The night moved faster than I could have imagined. It became so busy that we did not close the restaurant midway the way Jack had originally planned. The evening shift arrived and took over while the daytime staff headed home. The restaurant remained open until midnight when the last customers finally left.
Jack had stepped behind the bar to help the staff, and I saw him genuinely enjoying himself.
I stood quietly for a moment and looked around the restaurant.
All the sleepless nights.
All the exhausting days.
All the sacrifices and time I had stolen away from Lucas.
It had all been worth it.
This was only the beginning, but deep inside I prayed it would not also become the end.Dear God, please let it continue this way.
17
JIYA
The weekend continued much the same way. The restaurant closed at one in the morning, and customers kept arriving throughout the day. Some came from nearby towns, while others stopped by on their way to Vancouver or Banff. The pool tables quickly became a favourite spot for the university students.
By the end of the weekend, I was completely exhausted.
Being seven months pregnant while spending most of the day on my feet was not easy. My back ached constantly. My legs felt heavy as if I were carrying the weight of the entire day with every step. Despite the exhaustion, however, I felt proud. I knew it would take at least two years before the restaurant would begin generating a real profit, but I remained optimistic about what we had accomplished.
Jack, Will, and I agreed to close the restaurant for the holidays—a mutual decision that felt right for everyone.
That Christmas felt different from the ones I had experienced before.
The holidays were quiet. Lonely.
Lucas and I still followed our traditions. We put up the tree and decorated it during the last week of November while carols played softly in the background. We attended church on Christmas Eve, where the service gave me time to reflect on the people who were still present in my life.
Elle. Jack. Lucas. Geeta. Patty.
I found myself wondering how Patty was doing. I prayed for her, hoping that one day I would be able to see her again and explain everything in person.
Memories of Christmas with Caleb and his family drifted into my thoughts, and for a fleeting moment, I considered driving into the city just to pass by his apartment and catch a glimpse of him from afar. I knew better than to act on it, but the thought alone exposed how deeply I still missed him.
Seeing him on a laptop screen was never the same as feeling his presence beside me, and it felt especially painful knowing that I was carrying half of him inside me. Every week—sometimes every few days—I found myself searching for news about him online, a strange ritual I could not seem to break. Part of me secretly hoped to find proof that he regretted losing me, yet most of the time, the photos simply showed him living his life. Still, knowing he was healthy and safe brought me comfort.
Sometimes, during the holidays, I wondered what he was doing.
Without realizing it, I would reach for the ring hanging from the chain around my neck. I never removed it, not even in the shower. I knew I needed to move on from Caleb, but letting go felt far more complicated. Keeping the ring close to my heart made me feel connected to him—and, perhaps in a way, to the baby as well.
My searchfor my biological parents continued. Weeks passed, but the new website had not produced any results. I tried other search platforms and held onto the fragile hope that maybe this year would be different.
Meanwhile, planning events and marketing promotions for the restaurant kept me busy. The months slipped by quickly.
By February, I had entered my ninth month of pregnancy.
I kept my birthday very mellow that year.
“Happy Birthday, Mama!” Lucas shouted as he burst into my bedroom early that morning.
I smiled and rubbed my eyes as I sat up in bed. “Thank you, baby.”
Lucas wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug before handing me a card.
