<h4>Chapter 46: Revtion and Relief</h4>


    Diane’s POV


    "One final question," Jessica said, leaning forward slightly. "What are your ns after the divorce?"


    I took a deep breath, feeling a strange sense of calm wash over me. 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 ce of my own, focus on my career again. Most importantly, I want to secure the future of my children."


    Jessica nodded thoughtfully. "And the settlement?"


    "I’m fighting for what’s rightfully mine," I replied, one hand resting protectively on my stomach. "Not just for me, 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 women facing simr situations."


    The cameraman lowered his equipment, and Jessica made a cutting motion with her hand. "And we’re clear," she announced, her posture rxing 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 equipment. "This is your story, Diane. I’m just honored you chose to share it with me."


    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 something heavy I’ve been carrying for too long."


    We walked Jessica and her crew to the door, the morning sunlight spilling across the entryway.


    "Remember," I said as Jessica stepped outside, "one week before release? I need that time to—"


    "To prepare, I understand," Jessica finished for me, 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 me 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 me than I’d anticipated, and I sank gratefully into a chair.


    "Your mother will be here soon," Joan reminded me, checking her watch. "Do you want to rest first?"


    I shook my head. "No, I need to keep my momentum. One revtion down, one to go."


    Joan smiled, sliding a mug of tea in front of me. "For the nerves," she exined.


    By eleven-thirty, we’d moved back to the living room. Joan had rearranged things again, returning the furniture to its usual ces. I’d positioned myself on the couch, strategically cing throw pillows to partially obscure my growing belly. Not hiding itpletely—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 onest time, trying to find afortable position that didn’t scream "pregnant" immediately.


    "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 me. "Mom, hi. Thanks foring."


    She crossed the room quickly, bending to embrace me before taking a seat beside me. "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 bing more analytical. "Yes, there’s something... Have you put on a bit of weight?" Her eyes widened immediately. "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 moment I’d been both dreading and longing for.


    "Mom," I said softly, removing the pillow from myp 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 moment, she seemed 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 herest time. I was scared and confused and—"


    "Oh, Diane," my mother interrupted, reaching for me with trembling hands. "My baby girl."


    She pulled me into her arms, and I felt her tears dampening my hair as she held me 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?" Sheughed, 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 butugh at her immediate eptance, 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. "Men, 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 me. "Does Liam know?"


    Before I could answer, Joan stepped forward. "Diane has decided not to tell him just yet," she exined, 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 me 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 ident Joan called me about? Was that Liam’s doing?"


    I exchanged a nce 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 toe immediately," my mother interjected, "but Joan assured me you were okay and that you might not appreciate me 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 ident. A man hit me with his car."


    My mother’s expression transformed instantly from concern to fury. "He WHAT? Some 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 tough at her fierce protectiveness. "He has been wonderful. He took me to the hospital, paid all the bills, and has been helping me fight against Liam."


    Her tirade stopped abruptly, confusion recing anger. "He’s... helping you?"


    I nodded, smiling at her bewilderment. "Yes, he’s be 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 deted now that she had no target for her rage. "Well, that’s... that’s good, I suppose." A momentter, her expression brightened again. "Actually, that’s wonderful! A good man supporting you through this!" She patted my hand approvingly. "I’d like to meet this him someday. Thank him properly for taking care of you."


    Joan and I exchanged amused nces at my mother’s rapid change of heart.


    "There’s something 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 maniption, 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 me, pulling me 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 beforted.