Diane’s POV
"One final question," Jessica said, leaning forward slightly. "What are your plans after the divorce?"
I took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over . For months, my life had been dictated by Liam’s actions, by his betrayal, by my reactions to his cruelty. But now, finally, I was taking control of my own narrative.
"I want to start over," I said, my voice steady and clear. "Get a place of my own, focus on my career again. Most importantly, I want to secure the future of my children."
Jessica nodded thoughtfully. "And the settlent?"
"I’m fighting for what’s rightfully mine," I replied, one hand resting protectively on my stomach. "Not just for , but for my babies. I need enough to give them the life they deserve, the security they deserve. After what Liam has done, I won’t settle for less."
Jessica smiled, warm and genuine. "Thank you, Diane, for sharing your story with us. Your courage will inspire many won facing similar situations."
The caraman lowered his equipnt, and Jessica made a cutting motion with her hand. "And we’re clear," she announced, her posture relaxing slightly.
"That was perfect," she said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. "Really powerful stuff."
I exhaled slowly, the tension of the past hour finally releasing its grip on my shoulders. "Thank you for handling it so... sensitively."
"Of course," Jessica replied, standing as her crew began packing up their equipnt. "This is your story, Diane. I’m just honored you chose to share it with ."
Joan approached, her expression a mixture of pride and concern. "How are you feeling?" she asked quietly.
"Lighter," I admitted, surprised by the truth of it. "Like I’ve set down sothing heavy I’ve been carrying for too long."
We walked Jessica and her crew to the door, the morning sunlight spilling across the entryway.
"Rember," I said as Jessica stepped outside, "one week before release? I need that ti to—"
"To prepare, I understand," Jessica finished for , her expression professional but kind. "I’ll be in touch before we publish anything. And Diane?" She paused, her gaze intense. "What you did today took real courage. Not many would have that strength."
I nodded, grateful for her understanding. "I’ll be in touch about the release date."
As Joan closed the door behind them, I leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. "Well, that’s done," I whispered.
Joan pulled into a tight hug. "You were magnificent," she said fiercely. "Absolutely magnificent."
We retreated to the kitchen, where Joan made us both tea. The morning had taken more out of than I’d anticipated, and I sank gratefully into a chair.
"Your mother will be here soon," Joan reminded , checking her watch. "Do you want to rest first?"
I shook my head. "No, I need to keep my montum. One revelation down, one to go."
Joan smiled, sliding a mug of tea in front of . "For the nerves," she explained.
By eleven-thirty, we’d moved back to the living room. Joan had rearranged things again, returning the furniture to its usual places. I’d positioned myself on the couch, strategically placing throw pillows to partially obscure my growing belly. Not hiding it completely—I was done with hiding—but softening the reveal.
When the doorbell rang at noon, I felt my heart rate quicken again. This was, in many ways, even more daunting than the interview.
Joan went to answer the door while I adjusted the pillows one last ti, trying to find a comfortable position that didn’t scream "pregnant" imdiately.
"Diane?" my mother’s voice called, and I looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her expression warm but concerned.
I smiled, gesturing for her to join . "Mom, hi. Thanks for coming."
She crossed the room quickly, bending to embrace before taking a seat beside . "Of course, honey. Your call sounded important."
Her eyes studied my face, searching for clues. "How are you feeling? You look..."
"Different?" I said, watching her expression carefully.
She tilted her head, her gaze becoming more analytical. "Yes, there’s sothing... Have you put on a bit of weight?" Her eyes widened imdiately. "Not that there’s anything wrong with that! You look lovely. Glowing, actually."
I took a deep breath, my fingers tightening around the edge of the throw pillow. This was it—the mont I’d been both dreading and longing for.
"Mom," I said softly, removing the pillow from my lap to reveal my rounded belly. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about."
Her eyes dropped to my stomach, widening in shock. For a mont, she seed frozen, unable to process what she was seeing.
"I’m pregnant," I continued, my voice breaking slightly. "With twins."
Tears welled in my mother’s eyes, and for a horrifying second, I couldn’t read her expression. Was she angry? Disappointed?
"Mom, I’m so sorry," I rushed on, feeling tears spill down my own cheeks. "I should have told you sooner. I was already a few weeks along when you were here last ti. I was scared and confused and—"
"Oh, Diane," my mother interrupted, reaching for with trembling hands. "My baby girl."
She pulled into her arms, and I felt her tears dampening my hair as she held close. When she pulled back, I was stunned to see she was smiling through her tears.
"You’re not angry?" I whispered, hardly daring to believe it.
She shook her head vigorously. "Angry? How could I be angry about my grandchildren?" She laughed, the sound caught between a sob and a chuckle. "Twins! Oh, my goodness, twins!"
Her hands moved hesitantly toward my belly. "May I?"
I nodded, guiding her hands to where the babies were most active. As if on cue, one of them tapped against her palm.
My mother gasped, her eyes widening with wonder. "Oh! They’re strong!" She stroked my belly gently, her expression softening. "Hello in there, little ones. It’s your grandma."
I couldn’t help but laugh at her imdiate acceptance, her joy breaking through all my anxieties.
"Is Liam the father?" she asked suddenly, her expression clouding slightly.
I nodded, watching her face carefully. "Yes, they’re his."
She snorted, her expression turning indignant. "And that fool is out there fooling around with your sister? Not knowing the blessing he has right here?" She shook her head in disgust. "n, I swear."
Joan, who had been watching from the doorway, chuckled at my mother’s outburst. "That’s what I said, Ma’am."
My mother turned to acknowledge Joan with a grateful smile. "Thank you for taking care of my girl, Joan." Her expression turned serious again as she looked back at . "Does Liam know?"
Before I could answer, Joan stepped forward. "Diane has decided not to tell him just yet," she explained, her tone carefully neutral.
I expected my mother to object, to insist on traditional family values despite everything. Instead, she nodded firmly. "Good. I wouldn’t trust that man with this information right now. Not after what he’s done." Her expression darkened. "If Liam can stoop so low as to cheat with your own sister, then he’s capable of anything. The less he knows, the better."
Relief washed over at her understanding. "That’s exactly how I feel," I admitted. "I need to protect myself—and them—until the divorce is finalized."
My mother’s eyes narrowed suddenly. "What about that accident Joan called about? Was that Liam’s doing?"
I exchanged a glance with Joan, who looked apologetic. "You called my mother?" I asked, not upset but surprised.
Joan shrugged. "You were unconscious, Diane. I was scared."
"I wanted to co imdiately," my mother interjected, "but Joan assured you were okay and that you might not appreciate being bothered about it." She frowned. "Was it Liam? Did he try to hurt you?"
"No, Mom, it wasn’t Liam," I said quickly. "It was an accident. A man hit with his car."
My mother’s expression transford instantly from concern to fury. "He WHAT? So man hit my pregnant daughter with his car?" She was on her feet now, pacing the living room like an angry lioness. "Where is this man? I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands! Trying to kill my baby and my grandbabies—"
"Mom!" I interrupted, trying not to laugh at her fierce protectiveness. "He has been wonderful. He took to the hospital, paid all the bills, and has been helping fight against Liam."
Her tirade stopped abruptly, confusion replacing anger. "He’s... helping you?"
I nodded, smiling at her bewildernt. "Yes, he’s beco a... friend. An ally. He has his own reasons for disliking Liam, and he’s been invaluable."
"Oh." My mother sat back down, looking slightly deflated now that she had no target for her rage. "Well, that’s... that’s good, I suppose." A mont later, her expression brightened again. "Actually, that’s wonderful! A good man supporting you through this!" She patted my hand approvingly. "I’d like to et this him soday. Thank him properly for taking care of you."
Joan and I exchanged amused glances at my mother’s rapid change of heart.
"There’s sothing else," I said, deciding to capitalize on her current good mood. "I had a reporter here this morning. Jessica from the Daily Chronicle."
My mother’s eyebrows shot up. "A reporter? What for?"
I took a deep breath. "I told her everything, Mom. About Liam’s affair with Sophie, about the financial manipulation, about the pregnancy. I’m taking control of my story before Liam can twist it any further."
I expected shock, maybe even disapproval. Instead, my mother leaned forward and wrapped her arms around , pulling close. "I’m here for you, honey," she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. "All the way."
I felt tears spring to my eyes as she gently stroked my hair, just as she had done when I was a little girl. Her unconditional support was a balm to my wounded heart.
"Thank you, Mom," I whispered back, allowing myself to be held, to be comforted.
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