Chapter 40
40
ROWENA
Thirty-eight weeks pregnant
The winter morning light filters softly through the expansive windows, illuminating the penthouse in a balmy glow. Outside, the city sparkles under a fresh blanket of snow, like an endless sea of diamonds catching the sun’s pale rays. I sit alone, my swollen belly throbbing with a persistent ache that radiates through my core. At thirty-eight weeks pregnant, the weight of the life growing inside me is an ever-present reminder of the monumental changes to come.
A sudden hot flush washes over me and I wrap myself in a cozy cardigan before stepping out onto the terrace for some crisp January air. The remnants of holiday decorations still linger on the city below—colorful lights twinkling amidst the snowy rooftops, clinging to the festive spirit for a few more fleeting moments. But the brisk breeze carries with it the promise of a new year that’s just started, a fresh chapter waiting to be written.
Cooled and refreshed, I walk back inside and settle at my desk, the two offers for my gaming console spread out before me. As I sift through the proposals from MC Toys and the Californian behemoth, my mind drifts to thoughts of the past three months with Adrian.
Since that night in a hotel room at the end of September, life has been an exhilarating whirlwind. Adrian’s unwavering support has exceeded all my hopes and expectations. Together, we’ve shopped for tiny onesies and baby blankets, giggling like teenagers as we debated the merits of ducks versus dinosaurs. We’ve spent weekends assembling cribs and changing tables. Adrian meticulously painted the nursery himself, refusing to hire help to do it, his dedication shining through each brushstroke. Even with his demanding job, he’s made time for birthing classes and doctor’s appointments, holding my hand and beaming with pride at every ultrasound.
Our days have been filled with the busy preparations of pending parenthood, but our nights—oh, our nights have been pure magic. The separate bedrooms are but a distant memory. We fall asleep every night wrapped in each other’s arms, we whisper dreams for the future and promises of forever between passionate kisses and sighs of pleasure. The love we share pulses with an intensity I never knew possible.
As I run my fingers over the offers on my desk, I’m amazed at how far I’ve come since the day I met Adrian puking my sorrows out in a public restroom, jobless and hopeless. He’s given me the strength and confidence to pursue my dreams while giving me space to lose myself in lines of code when inspiration strikes, just as I step back when he needs to analyze the rises and falls of the financial markets.
And here in my hands is the concrete proof that everything is possible. It’s taken so many hours of hard work and negotiations, but now I have two stellar offers to choose from .
Staring at the two proposals spread across my desk, I bite my lip, my mind swirling with the weight of the decision before me. The MC Toys offer, with its promise of focused attention and creative control, tugs at my heartstrings. They seem to understand my vision, eager to nurture my console as their second flagship product.
But the sleek folder from the Californian behemoth is hard to ignore, the numbers jumping off the page and dancing in my head. The sheer scale of their distribution network is mind-boggling, and the financial projections make my pulse quicken. This could catapult my passion project to heights I never dared imagine.
And yet, there’s that clause. The one stating I’d have to move to California, 6,000 miles away from everything I know and love. Away from Adrian.
I think back to our conversation last week, when I first brought up the Californian offer. Adrian, ever the pragmatist, methodically laid out the pros and cons, his voice steady and measured.
“The reach and financial backing they guarantee is unparalleled,” he said, his eyes serious as they skimmed the pages. “It’s an incredible opportunity.”
I’d waited, my heart rug-burned, for him to say more. To tell me he didn’t want me to go. That he couldn’t imagine building a life with me so far away. But he said nothing. He just swapped folders, continuing his analysis of pros and cons without factoring any emotion into it. “But MC Toys clearly believes in your vision. They’d give you the creative control to make this console shine, and you wouldn’t be just another number on a spreadsheet.”
He laid out the facts, giving me no other input, making it clear it’s my decision. That I should do what’s best for me and the baby. But what is that?
The doubts echo in my mind as I absently rub my belly, feeling a flitter of movement within. My vision glistens as a wave of fierce adoration swells in my chest. I never knew it was possible to love someone so completely before they’ve even entered the world. In a little over a week, we’ll have a tiny new person depending on us. The thought of navigating those first precious months alone in California sends a chill scratching down my spine. But do I want to stay in New York just because of Adrian, or because it’s the best thing for me ?
I glance at the clock, my heart rate spiking with the conviction that I need to decide. Today. Before this baby makes their grand entrance and turns our world upside down in the most wonderful way.
I pick up the two folders, not really needing to read the fine print. By now, I know both proposals almost by heart. I close my eyes and hug one stack of papers to my chest, leaving the other down on the desk.
With trembling fingers, I pick up my phone and dial the familiar number. It rings once, twice, three times.
“Hello?”
“Hi, yes, this is Rowena Taylor,” I say, my voice sounding far steadier than I feel. “I’m calling to let you know I’ve made a decision regarding your offer…”
As I relay my choice, a sense of peace washes over me, intermingled with a thrill of excitement. This is it. The start of a new chapter. They send me a virtual contract to sign, and I do it right away.
As I save the signed contract on my laptop, a sudden, sharp pain lances through my belly, knocking the wind out of me. Initially, I dismiss it as another bout of Braxton Hicks contractions—I’ve been having a few in the past two weeks, but the intensity catches me off guard. Slowly, I walk to the living room and ease myself onto the couch, hoping a change in position will provide some relief.
But the pain only surges, each wave more powerful than the last. I fumble for my phone, pulling up my pregnancy app with shaking hands. My due date is still ten days away, but as I start timing the contractions, a sinking realization takes hold.
Five minutes apart. Lasting nearly a minute each time.
This isn’t a false alarm.
Excitement wars with trepidation as I struggle to my feet, one hand braced against the base of my spine. I need to get to the hospital. I need Adrian.
I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. Of course, he’s in a meeting with some high-powered client, his phone off. I leave a rambling message, my words punctuated by stuttering gasps as another contraction seizes me.
“Adrian, it’s me. I think… I think the baby’s coming. I’m heading to the hospital now. Please, please call me back as soon as you can.”
Next, I dial his secretary, relaying the same message and trying not to let the rising panic bleed into my voice. She assures me she’ll track him down, and I thank her profusely before ending the call.
My final lifeline is Sam, Adrian’s unflappable driver. He answers on the first ring.
“Sam, I need you to take me to the hospital. I think I’m in labor.”
“I’ll be right there, Miss Rowena.”
I smile, thinking how I never got him to drop the Miss.
True to his word, Sam appears at the penthouse door in record time, his normally stoic face creased with concern. He grabs my overnight bag and helps me to the elevator, his reassuring arms a welcome clutch as another contraction nearly buckles my knees.
The elevator descends at an agonizing slow pace, each jolt sending a fresh wave of agony radiating through my body. I try to focus on my breathing—using the pain management techniques they taught in birthing class—and on the new person I’m about to meet, but all I can think is how desperately I need Adrian by my side.
As the doors slide open and we step into the lobby, a fierce determination settles over me, tempering the chaos of my thoughts. I’m about to become a mother and I’m going to rock at child-birthing.