The Mafia's Bride

Chapter 30

Hayat's POV

Galápagos Islands

When the plane touched down on the island, the air felt different—warm, salty, wild in a way my heart hadn't felt in years. As if every breeze whispered, Start over.

I stepped out with my small suitcase and a notebook tucked under my arm. Behind me was everything I knew—everything I was running from, everything that still hurt. Ahead of me was nothing... which made it strangely comforting.

The first morning I woke up here, the sun slipped through the curtains like it knew I needed soft light, not harsh brightness. The air smelled of sea salt and warm bread from the bakery across the street. For the first time in weeks, my chest didn't feel heavy.

I told myself I came here to write...
But truly, I came to stop remembering him.

So I pushed myself out of the tiny rented room and walked into the little bakery owned by Señora Camila, a round, warm woman with laugh lines deeper than any wrinkles I'd ever seen.

She looked me up and down, noticed the exhaustion I tried to hide, and said,
"You look like someone who needs work... and bread."

I laughed for the first time in days.

And that's how I got my job.

I started learning the rhythm of the place — the oven's hum, the clatter of metal trays, the sweet smell of cinnamon that stuck to my hair. Camila taught me how to braid dough for challah, how to frost cupcakes without making them look like melting snowmen, and how to handle customers with a smile even when I wanted to scream into the mixing bowl.

Sometimes I caught her staring at me, like she was trying to figure out what I was running from. She never asked.

Maybe that's why I liked her

I met Luna on my third day — a girl around my age with short, curly hair dyed ocean–blue at the ends. She was loud, clumsy, and unapologetically curious. The kind of person who talked like she was skipping between thoughts.

"You're new," she said, leaning on the counter. "And you look like you think too much. We should be friends."

Just like that.
No effort.
No heavy questions.

We started exploring the island together after my shifts — the quiet coves, the hidden trails, the places where crabs scattered like red confetti when we walked by.

She'd talk about her dream of becoming a marine photographer.
I'd talk about writing, carefully avoiding anything that sounded like love, heartbreak, or him.

And she never pushed.
She just listened.

I tried everything — baking, writing, cleaning my room even when it wasn't dirty. Anything to keep my mind from drifting to Hazar.

But nights were the hardest.

The bakery quieted down. The sea got louder. The silence inside me widened.

I would sit at my tiny desk, fingers hovering over my notebook, trying to write romance again...
but every line felt hollow.

Still, I wrote.

About strangers falling in love.
About girls braver than me.
About boys who didn't leave scars on the hearts they touched.

I told myself it was healing.

Sometimes it felt like lying.

We spent evenings watching blue–footed boobies dance, laughing at their clumsy steps. We collected shells, ran from iguanas, shared coconut ice cream. Sometimes she'd drag me to local gatherings where tourists played music on the beach, and we'd sit by the fire until midnight.

Little by little, the island stitched pieces of me back together.

Not perfectly.
Not completely.
But enough that I could breathe again.

Enough that when I lay in bed at night, thinking of the letter I left behind and the man who must've found it by now...
my heart hurt a little less.

I placed my hands on my belly, feeling the presence of something—someone—now living inside me.

"Hey, baby," I whispered, my voice trembling as the tears gathered. "How are you doing today? Are you tired?"

A warm tear slipped down my cheek, then another. Soon they were rolling freely.

"I feel bad," I choked out. "What kind of mother am I? Running away like this?"
My breath hitched.
"But what option do I have? I can't lose you. I can't lose you like I've lost everything else. And being with him... being with him means risking everything all over again."

The tears soaked my pillow, hot and endless, as memories rushed back—the chaos, the fear, the crash, and then—

Flashback

"Miss Hayat," the doctor said softly, adjusting the light above me.
"Does it hurt a lot? I know we can't give you high doses of painkillers in your condition."

I blinked, confused, exhausted.
"M–my condition...?"

The doctor gave me a small, relieved smile.

"You should thank the Almighty," she said gently.
"He saved your child from this accident. That's nothing less than a miracle."

The world froze.

All the noise, the pain, the shouting, the heartbreak—it fell away.
Only one sentence echoed in my head:

He saved your child.

My hand slipped away from the memory as if it burned.

Flashback end**

I blinked, staring at the ceiling of my small room in the Galápagos, the wooden fan turning slowly above me. The doctor's voice still echoed in my head like it was stitched into my bones.

"He saved your child."

A miracle, they called it.
But miracles came with consequences.

I exhaled shakily, wiping my cheeks with trembling fingers. My pillow was already damp, my hair sticking to my face.

I placed my palm over my belly again — gently, protectively. Just the thought that something so small, so fragile survived everything I went through... it undid me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice cracking like thin glass.
"I'm so, so sorry I brought you into such a broken world."

A tiny kick fluttered under my hand — a soft, surprising tap.

My breath hitched.

"You heard me," I murmured, tears falling again but softer this time. "It's okay... I'm here. I'm here, baby."

The wind pushed through the window, brushing the curtains aside. Outside, the ocean whispered against the rocks, so calm, so different from the storm I left behind.

"This is why I ran," I confessed in a whisper, my thumb rubbing small circles against my skin. "I wanted peace. For you. For us. Not bullets. Not lies. Not blood."

My chest tightened painfully.

"I didn't leave because I stopped loving him," I admitted, voice trembling. "I left because I loved you more."

And that truth...
hurt more than all the others.

The moonlight pooled over the bed, gentle and cool. I curled onto my side, hugging the pillow with one arm and cradling my belly with the other.

"Maybe one day..."
My voice was barely a breath now.
"...maybe one day he'll understand."

I pressed a soft kiss to my palm and laid it back over the tiny heartbeat inside me.

"Good night, baby," I whispered, eyes stinging.
"We're safe now. That's all that matters."

And for the first time since I left everything behind...
I slept.

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Hey everyone sorry for writing so late and little
But i had my sessional going on and my end semester exam are going in rn do vote and comment