One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 94: Chapter 94

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon.
The house was unusually quiet—Elijah was at school, Iris was sketching on the porch, Jonah had gone with a friend to the library. Arielle had just finished a tense video call and was still rubbing her temples when a soft giggle floated through the kitchen.
She looked up.
Lily sat on the floor, legs sprawled like a doll’s, gnawing on a plastic spoon and watching Arielle with wide, gleaming eyes. Her curls were a mess, her cheeks flushed, her dress rumpled from her constant wriggling.
Arielle smiled despite herself. “What are you giggling at, little bean?”
Lily dropped the spoon. Her face lit up, and she clapped once, then opened her mouth and said it—clear, confident, and unmistakable:
“Mama.”
The world stopped.
Arielle blinked. Her breath hitched. “What did you say?”
Lily beamed and clapped again. “Mama!”
It was followed by a small laugh—her first real laugh. High-pitched, musical, completely free of sorrow. Pure joy in a single sound.
Arielle sank to her knees.
And then the tears came.
She didn’t mean to cry so hard. But the word—Mama—was a floodgate. It carried with it the pain of every sleepless night, every lonely moment, every time she had doubted if she was enough. And it carried memory.
A memory of Damien.
She had been terrified when Lily was born. Not because of complications—though there were a few—but because she hadn’t known if she had enough love left to give.
Damien had held her hand in the hospital room, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. “You’ve never run out of love,” he’d whispered. “It only grows with every child.”
When Lily cried for the first time, he’d been the first to laugh—loud, shocked, euphoric.
“That’s our girl,” he’d said. “She’s got lungs.”
He had held her with such reverence.
“I’ll teach her how to throw a punch,” he’d joked. “And how to cry with dignity.”
Now Arielle reached for her daughter, scooping her into her arms and pressing her face against Lily’s neck.
“You said my name,” she whispered. “You said it, baby.”
Lily wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.
And in that moment, it wasn’t about loss.
It was about legacy.
Arielle stood with Lily and carried her through the house, pointing to photos on the wall.
“That’s your daddy,” she whispered, showing Lily a frame where Damien held Iris high in the air. “And that’s you in my tummy. He never got to hear you say his name. But he heard you laugh.”
Lily reached for the photo and patted it gently. “Mama.”
Arielle smiled through tears. “Yes, sweetheart. Mama’s here.”
That evening, the whole house gathered for dinner. And Arielle, with Lily on her lap, shared the news.
“She said her first word.”
“What was it?” Elijah asked, eyes brightening.
Arielle looked down at her daughter, who giggled again, then looked up at her mother and repeated, “Mama.”
The room broke into cheers and laughter.
And in the center of it, surrounded by the pieces of the man she loved and the family she carried, Arielle felt something she hadn’t in a long time:
Peace.