, I took a step toward the center of the room. “That’s not a goodbye. That’s a decision.”
“It is a decision,” she agreed. “I’m leaving.”
Her voice didn’t falter, but her fingers tightened slightly at her sides. When she moved toward the couch, she snatched one of the bags, pulling it toward her.
I didn’t move to stop her.
Not yet.
“You’re not ready for that.”
Her head snapped up. “You don’t get to decide what I’m ready for.”
“No,” I agreed, my tone calm, almost conversational. “But I do get to recognize when you’re making a move you can’t sustain.”
Determination flashed through her eyes. “I’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
The word landed harder than anything else I’d said. She froze just for a fraction of a second, but I saw it.
“I’ll find somewhere.” Her voice tightened. “I’ll… I’ll figure something out. I always have.”
“You’ve had all day to figure it out, and you still haven’t.”
She gripped her bag. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It at least means you don’t have a plan.”
“I don’t need one,” she snapped. “I just need to go.”
I tilted my head, studying her. “No,” I said quietly. “You need somewhere to land.”
My words settled into the space between us.
“I’m not staying here.”
“You’re not ready to leave.”
Her eyes burned into mine. “Watch me.” She grabbed her other bag, moving toward the door, but this time, I budged.
In a strangled tone, I coaxed, “Kitty.”
She turned cautiously, her expression already softening. “I’m not doing this with you.” Her voice strained now, adding, “I’m not standing here while you try to talk me into staying.”
“I’m not talking you into anything. I’m just stating facts. But let’s call a spade a spade, Kitty. If you really think I’m going to let you walk out that door, then you don’t know me at all.”
“You’re absolutely right, Kraven.” She dropped her bags to the floor, getting in my face. “I don’t know who you are, which is why I can’t stay here with you anymore. I can’t play house in a home that’s become anything but that. You took that away the second you called the cops.”
“Kitty…”
“Stop it.”
“I’m just reminding you of reality.”
Her laugh came out sharp. “Reality?” she echoed. “You mean your version of it?”
“No, the version you’re trying to ignore.”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “I’m not ignoring anything.”
I didn’t falter and spoke with conviction. “I love you and my baby.”
My words didn’t just hit, they assaulted.
I saw it.
Felt it.
The way her body reacted before her mind could catch up, swallowing the whole room. Her breath caught, stiff and uneven, while her hand instinctively slid to her stomach.
“You don’t get to use this baby against me.” Her tone trembled low.
“I’m not using it against you. I’m just telling you the truth.”
“No, you’re using it as a weapon and trying to trap me here.”
“You can’t just leave me and hope it works out.”
“We don’t even know if it’s yours.”
There it was. The lifeline she was holding on to, creating the space she needed to keep between us.
I didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
Her eyes locked onto mine.
“I know.”
“That’s not how this works.” Her tone shook. “You don’t just know something like that.”
“I do.”
“How?” she demanded. “How could you possibly know that?”
Her breath hitched, and her entire body went still.
“You don’t—”
“I do,” I repeated, unwavering.
Her eyes dropped to her stomach. “I can’t stay here,” she murmured.
“You can.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Maybe not.”
Her eyes lifted to mine again. “Then why are you making me?”
“I’m not making you. I’m just giving you a reality you can actually survive.”
Tears slipped down her cheeks, quiet and steady. “I hate this,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
Her eyes closed briefly, and when she opened them, the fight in her was long gone. She didn’t have anywhere else to go, and that was honestly my saving grace. She was so mad at me, and I deserved it.
Her hand stayed on her stomach, holding something bigger than this moment. It was bigger than Julius. Bigger than me.
It was what kept her there with me. Now she wasn’t just thinking about herself, and she knew it. Even if she hated every second of it, I watched it settle over her.
The weight.
The acceptance she didn’t want.
The decision she hadn’t said out loud but had already made.
She wasn’t leaving.
Not tonight, not like this, and maybe not at all.
Not when she finally understood that a baby was growing inside her.
Which was all that mattered to me.