Eclipsed Hearts

Chapter 3

Burying the Past

I couldn’t believe his nerve. The arrogance to think that after everything, I’d be happy to see him. Mark had always been delusional, but this was a new level of absurdity. I’d expected many things when I returned to Lilygrove, but not this. Not him, walking towards me like nothing had happened, like years of heartache had just evaporated with time. He even had that stupid grin on his face—like I should be thrilled to run into him.

I wasn’t.

I felt my body stiffen as he approached, my heart racing, but not from excitement—definitely not from excitement. From fury. From disbelief. From a whirlwind of emotions I thought I had buried a long time ago. The last time we were face-to-face, he’d shattered me. The memory of that day, of him standing in front of the whole school and telling everyone I was nothing more than a bet, still stung like salt in a wound. It had taken every ounce of strength I had to walk away, to build a new life, to find some semblance of peace. And now, here he was, standing in front of me like nothing had changed.

His eyes darted to Frankie, who was holding my hand and bouncing happily on his feet. My heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, I saw something flash in Mark’s expression—recognition, confusion, and something else I couldn’t quite place. But before he could say anything, I quickly gathered myself.

Frankie wasn’t his concern. Frankie was mine. He was my son and mine alone.

I would protect him from the pain I had known. I had spent years keeping my past buried, and I wasn’t going to let Mark—or anyone—bring it back to life. Not now. Not ever.

I pushed down the urge to snap at him, to scream that he had no right to even look at my child. Instead, I just gripped Frankie’s hand a little tighter, drawing strength from his presence. “Come on, sweetie,” I said, my voice strained but calm. “We’re leaving.”

I turned without another word, pulling Frankie along as we walked away. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my mind was racing, flashing back to the moment when everything had changed.

It had been a month since I left Lilygrove, a month since the humiliation, the heartbreak, and the escape. I was at Cambridge, my new life unfolding in front of me, but I felt a lingering emptiness I couldn’t quite shake. I had thrown myself into my studies, trying to focus on the future instead of dwelling on the past. But even with the excitement of starting fresh, something still felt off.

I had begun seeing doctors as soon as I arrived, determined to put the final pieces of my shattered confidence back together. I wanted to erase any physical trace of what had happened to me, the bumps and scars on my face that had changed my life so drastically. My new doctors were incredible. They developed a treatment plan that actually worked. Slowly, the scars faded, and my face began to look more like it used to.

It was during one of those doctor visits that I found out I was pregnant.

I remember sitting in the sterile white office, the doctor’s words echoing in my mind. “You’re pregnant.”

I’d stared at her, speechless, my brain unable to process what she was saying. Pregnant? How could I be pregnant? I had been so careful… hadn’t I? My heart began to race, a thousand thoughts flooding my mind all at once. I felt a mix of panic, disbelief, and fear like nothing I had ever known. I was eighteen. I had just started college. I was supposed to be moving on with my life, leaving the pain of Lilygrove behind me. A baby? A baby was not part of the plan.

But then, as the initial shock began to wear off, something else started to settle in—a strange sense of calm. I didn’t know why or how, but despite everything, a part of me felt… okay. Not ready, but okay. The fear was still there, of course. But alongside it was something else, something warm and unexpected. Maybe it was the idea that this baby was mine—something I could nurture and protect. Something I could love unconditionally, the way I had always wanted to be loved.

I called my parents as soon as I left the doctor’s office. I sat on a bench outside the clinic, staring at the phone in my hand for what felt like hours before I finally dialled the number. I wasn’t sure how they would react—if they’d be angry, disappointed, or upset. But when my mom answered the phone and I blurted out the news, all she said was, “Whatever you decide, Mattie, we’re with you.”

Those words brought tears to my eyes. My parents, for all their flaws and misunderstandings over the years, had always been there for me when it really counted. They told me they loved me, that they’d support me no matter what, and that they trusted me to make the right decision.

After a lot of sleepless nights and endless conversations, I decided to keep the baby. I deferred my studies for a year and moved into a small apartment near campus, determined to make things work. It wasn’t easy, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have moments of doubt—moments when the fear and uncertainty felt overwhelming. But my parents were there every step of the way. They even offered to move overseas for a while to help me take care of Frankie after he was born so I could finish my degree.

Frankie. God, the moment he was born, everything changed. My heart was no longer mine. It belonged to this tiny, perfect human who had turned my world upside down in the best possible way. He had my eyes, and everything else about him was me—that was undeniable. His wild curls, his mischievous smile, his stubborn streak. I was happy he looked so much like me, and he didn't look much like his dad, but one day, I saw something in him that made me realise who his dad was. And even though I didn’t tell my parents everything that had happened with Mark, they never judged me for my choices. They fell in love with Frankie the moment they laid eyes on him, just like I had.

The next few years were a blur of balancing school, work, and motherhood. I finished my degree, earned some experience in the industry, and when my dad asked me to join his company and eventually take over as CEO, I couldn’t refuse. He was getting older, and he wanted me to carry on his legacy, to pass it down to Frankie one day. I knew it was the right thing to do for my family—for my son.

But returning to Lilygrove wasn’t an easy decision. Coming back meant facing my past, something I had spent years trying to avoid. Mark was bad enough—his betrayal had cut me deeper than I’d ever thought possible—but Ryan… Ryan was different. Thinking about him tugged at my heart in a way I still didn’t understand. He had always been there, even when I didn’t ask for it. His protectiveness used to annoy me, but looking back now, I realized it came from a place of care, of loyalty. There had always been something between us, even before we slept together. Something unspoken but undeniable.

After I left, I had thought about reaching out to him. When I found out I was pregnant, I considered telling him everything. I knew he would have been there for me—he would have done whatever it took to support me and the baby, even if it wasn’t his. But something held me back. I didn’t want to drag him into the mess that my life had become. I didn’t want to ruin his future because of my mistakes.

The thought of him moving on had hurt more than I cared to admit, but I couldn’t blame him if he had. I was the one who left. I was the one who disappeared without a word, too scared and ashamed to face what had happened.

And so, I did what I always did. I buried my feelings. I focused on Frankie, on school, on building a life for us. But coming back here—seeing Mark again—had stirred up emotions I had long tried to suppress. It wasn’t just anger or resentment; it was a deep, aching sadness. A reminder of everything I had lost, everything that could have been.

I hadn’t planned on running into Mark so soon after returning to Lilygrove, and seeing him had thrown me off balance. But I couldn’t let him get to me. Not again. I had moved on. I had built a good life for myself and Frankie, and I wasn’t going to let the past drag me down.

As I stood in the kitchen of my parents’ old house, watching Frankie play with his toy cars on the floor, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. This was my life now—just me and my son. I didn’t need anyone else. I had learned how to be strong on my own, how to protect the people I loved, and how to move forward without looking back.

But as much as I wanted to believe that, a part of me couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I ran into Ryan again. Would he still look at me the same way? Would he still care, after all this time? Or had he moved on, like I had tried to convince myself he would?

It didn’t matter, I told myself. I was here for Frankie for my future, not for my past. I had returned to Lilygrove to take on my new role to build something for my son. And no matter what—or who—I faced along the way, I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that.