One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 110: Chapter 110

The storm had quieted—at least on the surface.
A week had passed since Damien’s return, yet every moment still felt like a surreal dream Arielle didn’t dare wake from. Nights were gentler now, with his hand tucked protectively over hers, both silent as they listened to the rhythm of the house—children breathing, wind kissing the windows, time slowing down.
It was one of those nights.
The fireplace flickered low in their bedroom, casting soft shadows across Damien’s healing body. Scars dotted his skin—marks of chains, of hunger, of survival.
Arielle walked in, hair still damp from a late shower, wearing one of Damien’s old sweaters stretched at the front.
He noticed.
His gaze dropped, widened.
His heart skipped.
She walked to the edge of the bed, eyes glassy.
“I was going to wait longer,” she whispered, voice thick.
Damien sat up slowly.
“I found out the day Elijah left. I couldn’t tell him—not with the weight he was carrying. I was going to tell you when you came back... but you didn’t.”
He reached for her hand. Held it like it might vanish.
Her other hand lifted and gently guided his palm to her abdomen.
Silence.
Then...
A flutter.
A kick.
Alive.
Damien gasped.
And broke.
Tears streamed down his cheeks as he bent forward, forehead pressed to her belly.
“I thought... I thought I’d never get to know this one,” he whispered. “I thought I’d die never hearing this heartbeat. Never feeling this.”
She ran her fingers through his hair, crying too.
“You’re here now.”
“I missed everything, Ari. The cravings. The first flutter. The nursery plans. I—”
“You haven’t missed what matters.”
He pulled her down beside him, arms around her waist, one hand still guarding her stomach like a shield.
They lay there, tears soaking into the shared silence, bodies molded in grief, reunion, and love.
Later, Arielle sat on the floor of the nursery, showing Damien the soft toys she’d picked out. Each had a story.
“This blanket was Lily’s favorite. Now it’s this baby’s turn.”
He picked it up, fingers trembling.
“She was so small,” he murmured. “I barely remember...”
“You were there. You sang her name over and over until she stopped crying.”
Damien looked up.
“I’m scared.”
“So am I.”
“But we’re doing this together.”
He leaned over, placed another kiss to her belly.
“I promise. I’ll be here.”
Downstairs, Jonah peeked in.
He saw the glow in Arielle’s face. The awe in Damien’s eyes.
He smiled for the first time in days.
And upstairs, Iris sketched a new portrait—a baby cradled by a man whose eyes finally looked alive.