Chapter 23 Sara
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Sara
I don’t cry at first.
Not when the door slams so hard that the walls seem to flinch in response, rattling under the force of his departure.
Not when Meatball presses his cold nose against my hip, whining softly in confusion, as if he can’t comprehend why the man who smelled like safety just disappeared without a word.
Not even when I call Nick, over and over again, and each time it goes straight to voicemail. The same empty tone, again and again.
I sit there. Frozen. Staring at the place where he used to be, still clutching the throw blanket like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
The hoodie I’m wearing smells like cedar, expensive cologne, and the lingering memory of last night, a ghost of something that’s already slipping through my fingers.
He left.
He left, and he didn’t look back. Didn’t wait for an explanation. Didn’t give me a chance to beg for him to stay.
It’s not until I blink and realize I’ve been staring at the same spot on the wall for what feels like hours that it hits me. I’m shaking, trembling with the raw aftershock of surviving this. But I don’t feel lucky to be alive.
I feel empty. Shredded from the inside out, like a part of me was ripped away and left to bleed.
I stand up, my body moving on autopilot. My legs barely hold me up as I stagger across the room. Keys. Phone. Slides. Hoodie. I don’t think, I just move. I need to get out.
Meatball follows me to the door, his paws tapping softly against the floor as if asking where I’m going, but I can’t look at him. If I do, I know I’ll fall apart all over again.
I take the elevator up one floor, pressing Laura’s doorbell with a hand that trembles more than I want it to. The door swings open almost immediately.
She’s barefoot, holding the crinkled croissant bag she’d forgotten earlier. “Sara?” she starts, her voice soft, like she’s surprised to see me. “I was just coming back down to…”
But she stops mid-sentence when she sees me.
And that’s all it takes. One second I’m standing there, holding it together with whatever little I have left, and the next, I’m in her arms sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. It’s the kind of sob that feels dangerous, like it could break me wide open.
The kind of sob that’s been waiting for years to come out, built up by every hurt, every loss. Not just today. Not just Nick. But everything.
Everything.
Laura stays silent. She pulls me inside, closes the door behind us, and holds me with the steady strength of someone who’s been here before, countless times.
“I ruined it,” I gasp out, my chest heaving. “I ruined everything.”
“Shhh,” she whispers, brushing my hair back. “You’re okay. We’ll talk. Sit.”
She guides me to the couch and covers me with a blanket, as if that’ll stop me from coming apart.
It doesn’t.
“He left,” I say, staring down at my knees. “He didn’t even yell. Just… walked out.”
“Nick?”
I nod, and the tears come again. Softer this time.
“He asked if it was true. About the baby. And I said yes. I told him I was going to tell him today. That I was trying. But then you said it first and… damn, Laura, he looked at me like I lied. Like I’d stabbed him in the back.”
“You didn’t,” she says fiercely.
“I did. I did by not telling him. I waited too long. And now I don’t know how to undo it.”
She sits beside me, waiting. Letting me sort through the chaos of everything I’ve been holding inside.
“He said I didn’t trust him. And he’s right.” My voice cracks. “I didn’t. Because I thought… I thought maybe if I told him, he’d run. And the moment those words left my mouth, I saw it… I lost him.”
Laura exhales slowly, a quiet storm held just beneath her skin, her restraint barely contained.
“Then he said he needed time. And he left. Like I was too much.”
And then the real spiral starts. The ugly one.
The one where my thoughts race faster than I can catch them.
“God, what if I pushed him too far? What if I am too much? What if this was all just some stupid accident to him and I’ve been walking around like it meant more and…”
“Stop,” Laura says gently but firmly. “Breathe. One thing at a time.”
I do try. I swear. But my chest is tight and the fear is clawing at my throat.
“He doesn’t know the full story. I didn’t even get to tell him about Rebecca. About the gala. About what she said to me.”
Laura’s eyebrows shoot up. “What exactly did she say?”
I swallow. “She said I was a phase. That Nick doesn’t do commitment.
That he always moves on. And part of me, some stupid part of me, believed her.
So I panicked. I spiraled. And then the test was positive and I thought maybe I could just handle it on my own and not ruin what little I still had left, and now… ”
“Now it feels like you’ve lost everything,” Laura finishes softly.
I nod, eyes blurry with tears. “I might lose him. My job. My stability. My future.”
A pause.
“I don’t know how to be a mom, Laura. I don’t know how to do this.”
She reaches for my hand and grips it tight. “You don’t have to have all the answers tonight. But you’re not doing this alone. Not ever. You have me. And Meatball. And…” She hesitates. “And maybe Nick, once he stops spiraling.”
“You didn’t see his face,” I whisper. “He didn’t fight for me.”
“Maybe he’s still trying to figure out how. Not everyone has your backbone, babe. Some people have to break first before they come back stronger.”
I blink at that.
“I just…” I look down at my stomach, my flat, ordinary stomach that doesn’t look like it’s holding a goddamn miracle. “I feel like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, and if I fall, that’s it. No net. No second chance.”
Laura squeezes my hand again. “Then don’t fall. Just hold on until you figure out what comes next.”
I let out a shaky breath and lean into her side, suddenly so tired I can barely keep my eyes open.
But I do.
Because sleep won’t come. Not while everything is unraveling.
All I know is… the man I love walked away. And this secret I’ve been carrying is no longer just mine.
And if he doesn’t come back?
I don’t know if I’ll ever feel whole again.
Laura’s just gotten me to drink some tea, something herbal and vaguely citrusy, when my phone buzzes on the coffee table.
I don’t move at first. I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see Nick’s name or not see it. Both options feel equally unbearable.
But it keeps vibrating.
Twice.
Three times.
Laura arches a brow, nudging it toward me. “That could be him.”
I swallow and pick it up with clammy fingers.
But it’s not Nick. It’s Tina from HR.
My stomach drops.
I stare at the screen, willing it to change, hoping for a name that won’t feel like a brand burned across my skin, marking me for trouble.
“I have to take this,” I murmur, already standing. I slip out onto Laura’s balcony, my heart thudding so loud it drowns out the city noise.
I swipe to answer.
“Hi, Tina?”
“Sara, hi,” comes her cheerful, too-bright voice. “I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”
Depends. Are you about to fire me?
“No, it’s fine,” I say, even though everything inside me is screaming.
She clears her throat. “So, listen. This is… just a courtesy call, okay? Off the record. But I thought you deserved a heads up.”
My spine straightens. “Okay…?”
“There’s been some chatter. About you and Nick Ashford.”
I go cold. Arctic, heart-stopping cold.
“What kind of chatter?”
“Well… let’s just say someone’s been making some noise about a possible inappropriate relationship between an executive and his employee. It hasn’t gone above my department yet, but I wanted you to know. In case it gets worse.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Is someone accusing me of something?”
“No one’s filed anything. Yet. But you know how this place works. People talk. And lately… well, let’s just say certain meetings and late-night sightings have made their way through the grapevine. And then there are the online rumors…”
Oh my god. The gala photos.
My knees buckle slightly and I have to lean against the balcony railing. “Who’s saying this?”
“I can’t say. And honestly, I don’t even know who started it. But the timing feels… intentional. And I just thought, as someone who likes you, that you deserved to be warned.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Thank you, Tina. I appreciate it.”
She softens a little. “I know this sucks. I’m not trying to add to your stress. Just… be careful. Okay?”
“I will.”
We hang up.
And then I just stand there, staring out at the New York skyline, the wind slapping my face, trying to keep me conscious.
Because I’m not sure I am.
Inappropriate relationship.
Chatter.
Rumors.
I press a hand to my belly. The nausea is creeping back in, but it’s not from hormones this time.
Someone knows. Someone’s talking.
It won’t be long before this all blows up in my face.
I feel sick.
I stumble back into Laura’s apartment, pale and shaking.
She jumps up instantly. “What happened?”
“Tina from HR.” I can hardly get the words out. “Someone’s spreading rumors. About me. And Nick.”
Laura’s expression hardens. “What the actual hell?”
“She said it’s just office gossip for now. But that it could get worse.” My chest tightens until I can barely breathe. “What if I get fired? What if he does? What if this all blows up and it’s not just us who get hurt, but everything we’ve worked for?”
Laura grabs my shoulders. “Hey. Look at me.”
I try.
“You haven’t done anything wrong. You were two consenting adults. If anyone crosses a line, it’s not you, it’s whoever’s trying to weaponize your relationship.”
But her words don’t land. The panic is already taking over.
What if this isn’t just heartbreak?
What if this is destruction?
I left my freelancing gigs for this job. For the stability. The healthcare. The routine. The future.
I thought I was finally safe. And now, I might be about to lose everything.
My career.
My reputation.
My man…
And it’s all unraveling before I’ve even gotten the chance to breathe.
Tears burn again, but I swallow them back. No more crying.
Not today.
But somewhere deep in my chest, I feel it starting again anyway.
The terrifying, spiraling thought that maybe I’ve already lost too much to fix this.
And I don’t know how to make it stop.