22. Destiny
22
DESTINY
I scroll through my phone, Avery nestled against my chest, when a headline catches my eye. My heart stops. There, splashed across the screen, are photos of me and Avery at the airport. I blink, hoping it's a mistake, but the images remain.
"What the hell?" I mutter, careful not to wake Avery.
My fingers tremble as I tap the article. It's everywhere - every major celeb news outlet seems to be running the story. Our private life, laid bare for the world to see.
And then I see it. Adam's words, quoted in bold: "I'm not condoning this type of behavior."
The phone slips from my hand, clattering to the floor. Avery stirs, and I instinctively tighten my hold on her.
"Shh, little one," I whisper, but my voice cracks.
I can't believe it. After everything we've been through, after that night... how could he say that? The betrayal cuts deep, twisting in my gut like a knife.
What exactly does he mean by that anyway? What did I do wrong?
My phone buzzes on the floor. It's probably my parents, or maybe Barrett or my assistant. But what if it's Adam? I'm not ready to face him, not after this.
I stand up, pacing the room with Avery. My mind races. The stupid paparazzi is creating a story where there isn’t even a trace of gossip.
And Adam... God, Adam. His words echo in my head, each repetition another blow. "I'm not condoning this type of behavior." What behavior? Being a mother? Trying to protect our daughter?
Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them back. I won't cry. Not now. Not over this.
"We'll be okay, Avery," I murmur, more to convince myself than her. "Mommy's got you."
She makes her usual adorable sounds when I lay her down in her crib. Holding her hand, I smile at her. Her eyes have this wonderful way of soothing my soul.
Still, when I look around our apartment I can't help but feel trapped.
The walls seem to close in, and for the first time since moving here, I long for the spaciousness of the house I shared with Adam.
No. I shake my head, banishing the thought. That's not home anymore.
This is. Me and Avery, we're home.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself. Whatever comes next, whatever Adam meant by those words, I'll face it.
But damn, it hurts. I can’t deny the way my heart aches.
I need air. The apartment is suffocating me more with every passing second. Avery fusses in her crib, sensing my distress.
"Shh, baby girl. We're going for a walk," I coo, lifting her into my arms.
I strap her into the stroller, my hands shaking slightly. A walk will clear my head. It has to.
The elevator ride down is silent, save for Avery's soft gurgles. I take a deep breath when the doors open, steeling myself for the outside world.
The moment I step out of the building, chaos erupts.
"Destiny! Over here!"
Oh, God. Of course the paparazzi has to show up now.
"Is it true Adam's denying the baby?"
I nearly freeze. Who the hell told them something like that?
"What do you have to say about his statement?"
Cameras flash, blinding me. Microphones rudely thrust into my face. Bodies press in from all sides.
"No comment," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.
I try to push through, but they're everywhere. Avery starts to cry, the noise overwhelming her.
"Please, let us through," I plead, panic rising in my chest.
A reporter shoves his mic closer. "Destiny, how do you respond to Adam saying he doesn't condone your behavior?"
My heart races. Sweat beads on my forehead. I can't breathe.
This is insane.
"Move!" I shout, surprising even myself with the force behind it.
I turn the stroller around, pushing back towards the building entrance. The doorman sees my struggle and rushes to help, creating a small path.
"Back off!" he yells at the paparazzi. "You're scaring the baby!"
We make it inside, and I collapse against the wall, my legs weak. Avery's cries echo in the lobby.
"Are you alright, Mrs. Lewis?" he asks, concern etched on his face.
I nod, unable to form words. My hands tremble as I reach for Avery, needing to hold her close.
"I'm so sorry, baby," I whisper, rocking her gently. "It’s okay now. We're safe."
But as Avery's cries subside, a new fear takes hold. How long before nowhere feels safe?
I rush us into our apartment and spring into action, my heart racing as I pull out suitcases from the closet. Clothes fly into the bags, hangers clattering to the floor. I don't have time to fold neatly. Avery watches from her playpen, gurgling happily, oblivious to the chaos.
"We're going on a little trip, cupcake," I coo, trying to keep my voice steady. I need to remain calm so she doesn’t get upset. The last thing I want is to have her sense my unease.
My phone buzzes incessantly. I ignore it, focusing on packing essentials for Avery. Diapers, formula, the pink blanket Adam brought for her. The last thing I grab is her favorite stuffed toy—a fat little elephant. I toss it all in, my hands shaking.
Once the bags are zipped, I scoop Avery into my arms and grab my phone. I need to let my parents know. Guilt twists in my stomach as I type out a message:
"Mom, Dad, I'm so sorry, but I have to cancel dinner tonight. Things have gotten crazy with the press. I need to get out of the city for a while. I'll call and explain everything better later. Maybe you can visit once we're settled. Love you both."
I hit send before I can second-guess myself. The response is immediate:
"Honey, what's going on? Are you okay? Where are you going?"
I can't deal with their questions right now. I'll call them later, once we're safe. Away from the prying eyes and invasive cameras.
"Alright, Avery," I say, hoisting her onto my hip. "Let's blow this popsicle stand."
I grab the bags and head for the door, pausing only to take one last look at our apartment. It's not much, but it's been our haven. Now it feels tainted, exposed.
As I step into the hallway, my neighbor Mrs. Chen pokes her head out.
"Everything okay, dear?" she asks, eyeing my luggage.
I force a smile. "Just a last-minute trip. We'll be back soon."
The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I can't risk anyone knowing where we're going. Not when I don't even know myself.
The doorman sees me coming with my luggage and quickly understands that I’ll need his help. He guides me to a side entrance and shows me how to reach the street where my car is parked without being noticed by the paparazzi.
"I’ll try and distract them while you hurry to your car, Mrs. Lewis." He smiles reassuringly.
My smile is small but sincere. "Thanks so much. I owe you a fat tip, and you’ll get it as soon as I’m back."
He shakes his head, still smiling. "Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help you."
Peeking around the corner, I wait until I see him talking to the paparazzi, curious what he’s saying to them. As soon as they’re occupied, I rush across the street and open the trunk, holding Avery in one arm.
Packing as quickly as I can, I keep an eye on the paparazzi, praying that they don’t notice me.
I slam the trunk shut, my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of the situation crashes down on me as I slide into the driver's seat. Avery gurgles from her car seat, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding us.
"We're going on an adventure, cupcake," I say, my voice cracking slightly.
I turn the key, and the engine roars to life. As I pull out of the parking spot, I catch a glimpse of the photographers at the building entrance. My grip tightens on the steering wheel.
"Vultures," I mutter under my breath.
The city streets blur as I navigate through traffic, constantly checking my rearview mirror for any signs of pursuit. My phone continues to buzz, vibrating on the passenger seat. I ignore it, focusing on the road ahead.
Two hours. Just two hours until we reach the cottage. The thought of the secluded lakeside property Adam and I bought together during happier times brings a pang of nostalgia and pain.
"We’ve got this," I whisper, more to myself than to Avery.
As we hit the highway, I feel a small sense of relief. The open road stretches before us, promising escape, if only temporary. I glance at Avery through the rearview mirror. She's fallen asleep, her tiny fist curled around the ear of her stuffed elephant.
"We'll figure this out, baby," I promise, determined.
The familiar landscape gives way to rolling hills and dense forests. My shoulders begin to relax as the city fades behind us.
Finally, I feel comfortable enough take a deep breath.
The cottage. Our refuge. A place to think, to plan, to breathe.
Maybe there, in the quiet of nature, I can make sense of this mess. Maybe there, I can find the strength to face whatever comes next.
As I turn onto the winding road leading to the lake, a sense of calm washes over me. We're almost there. Almost safe.