Chapter 6

It was a whole new week when I finally got the test results, and just as the pharmacist said, I was pregnant—five weeks along, to be exact.

Even though I knew this might be the case, I was still surprised. Like how could I have forgotten about my period or missed the soreness of my breasts? Thank God I decided to stop drinking just in time.

A mix of emotions hit me. Excitement and joy coursed through my body, but so did worry and fear.

The doctor had warned me that my womb wasn't stable and that I could lose the baby if I wasn't careful.

This news would freak Walker out. He'd be worried, and that usually led to him stressing out even more. I didn't want to see him back in that state.

Not anymore.

So I decided not to tell him.

In the car, I first sent Walker a picture of the results, feeling a rush of excitement. The message showed that he read it almost right away, but five minutes later, he still hadn't replied. He was probably busy but he shouldn't have read the message if he couldn't respond immediately. I didn't think of it.

Instead, I kept staring at the results, wondering if it was real or fake. The bold positive seemed to mock me, a cruel joke. But the tears streaming down my face told a different story.

What kind of miracle is this?

I had given up hope. Years of praying, of wishing. And now, when I least expected it, when I thought it was over, here I was. Pregnant.

The sobs came unexpectedly, wracking my body with a mix of emotions. Happiness, fear, shock. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of uncertainty.

I'm sure if people saw the way I was crying, they would think I just lost a loved one. I'm sure I looked ugly. But appearance didn't matter in this kind of situation.

Out of nowhere my stomach grumbled. Suddenly remembering that I hadn't eaten since this morning. I laughed at myself, with tears still pouring down my face, and decided to focus on food and not on the way my hands trembled as I put the results back into the envelope.

After cleaning my face, I pondered on what to eat. Since it was still morning, something light  would be nice. Immediately I pictured warm cinnamon swirl bread and an iced latte. My stomach growled again in agreement and my mouth watered at the thought.

There were quite a few cafés near the hospital, and I had a spot in mind that I wanted to hit up. It was at least two blocks away from the hospital, so I reached the place in no time.

As soon as I entered the shop, I was hit by the aroma of freshly baked pastries. I ordered the cinnamon bread and a berry smoothie because obviously, I couldn't drink coffee anymore.

After eating, I ordered more cinnamon swirl bread to go and as I was waiting for my order to be packed I saw something on the TV in the corner that made me smile. It was a clip of an art exhibition.

Seeing that made me miss my job. I missed the smell of new paint, the feeling it gave me, and the beauty that the artist was able to express with just paint. I wasn't born with a talent for drawing or painting, but I wanted to do it.

I remember my older brother mocking me and telling me that my dream of becoming an artist was as distant as Pluto is from the sun. However, my father was very supportive. He offered me an alternative, and that is how I became a gallery owner. I assisted artists from across the country in showcasing their work. It was enjoyable and made me feel fulfilled.

But that feeling died. I couldn't continue failing like that, so I gave my position to Jenna who was my partner, and left.

Ding! "Number 15. Your order is ready." That brought me out of my trance. As I was taking my order, I saw fresh cream puffs and an idea came to mind. I ordered those too.

As I tossed them into the passenger seat, I realized,  "He didn't even bother to respond, but here I am buying his favorite treat. Unbelievable," I muttered while starting the car.

I was going to go home but then I changed my mind and decided to swing by Walker's office. It felt right to bring him the cream puffs before they got cold. And maybe I wanted to see him.

I tried calling him before I turned around, not wanting to drop by unexpectedly, but he didn't pick up. So I went anyway.

**Third-person pov**

As soon as she walked into the building, she felt eyes on her. When the elevator doors opened on the top floor, everyone turned to watch her as she strode into the room, her white heels clicking on the shiny marble floor. The chatter died down, and the sound of typing slowed as people stared.

Destiny was stunning—late 20s, with porcelain skin, dark hair, and striking amber eyes. She moved confidently, gracefully gliding with each step.

Her short haircut framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, and her bright eyes contrasted beautifully with her soft-colored outfit. She wore a lightweight white blouse that draped gently on her shoulders, showcasing her slender neck. Her forest green pants fit her curves just right, giving her an effortlessly delicate look.

As soon as she disappeared from view, the office buzzed back to life, with whispers and admiring looks flying around. The Director's wife didn't drop by often, but when she did, she made a statement.

"Wow, the Director has great taste," one staff member whispered to a colleague. The other woman nodded, "This is the second time I've seen her, and I'm still blown away. She's so beautiful, not even a hair out of place."

"Plus, the Director is super handsome. They're a match made in heaven. I bet they're so in love," the two ladies sighed dreamily.

An older staff member rolled his eyes and shook his head, catching the attention of the two women. "Don't let her looks fool you," he said, moving closer. "What do you mean?" one asked. He glanced around before continuing, "You two are new and don't know what went down here a year ago."

He went on, "The Director's wife was in an accident a couple of years back, and they lost their baby. It hit her hard, and she got depressed, making things tough for the boss." The ladies gasped.

"It got so crazy that he couldn't go home; he started sleeping in the office. I heard the Madam started drinking to cope with her loss," he continued. One woman put her hand on her chest, "That's so sad."

"Yeah. But then one day, she showed up at the office completely drunk and caused a scene. It was wild. Everyone thought they were done for, but she managed to pull herself together, and it was like nothing ever happened," he finished.

Some older employees nodded, recalling the incident. "It's unimaginable," one remarked.

"And it'll be unimaginable how quickly you'll lose your jobs." Walker's secretary, Logan, walked by with a serious look, making everyone scramble back to work.

**Third-person pov ends**

As I stood in front of his office door, I felt my heartbeat quicken from excitement. I knocked on Walker's office door. "Come in," his voice called from the other side. I turned the handle and stepped into the office, my attention zeroed in on Walker sitting behind his desk...

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows showing his smooth-toned forearms. His handsome face was illuminated by the sunlight from the large windows and his brows were furrowed with concentration. His hair fell over his eyes which were hidden behind the lenses of his glasses. All in all, he was handsome and I wanted to lick him.

With quiet steps, I went around the wide oak desk and stood beside him. He was so focused on whatever he was reading that he barely noticed me. I dropped the brown paper bag of bread on the table and he finally shifted a bit, " What is this, Logan?", he asked, sounding a little annoyed.

"Hm. I wonder what it is?", was my response, and I swear I heard his neck crack the way he glanced at me so quickly. His lips parted, but he was a bit stunned. It was expected since this was the first time in two years I was willing to come to his office.

Walker finally spoke up, "How?" he asked as he was getting up. I grinned at him, "I was just passing by," I lied.

"Oh. You didn't say you were coming," he remarked. I shrugged, "I tried calling, but you didn't pick up. So I figured I'd drop in anyway," I replied, plopping down on the couch.

Walker stood there awkwardly next to me, "Should I go? You looked busy," I pointed out after noticing his silence.

"No, no, don't go. It's just... it's kinda weird seeing you here," he admitted with a small smile. Then he frowned, "Your eyes are red and puffy. Where you crying?" he asked. I cleared my throat in response and quickly changed the topic, "You opened my text but didn't reply, why?" I questioned.