Emily's POV
Louis had gone to get some dinner at the hospital cafeteria. I was left twiddling my thumbs and staring at the IV in my hand like it magically held all the answers to my problems.
I was startled when Dr. Anderson came into the room. She had been so nice to me; I felt bad for being so distant towards her.
“Hey, Emily. How are you feeling?”
I attempted a smile and looked her in the eye as I said, “I’m feeling okay. Better. Do you have those test results?”
She nodded, and I was confused by her cheery expression until she said, “Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”
Pregnant. I’m pregnant.
My heart raced with mixed feelings that I couldn’t quite get a handle on—fear, uncertainty, but, strangely, a bit of joy that I hadn’t expected to feel.
“Where’s Louis? He’ll be so happy to find out—”
“You can’t tell him!” I snapped. At her shocked expression, I apologized. “I’m sorry. But please, don’t tell him.”
Jenna looked at me with concern. “Of course, Emily. What you want confidential stays confidential.” Then she lowered her voice and leaned forward, “But is there anything else going on at home…?”
I flushed and shook my head. It wasn’t what she thought. Louis didn’t abuse me. But he may have cheated on me, so telling him I was pregnant right now would just add a new layer of chaos.
I thanked Jenna, and she reluctantly left the room, saying I could check out in the morning. Then I was alone after a bomb had just been dropped on my lap.
I had always wanted to be a mother. And I had imagined this moment as a time of celebration, with Louis at my side. But how could I share this with him when our marriage hung by a thread?
My phone buzzed in my hand. I swallowed thickly and dared to look at the caller ID. Then I relaxed. It was only Maya.
“Hey,” I answered softly.
“I heard you were in the hospital, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just a bit of a fainting spell. Low blood sugar.”
I heard the jangle of her earrings as she nodded. “Good, good.” I didn’t expect, however, for her voice to lower and doubt to creep into it. “Hey, are you going to be free tomorrow afternoon? I need to talk to you about something.”
I was concerned about the tenseness in her tone, so I figured it was something important. Maybe she was finally getting married to her long-time boyfriend. I smiled and wanted to start planning wedding gifts right away. Maybe I could confide in Maya about this whole mess tomorrow, too. She would know what to do.
Maya and I had been best friends forever. One never far from the other; we were practically attached at the hip. But not long after we got married, Louis started getting angry about Maya and me spending so much time together. He seemed deeply unnerved by her despite having given her a job as his secretary. His anger over it scared me. Especially since…
I had gone gift shopping for Maya’s birthday. Louis was enraged, demanding that I return the gifts because it was “his money.” I refused, calling him ridiculous. And then he…he forced himself on me. Brutally kissed me and forced me to have sex with him despite my protests. It was awful, but I had done nothing about it since then.
I swallowed thickly at the memory. Then, I shook my head and forced myself back to the conversation at hand.
“Yeah, I’m free,” I replied. “Let’s meet at the usual café.”
The next day came quickly, and I found myself sitting across from Maya at the café. Usually, I would be able to relax with her, but she seemed so nervous that it was putting me on edge.
“I have news,” she said as her hands twisted in her lap.
I smiled, getting ready to congratulate her. “Are you getting married?”
She shook her head. Took a deep breath. Then she said, “I’m pregnant.”
I was momentarily stunned. The timing couldn’t be weirder. Still, I widened my grin. “That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for—”
Maya cut me off by grabbing my hand tightly. I was shocked at the tears welling in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Emily,” she murmured. “Louis is the father.”
I froze. My breath caught in my throat. “…What?”
Maya broke down, sobbing uncontrollably as her grip tightened painfully around my hand. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve ruined everything. It’s all my fault!”
Louis and Maya? My best friend and my husband?
This all felt like a bad dream. For a moment, I was certain I would be waking up in bed with Louis at my side and the comfort of knowing none of this had been real. But I quickly realized it was all too real.
My vision blurred as tears came to my eyes. I pulled my hand away from Maya’s and found I couldn’t stop trembling.
I tried to speak, tried to get any kind of words out. “You…I—”
I stopped with a gasp as Maya suddenly slapped herself. “It’s all my fault! All my fault!” she cried. People around us were staring. When had my life become a spectacle?
She tried to grab my hand again, but I recoiled. Then her face took on an imploring expression, and she pleaded, “Please, divorce Louis. I need him in my life. Let him go. For the sake of the baby.”
If it was possible, I was even more shocked.
How can I even process this? Was I being pranked?
I looked around for cameras, but all I saw were the accusing eyes of strangers.
“But,” I said surprisingly softly, “Louis has no feelings for you.”
I noticed Maya’s eyes harden briefly, but then sorrow returned full force to her face. “Oh, Emily, please don’t say that. Especially since I have you to thank for Louis and I meeting.” She placed a hand on her stomach, and I felt ill. “Without you, I never would have had this miracle.”
I winced and clenched my shaking hands. I resisted touching my own stomach, where my own “miracle” lay.
“Please, let Louis go so he and I can be together. My child needs it as much as I do,” Maya implored.
Louis’ POVShe can’t find out. She can’t find out.I tapped my fingers on my desk in a stunted, anxious rhythm. This uncertainty, this nervousness, was not like me. I was usually so well put together, so confident, and full of pride. But what I had done had reduced me to practically a sniveling mess.“Dammit!” I shouted and slammed my palm on my desk. “Sir, is everything all right?” my new secretary, Susan (a middle-aged woman; I will not make the same mistake twice) asked as she peeked her head into my office.I waved a hand but couldn’t wipe the scowl on my face as I said, “I’m fine.”She looked at me skeptically but didn’t argue. I didn’t hire her to argue. I hired her to get Maya out of my life, at least until the baby came.God, what had my life become?When Susan left, I stood up and looked out the window. I clenched my fists, staring out at the storm brewing in the distance. I used to be in control—always two steps ahead, always confident. But now, everything felt like it was
Emily’s POVI drove off in a mixed state of shock and rage. I drove almost blindly, barely making it across town. Where I was going, I didn’t know.Eventually, I pulled over. With determination, I dialed Louis. He answered on the second ring as if expecting my call.“Emily? Is everything okay?”“Louis,” I said, trembling, “have you betrayed our promise?”A silence. Then, “No.”“Then why did Maya tell me she’s carrying your baby?”The silence was the judge, jury, and executioner. It condemned him just as much as any confession would have.How could he lie to me? How could he betray me like this?“Emily, where are you? Let’s talk about this—”“You’ve ruined my life!” I screamed. I saw red, fury coursing through me like a burning flame. I had no idea where I was going or even how fast I was going. I barely registered a turn and over-twisted my wheel. A deafening bang rang out, and I jerked harshly against the seatbelt as the airbag hit me roughly in the face. I sat for a moment, dazed as
Maya’s POVI tidied up the living room quickly, ensuring everything looked untouched and perfect. The SD card and card reader I’d prepared was plugged in the back of the TV. I plucked it out, holding it with triumph, then slipped it into a drawer, placing it gently under a pile of old magazines. The proof of my night with Louis. He might have dismissed me, but I wasn’t going to let him erase me or our child that easily.I smoothed my hands over my stomach, feeling anger and determination swell within. “Emily, don’t blame me,” I murmured softly to myself. “I’m doing this for my child.” I whispered down to my stomach, “Daddy will love you very much.” He might not know it yet, but he would adore this baby—and me. He had to. Or all this would have been for nothing.***I had confronted him about it almost as soon as I knew. “I’m pregnant, Louis,” I told him. My pulse thrummed with the excitement that my plan was finally coming to fruition.But when he looked at me, his expression was cold
Emily’ POVLouis carried me through the door, his arms tight around me as if he were afraid I'd shatter. The sight of everything looking so normal while my entire life was falling apart was jarring. But there was something more. The house was too clean, especially around the TV. This wasn’t how I had left it.I wrenched out of his grasp, stumbling. "This isn’t right!" I shouted, pointing at the TV. “Where’s the video?”Louis moved closer, his hand reaching out to stroke my cheek in an attempt to calm me. "Emily," he said, his voice too soft, instantly grating on my nerves, "you’re tired. You’ve been through a lot. Just sit down, okay?”But I pushed him away, unable to shake the terrible feeling of violation and insecurity. "No, Louis! Somebody’s been here—someone messed with the TV!” I screeched, my voice rising as my thoughts spiraled. “Where is the video?” I was grasping at straws—it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers, and the more I tried to hold on, the faster it
Emily’s POVMy body was heavy, weighed down as if submerged in a thick, dark tide. The faint creak of the door barely registered and I wanted to see who it was. My mind screamed to react, to open my eyes, to ask who was there, but my body refused to obey. I was trapped in my own skin, helpless.Footsteps shuffled closer, deliberate and slow. A shadow fell across me, and I felt the invasive grip of fingers prying my mouth open. The bitter taste of something vile flooded my tongue, and I gagged, my throat spasming against the intrusion. My stomach churned violently, sending sharp, agonizing waves of pain rippling through my body.Panic surged, cutting through the fog of sedation. A damp, warm sensation spread beneath me, and I knew something was wrong—terribly wrong. I wanted to cry out, to fight back, to see the face of whoever was doing this, but darkness dragged me under once more.***"Emily!"Louis’s voice pierced through the haze, shaking me roughly by the shoulders. My head lolle
Louis’ POVI leaned back in my office chair, the weight of the day pressing down on me like iron. The room was silent, save for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, yet my mind was anything but. Papers lay scattered across my desk, reports begging for attention, but I couldn’t focus. Not with Emily’s image burned into my mind—frail, pale, and accusing.I’d thrown myself into work, burying the turmoil of home life. It wasn’t enough. The moments of peace, of distraction, weren’t coming, leaving me to face the bitter truth: Emily and I were beyond broken. The warmth we once shared, the laughter, the love—it had all curdled into something rotten, bloodstained.“Louis?” A soft voice broke the silence, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced up to find Maya standing in the doorway, her hands resting lightly on her rounded belly. She looked vulnerable, her usual confident demeanor replaced with something hesitant.“Yes?” My tone was clipped, though not intentionally. I was simply too t
Emily’s POVLouis sat stiffly behind his desk, his expression carefully composed, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed the tension simmering beneath the surface. His usual aura of control seemed slightly frayed as his eyes flicked from me to Maya and back again."Emily," he began, his voice low. "Let's not do this here.""Why is she still here, Louis?" I demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at Maya. "You told me she was transferred. What is she doing here?"Before Louis could respond, Maya gracefully interjected, holding her belly like it was a delicate treasure. Her calm demeanor only fanned the flames of my rage."Louis," she said, her voice soft, "Maybe I should explain things to Emily." She turned to me, her expression almost pitying, but her words were knives concealed in velvet. "Emily, once my baby is born, I’ll leave. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’m not trying to interfere."She was pure malice rolled in sugar, easier to swallow for those around her - it was
Emily’s POVMaya's sobs echoed off the walls of Louis's office, a pitiful soundtrack to her manipulations. I watched her through narrowed eyes, my stomach churning with disgust."I just want to do what's right," she wailed, cradling her belly dramatically. "Emily, please, stop blaming me for everything. I'm not the enemy here!"I had heard enough. “Oh, spare me the theatrics,” I snapped, my voice cold. “You’ve been the enemy since the moment you wormed your way into my life pretending to be my friend.”Louis glanced between us, clearly uncomfortable, but when he moved to speak, Maya beat him to it.“I was just trying to help,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I never wanted this to happen.”Her lies grated against my already frayed nerves. I had to get out before I said—or did—something I couldn’t take back. Spinning on my heel, I marched toward the door.“Emily, wait!” Louis’s voice followed me, but I didn’t stop.Behind me, I heard the faint rustling of fabric and Maya’s voice,
Barrett’s POVThe next morning, I sat in my leather recliner, nursing a secund cup of black coffee, and staring out over the manicured estate. Thoughts of the approaching date churned in my mind, and I found myself… restless. Seventy. The big seven-zero. The number itself tasted both bitter and regal on my tongue. I had not planned to celebrate, not publicly anyway. But as the morning wore on, I began to feel something stir in my chest. A small fire. A whisper of sentimentality. Perhaps, I thought, a modest gathering with those closest to me would not be entirely foolish.I reached for the landline beside me, its polished brass and ivory buttons still more satisfying than any of these cursed smartphones. I dialed Charles’ office number and waited.“Father,” Charles answered, his voice clipped, professional. Always the executive, even for me.“I hope I’m not interrupting your hostile takeover of a rival firm,” I said, smirking to myself.“You’re lucky I find your sarcasm charming, Fath
Barrett’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes of my suite, casting golden beams over the thick Persian rugs and polished mahogany furniture. I had just finished a satisfying breakfast of poached eggs, grilled asparagus, and a piece of toast slathered with just enough marmalade to remind me of Madelin’s old habit of sneaking sugar into everything. I was reclined in my massage chair, the mechanical hum of the rollers easing into my lower back as I sipped a small glass of tomato juice. My slippers were warm, my robe wrapped perfectly around me, and for a brief, fleeting moment, I allowed myself the luxury of peace.Then came the knock.It was not sharp or aggressive, but steady, insistent. I assumed it was Becky, my nurse, coming to check my vitals and shuffle me off to the pool where I would wade like a disoriented walrus through lukewarm water in the name of cardio. I did not mind. At my age, movement was a celebration, not a punishment.“Come in,” I called, not turni
Emily’s POVThe house was silent, that comforting kind of quiet that settles just before twilight. I had dimmed the lights in the kitchen and lit the candles I kept tucked away for special occasions, letting them cast soft, flickering shadows across the table. The scent of roasted garlic, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh basil danced through the air, blending with the heady sweetness of the vanilla candle near the door. Damian had texted me an hour ago to say he was finally headed home after a brutal day at the hospital. I could almost hear the exhaustion in his message.He had been working late all week, dealing with a string of emergency surgeries and difficult patients. I had seen it in the shadows under his eyes and the way his voice sometimes trailed off mid-thought. I hated seeing him that way. So tonight, I decided, was just for him.The table was set with our mismatched plates and the fancy cloth napkins we never used. A bottle of Chianti stood like a soldier at attention beside
Emily’s POVThe smell of garlic, rosemary, and lemon zest lingered in the air as I stirred the sauce gently in the pan, the soft clink of the wooden spoon against metal filling the silence between bursts of laughter. Damian sat on a stool near the island, slicing up bright heirloom tomatoes for the salad, his sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with a trace of sea salt. There was something sweetly ridiculous about how domestic we’d become. Just last week I was navigating legal documents and emotionally charged confrontations, and now, I was arguing with this man—this impossibly handsome, frustrating, tender man—about how thick tomato slices should be.“Thicker, Damian. They fall apart when they’re paper-thin. What is this, a salad or carpaccio?” I teased, shaking my head.He looked up at me with mock offense, eyes sparkling with humor. “Excuse you, this is art. Not everything needs to be manhandled into submission.”I flicked a little water at him from the edge of my fingers and he gas
Barrett’s POVThe afternoon light filtered in through the tall windows of Emily’s restaurant, casting a soft golden hue across the crisp white tablecloth and delicately arranged tea set before me. I leaned back slightly in my chair, cigar long extinguished, the aroma of fresh herbs and warm fruit filling the air. Emily moved with the grace of a dancer, placing platters of vibrant foods before Tom and me, her smile glowing with sincerity and quiet confidence. It was a different kind of strength than I was used to — not forged in boardrooms or battles, but grown in the soft, persistent soil of daily intention and care. A strength you could eat, I thought, marveling at the spread before us.“I wanted to do something special,” she said as she settled into the chair across from me. “This is part of something I’ve been dreaming up — a lifestyle brand built around nutrition, mindfulness, and family. Something real. I’ve spent so long building something for myself, and now… I want to build so
Barrett’s POVTom turned the wheel smoothly, his gloved hands steady on the leather steering wheel as the car pulled up in front of Emily’s restaurant. The warm amber glow of the morning sun bathed the little bistro’s façade, catching the edge of its elegant signage and making the gold lettering sparkle. It was half-past ten, a peaceful hour before the doors opened to the bustle of brunch service. I reached for my phone, preparing to dial Emily and let her know we had arrived, when the front door of the restaurant swung open.There she was. Bright-eyed and graceful, waving as she stepped into the sun with a smile that could make a bitter man sweet. I rolled down the window and gave her a gentleman’s wave, the kind I had perfected over the decades. There was charm in that wave, intention too. I always made a show of things. She crossed the sidewalk quickly, her steps light and full of purpose, and Tom, ever the reliable footman, was already out of the car and opening the door before sh
Barrett’s POVI opened my mouth to decline, but my stomach betrayed me with a traitorous growl. Tom chuckled and patted his own gut."I haven’t eaten breakfast," he admitted sheepishly. "Wouldn’t say no to something light.""Then it’s settled," Emily said with a delighted nod. "Come inside. I’ll whip something up quickly before the restaurant opens."Inside, the space was warm and inviting. Clean wood, exposed brick, and the scent of cinnamon and espresso hung in the air. She led us to a corner booth and told us to make ourselves comfortable before disappearing behind the kitchen doors.I leaned back against the leather banquette and glanced around, noting the framed photos, handwritten menus, and stacks of mismatched ceramic cups. It had charm. Real charm. Not that fabricated kind the decorators installed into million-dollar spaces with rustic beams from fake barns in Vermont.A few minutes later, Emily returned carrying two plates and two steaming mugs of coffee."Spinach, egg, and
Barrett’s POVOnce they were gone, I called Tom, who had wisely waited downstairs in the car, no doubt reading the paper or texting his wife about what groceries to pick up on the way home.“Tom,” I said, “it’s time. We’re going to Emily’s restaurant to pick her up.”He chuckled on the other end. “That was quick, sir. Thought you’d be stuck there all afternoon.”“It does not take long to make people uneasy,” I said with a laugh, lighting one final cigar before snuffing it out prematurely. “Sometimes all you have to do is show up.”I stepped out from my office and walked through the executive corridor with purpose, nodding politely at those who dared look me in the eye. I was not a ghost of the past. I was still the storm that shook the windows. I took the elevator back down, passing floor after floor of carefully polished egos and glass walls, watching my reflection in the silver doors. There he was—Barrett Augustus, still in control, still calling the shots.The lobby greeted me with
Barrett’s POVThe phone call had gone better than expected. Emily had answered after three rings, her voice a delicate mix of confusion and caution, but the moment she realized it was me—Barrett Augustus—her tone shifted to something more respectful. I could hear the hesitation behind her words, the hesitation of a woman who had been burned too many times, who had learned the hard way that even well-dressed men with deep pockets carried knives behind their backs. But I was not calling to hurt her. No, I had far more interesting things in mind.I told her I wanted to take her somewhere important, somewhere that mattered to me, and she agreed without pressing too much. That pleased me. A young woman with enough intuition to know when not to push an old lion too hard. She insisted, however, that once our little errand was over, I would join her at her restaurant for tea and pastries. Tea and pastries. The very idea of it made me laugh, but there was something endearing about her. She did