34. BELLA
34
BELLA
T he room was oppressively quiet and the silence magnified every creak of the bed frame as I shifted, every irregular drip of the bathroom faucet, even the soft rustle of fabric when I adjusted the comforter.
I hated the silence. It mirrored the emptiness inside me, a void that refused to be filled no matter how tightly I wrapped myself in the scratchy comforter.
I stared at the floral-patterned wallpaper of the modest hotel room. It was nothing like the yacht, where everything gleamed and screamed money. Here, the thin carpet scratched at my bare feet, and the faint hum of the AC unit was the only thing filling the void.
It was better this way. At least the room didn’t smell like him.
The muted sounds of traffic filtered through the single-pane window, a faint rhythm of tires against pavement and distant horns that underscored the chaos in my mind. It was a reminder that life outside these walls was moving forward and no matter how horrible things were, in the grand scheme of things the world never stopped turning.
I jumped when my phone rang. It was Gigi.
I swiped to answer, my voice breaking on the first word.
“Hey.”
“Bells? What’s wrong?” The familiar voice and the fact that Gigi always cared, always put me first even when she called for something else, only made the tears I’d been holding back spill over.
I wiped at my face uselessly, my breath hitching as I tried to form words. “It’s over, G. He told me to leave. Said he never wanted to see me again.”
The silence on the other end stretched, heavy with disbelief. “He said that? Just like that?” Gigi’s voice cracked slightly, a rare slip in her usually composed tone. It was as if she was feeling the betrayal alongside me.
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “He… he accused me of lying. Of using him. And then he… he said he didn’t even know if the baby was his.” My voice broke again at the end of my sentence, the words like shards of glass in my throat.
Gigi swore under her breath. “That fucking asshole. After everything you’ve done for him? After everything you’ve been through together?” There was a sharp inhale on the other end, followed by a fiery determination. “God, Bella, I want to punch him in his stupid, self-pitying face. Honestly, how does someone screw up this badly?”
A weak laugh escaped me, choked and bitter. “Get in line.”
“Bells,” she said, her voice softening, “he’s scared. That’s all it is. You know that, right?”
I shook my head, the movement sharp and full of anger. “I don’t think that’s what it is. Not this day. I mean… I screwed up, too. This whole thing with Eli…”
“Did you say it was to help him?”
“Yeah,” I said. “He said that I’m just making it up. Or something. I can’t exactly remember the words.” Anger bubbled back up. “But I can’t believe how he acted. You don’t say that to someone. You don’t just… throw them away like that.”
“You’re right. You don’t. But that’s on him, not you.” Gigi’s tone was firm now, the one she used when she wanted to pull me out of my spirals. “Fuck him, Bella. You’re strong. You’ve always been strong. This isn’t the end for you. It’s just… a shitty, temporary chapter.”
I leaned back against the headboard and groaned, my fingers clutching the edge of the comforter. The cheap fabric scratched against my skin, grounding me in its imperfection. “I don’t even know where to go from here, G. I can’t stay in Monaco. I can’t go back to the yacht. And I can’t keep running forever.”
Her pause was loaded, an inhale before a plunge into cold water. “Bells, I’ve got your back, always. You know that, right? But… what about home?” The hesitation in her voice added weight to the question, as if she wasn’t sure how I’d take it.
“What about home?”
My stomach twisted horribly. Home. It had been years since I’d thought of that place as anything close to a refuge. “You mean back to my dad? You remember why I left, right? He’s not exactly the poster child for support.”
“I know,” she said carefully. “But you’re not sixteen anymore, Bella. You’re stronger now. Maybe he’s changed. And even if he hasn’t, your mom is still there and maybe being around people who care about you and want to support you will help you figure things out.”
I snorted.
The memory of my father’s stern face and controlling tone flickered through my mind, making my stomach churn. The memory of my dad was nothing but suffocating lectures in his office, the faint smell of his aftershave mingling with the musty scent of old books. His voice had always been sharp and unyielding, telling me I’d ruin my life if I didn’t follow his plan.
That night, I’d clenched my fists so tightly my nails bit into my palms, the pain grounding me as I packed my things in secret. The tension of that final argument, the echo of his disappointment no matter what I did, made my chest tighten. How could I face him again? And tell him I was pregnant, to boot? I chewed on my bottom lip, the words sitting heavy in my chest. “I don’t know, G. What if going back just makes things worse?”
“But what if it doesn’t?” Her voice threaded through the fear that had settled in my gut since the moment I’d learned I was pregnant. “What if it gives you a chance to breathe, to get your footing? You don’t have to stay forever, but it could be a place to start.”
The tears came again, softer this time, and I hated how much sense she made. “I just want… I just want to feel like someone’s in my corner, you know? Like I’m not in this by myself.”
“You’re not,” she said fiercely. “You’ve got me. And that little baby in there? You’ve got them, too. You’re not in this alone, and you never will be. You’re going to be okay, Bella. I promise.” She paused before she added, “I just want you to be safe and there, you will be.”
She wasn’t wrong. And the truth was I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I had some savings, but that wasn’t going to last long. I needed a ground base to start off from.
To start over.
I closed my eyes, her words wrapping around me like a lifeline. For the first time since I’d walked off the yacht, the crushing weight on my chest lifted just enough to let me breathe.
“Maybe you’re right,” I finally said. “Maybe I should go home. Just for a little while.”
“If your dad starts acting like a jerk, you call me. I’ll fly out there and set him straight myself.”
I laughed, the sound surprising me. “I might just take you up on that.”
When we finally ended the call, I stared out the window at the city lights, thinking about the road ahead.
It wasn’t going to be easy, but I wasn’t going to let Chris’s fear dictate my future. I’d find my own way, carve out a life for myself and this baby, even if it meant starting from scratch. I’d done it before—I could do it again.
Home.
The word didn’t feel as heavy anymore. Maybe it wasn’t about the place. Maybe it was about finding a part of myself I’d left behind. And maybe it was about proving that I could build something better—for both of us.