Billionaire's lost heir

Chapter 4 – The Stranger Who Stayed

Chapter 4 – The Stranger Who Stayed

****Lara’s POV****

It’s strange how silence becomes a companion when you’ve lost everything.

The nights after Ethan left were the hardest. I used to lie awake in my tiny apartment, listening to the city breathe outside — cars, laughter, the occasional storm — and wonder if he ever thought of me when the world went quiet.

For a while, I tried to forget him.

I threw myself into work, took double shifts, saved every peso I could. I told myself I didn’t need him. That maybe it was better this way. That love — the kind that makes you dream — wasn’t meant for people like me.

And then he came along.

His name was Adrian Cruz — a man with soft eyes and an easy smile. He came into the café one morning while I was serving coffee, just like Ethan once did. But where Ethan carried mystery, Adrian carried warmth. He was the kind of person who made everyone around him laugh. He listened, remembered small details, made life seem… lighter.

“Coffee for a tired soul,” he joked on his first visit.

I smiled faintly, pouring his drink. “We have plenty of those here.”

He kept coming back. Day after day, week after week. At first, I thought he was just being friendly. But one afternoon, he stayed until closing time and said, “You always look like you’re carrying the world on your shoulders. Let someone carry a little of it for you.”

I didn’t know how to answer that.

No one had said something that kind to me since Ethan.

He never pried about my past. Never asked about the pain behind my smiles. And maybe that was why I let him in. Slowly. Carefully. Against every instinct telling me not to.

Because at that time, I was tired of being alone.

---

Months passed, and Adrian became a constant — picking me up after work, helping me with groceries, fixing things around my small apartment. He was patient, gentle, funny in quiet ways.

It wasn’t love — not yet — but it was comfort.

And sometimes, comfort feels safer than love.

Then one night, as the rain poured outside, he showed up soaked from head to toe, holding takeout and two cups of coffee.

“I didn’t want you to eat alone,” he said with that boyish grin.

Something inside me softened.

Maybe, I thought, people really could start over.

---

****Ethan’s POV****

It had been almost a year since I saw her last.

But there wasn’t a single day I didn’t think of her.

I tried to focus on work — my father’s empire, his endless demands, the business that was supposed to fill the hollow he’d carved inside me. But every boardroom, every speech, every deal felt empty. Because in the end, money couldn’t buy back what I’d lost.

I still carried her photo in my wallet — a small, worn-out print of her laughing at the café counter. Sometimes, I’d look at it when no one was watching. Remind myself that once, I had something real.

Then one evening, I saw her.

I wasn’t supposed to. I was driving through the city when I spotted her walking down the street — umbrella in hand, another man beside her. She was smiling. Laughing.

And just like that, the world went silent.

The man touched her shoulder gently, guiding her away from the puddles. She looked up at him the way she used to look at me.

I told myself to drive away.

But I couldn’t.

Because the truth hit harder than I expected:

She was gone. And I had no one to blame but myself.

---

Lara’s POV

Adrian and I grew closer after that night.

He was kind — almost too kind. When I was sick, he took care of me. When I was sad, he listened. He talked about the future, about finding stability, about wanting to build a family someday.

And part of me wanted to believe him. To believe that maybe fate was giving me another chance.

But sometimes, when he held me, I’d still think of Ethan.

Of how it felt to be truly seen.

I pushed those thoughts away. The past was a wound that needed to heal, and Adrian — he was the balm I told myself I needed.

Then one morning, I realized I was late.

Two weeks late.

I bought a test. And when the result appeared, my hands trembled so hard I almost dropped it.

Positive.

I sat there on the bathroom floor, staring at that tiny strip of plastic, feeling the world tilt around me.

A child. My child.

I didn’t know what to feel — joy, fear, confusion.

All I knew was that my life would never be the same again.

When I told Adrian, he was quiet for a long time.

Then he smiled and said, “We’ll make it work, Lara. I’ll take care of both of you.”

His words should’ve comforted me. But something in his voice made my stomach twist — a softness that felt rehearsed, a calm that didn’t reach his eyes.

I brushed it off, blaming my nerves.

But deep down, something in me whispered that the storm hadn’t ended.

It was only beginning.