192
The penthouse eventually settled back into a calm that felt earned.
Sunlight streamed through the windows now, brighter, warmer — the city fully awake. The evidence of the night lingered: empty glasses on the counter, a blanket draped over the couch, laughter still echoing faintly in the air.
Amanda stood at the edge of the bedroom closet, focused, grounded again — back in her element.
Ericka leaned against the doorframe, arms folded loosely, watching her with that quiet, fond look she only ever wore at home.
"I need you to trust me," Amanda said, reaching for a garment bag hanging carefully to the side.
Ericka smiled. "That usually means I'm about to look incredible."
Amanda glanced over her shoulder. "You always do. This just... completes it."
She unzipped the bag slowly, revealing the outfit she'd made weeks ago — the one she'd been keeping tucked away, waiting for the right moment.
A tailored blazer in a soft neutral tone — clean lines, structured shoulders, cinched just enough at the waist. Underneath, a silk top in a muted jewel shade that caught the light without demanding it. The trousers flowed effortlessly, elegant but powerful.
Ericka stepped closer, fingertips brushing the fabric. "You made this... already?"
Amanda nodded. "Weeks ago. I just didn't know what day it would be for yet."
Ericka turned toward her fully. "After getting engaged. After the internet losing its mind. After my sister almost walking in on us naked?"
Amanda smirked. "Exactly."
Ericka laughed softly, then leaned in to kiss her — slow, familiar, grounding.
"Help me," she murmured.
Amanda did — adjusting the fit, smoothing seams, stepping back to look at her like she always did when she was proud. When Ericka finally faced the mirror, her expression softened.
"I feel... steady," she said quietly.
Amanda came up behind her, hands settling at her waist. "That's the goal."
They didn't rush. They didn't need to.
By the time they stepped into the elevator, the chaos of the morning felt contained — handled. Ericka's posture was composed. Amanda's presence was calm and sure at her side.
As the doors slid closed, Ericka squeezed Amanda's hand.
"Same day," she said softly. "Still us."
Amanda smiled. "Always us."
The elevator doors opened onto their floor with a soft chime, and the shift was immediate.
Amanda straightened first — posture precise, expression neutral, tablet already in hand. Any trace of the morning, the laughter, the chaos, the intimacy slipped neatly behind her eyes like a door clicking shut.
Ericka stepped out beside her, heels steady, shoulders squared. CEO mode settled over her like a tailored blazer — effortless, controlled, unreadable to anyone who didn't know her.
They walked side by side down the hallway, perfectly in sync but with just enough space between them to read as professional. No hands. No lingering looks. Just rhythm and purpose.
"Good morning," Leah said as they passed.
"Morning," Ericka replied evenly.
Amanda nodded politely. "Morning."
Carter glanced up from his screen. "Conference room's set. PR call is at eleven."
"Thank you," Ericka said. "I'll be there."
Amanda was already typing. "I've added the interview prep to your afternoon block and pushed the design review to tomorrow."
Ericka didn't break stride. "Perfect."
They reached Ericka's office.
Amanda stepped ahead, opening the door and moving to her usual spot just inside, already placing her tablet on the desk, lining up papers with practiced efficiency.
Ericka crossed behind the desk and set her bag down, expression calm, composed.
For anyone watching, it was exactly what it always was:
CEO and assistant.
Polished. Professional. Untouchable.
"Your nine-thirty is confirmed," Amanda said, voice even. "Legal sent revised language. I flagged the changes."
"Send them to my inbox," Ericka replied, already opening her laptop. "And have Jasmine looped in."
"Already done."
Amanda turned to leave, pausing only to ask, "Anything else before I step out?"
Ericka glanced up — just for a second.
Not long enough for anyone else to notice.
Just long enough for something unspoken to pass between them.
"No," she said calmly. "That'll be all."
Amanda nodded once. "I'll be right outside."
She closed the door behind her with a soft, professional click.
From the hallway, no one would've guessed what that morning had held.
No one would've suspected anything beyond efficiency and control.
And that was exactly how they wanted it.
Amanda barely had time to sit before her inbox began to fill.
PR.
Legal.
Scheduling.
Media requests stacking one after another.
She slipped fully into her role, fingers moving fast, eyes sharp. The hum of the office wrapped around her — keyboards, muted conversations, the low clink of coffee mugs. Normal. Controlled. Exactly what they needed today.
Ericka's door opened a few minutes later.
Not dramatically. Not rushed.
Just the CEO stepping out.
"Ms. Parker," Ericka said evenly, voice calm and carrying just enough authority to turn a few heads. "I'll need ten minutes before the PR call."
Amanda didn't look up immediately. "Of course. I'll push Jasmine back and confirm Legal is still on standby."
Ericka nodded once. "Thank you."
She paused — just barely — then added, quieter but still professional, "And make sure no one schedules anything after four."
Amanda finally looked up, meeting her eyes. "Already blocked."
That earned the smallest curve of Ericka's mouth before she turned and headed toward the conference room.
Carter leaned over the divider once she was gone. "You good?"
Amanda smiled politely. "Always."
Leah glanced between Amanda and Ericka's closed door, eyebrows lifting. "You're... very calm today."
Amanda picked up her tablet, standing. "Busy day. Calm is required."
Inside Ericka's office, Ericka exhaled slowly and pressed her palms to the desk for a brief moment — grounding herself — before sitting down.
The screen lit up with interview outlines, talking points, carefully worded questions.
This was the part she knew how to handle.
By the time Amanda slipped back in with a neatly organized folder and a cup of tea set precisely where Ericka liked it, they were both exactly who the world expected them to be.
Amanda placed the folder down. "PR will want to lean into the café moment without sensationalizing it. I highlighted language that keeps it controlled."
Ericka scanned the page. "Good."
She looked up. "You'll be in the room?"
"Yes," Amanda said. "Taking notes only."
Ericka nodded. "That's all I need."
For a split second — just one — Ericka's fingers brushed Amanda's as she took the folder.
Amanda smiled.
"I'll bring you in when they're ready," she said.
Ericka leaned back in her chair, composed, steady.
"Perfect."
The meeting wraps smoothly.
Muted applause fills the conference room. Charts glow green. The campaign numbers are strong — stronger than expected. People are smiling, energized, already talking about next steps.
Ericka nods, composed as ever.
"Excellent work," she says evenly. "Let's keep this momentum."
Chairs slide back. Laptops close. The room empties in a low, productive hum.
Ericka walks back to her office alone, heels clicking with familiar precision. She closes the door behind her, the soft click echoing louder than usual.
The quiet settles.
At first, it's subtle.
A pressure behind her eyes.
A faint ringing in her ears.
Her heartbeat suddenly too loud, too fast.
She sets her laptop on the desk, slower than usual, and places a hand on the surface to steady herself.
"...Okay," she murmurs.
She inhales — and feels like the air doesn't fully reach her lungs.
The room tilts.
Just slightly.
She blinks hard, trying to refocus, but the edges of her vision blur. Her stomach churns. A wave of dizziness rolls through her so fast she has to grab the back of her chair.
Her phone is already in her hand.
Ericka → Amanda:
Can you come here for a second?
She waits.
Nothing.
Her chest tightens. She swallows and types again, fingers trembling now.
Ericka → Amanda:
Something feels wrong.
Still nothing.
She exhales sharply, presses her palm flat against the desk, and pushes her chair back.
"I just need to sit," she whispers.
She stands—
The floor drops out from under her.
Her knee buckles instantly.
She grabs the desk, knuckles white, breath hitching as the room spins harder now. Dark spots flicker across her vision.
"No... no," she whispers, fear creeping into her voice.
Her heart is racing. Too fast.
She fumbles with her phone, scrolling, vision swimming.
Amanda — In Meeting.
Locked.
Her throat tightens.
She leans back against the desk, sliding down into the chair, blinking rapidly as nausea coils low in her stomach.
With shaking hands, she opens another message.
Ericka → Leah:
911
Something's wrong
Please
Leah doesn't hesitate.
She's on her feet the second the message comes through — running down the hallway, heart pounding, dodging startled coworkers.
Amanda catches movement in the corner of her eye through the glass conference room.
Leah sprinting.
Her stomach drops instantly.
Leah bursts through Ericka's office door.
"Ericka—what's going on?"
Ericka tries to answer. She pushes herself upright again —
And the room spins violently.
She sways, grabbing the desk, breath coming shallow and uneven.
Leah's face changes in a heartbeat.
"Hey—don't stand. Sit—"
Ericka shakes her head weakly, eyes glassy now, panic breaking through her calm.
"I—I don't know what's happening," she whispers. "I feel dizzy. I feel like I'm going to—"
Her voice cracks.
Tears spill over before she can stop them.
"I need Amanda," she says, barely audible.
She reaches out — her balance gone.
Leah lunges forward just in time, wrapping an arm around her to keep her from falling.
"I've got you," Leah says firmly. "You're okay. I've got you."
Ericka clutches her sleeve, shaking.
"I can't stay up," she whispers.
Leah pulls her phone out with her free hand, typing fast.
Leah → Team Group Chat:
911
Bring Amanda to Ericka's office NOW
She's dizzy and looks like she's going to pass out
HURRY
Across the hall, Carter's phone buzzes.
He glances down—just one line.
His jaw tightens. The color drains from his face so fast it's almost alarming.
He's moving before the second vibration even finishes, already halfway out of his chair, already pushing open the conference room door without knocking.
"Amanda," he says sharply, voice cutting through the room. "Ericka's office. 911. Now."
Something in his tone snaps the air.
Amanda doesn't ask a single question.
Her chair screeches violently against the floor as she stands, the sound slicing through the meeting. Heads turn. Someone opens their mouth to speak—but Amanda is already gone.
She's running before the door even closes behind Carter.
The hallway stretches too long.
Her heels strike the floor hard, fast, echoing as she sprints past glass offices and open workspaces. Employees look up from their desks just in time to see her fly past—Amanda Parker, composed, unshakable Amanda—running full speed, face pale, eyes wide with something close to terror.
Conversations die mid-sentence.
Monitors are forgotten.
People stand instinctively, chairs scraping back.
"What's happening?"
"Is that—"
"Oh my god—"
Someone near the printers whispers, "That's Ericka's office."
And suddenly, everyone knows.
The hallway blurs.
Please be okay. Please be okay. Please—
Amanda reaches the corner and doesn't slow down. She throws Ericka's office door open hard enough that it slams against the wall.
Inside, chaos has already taken shape.
Leah is holding Ericka upright in the chair, one arm locked tight around her shoulders, the other bracing her at the waist. Papers are scattered across the floor like they were knocked aside in a hurry. A water glass lies tipped over, spreading slowly into the rug.
Ericka's head lifts weakly.
Her eyes find Amanda immediately.
Relief crashes over her face first—pure, instinctive—
And then the fear breaks through completely.
Tears spill without warning, unchecked now, tracking down her cheeks as her breathing turns shallow and uneven, chest hitching like she can't quite get enough air.
"Baby..." she whispers, voice trembling, fragile in a way Amanda has never heard before. "Help me. Something's wrong."
She reaches out, fingers shaking, barely brushing the sleeve of Amanda's jacket—
And then her knees give out.
"Ericka!" Amanda cries.
She lunges forward just in time, catching her as her body goes slack, the full weight of her collapsing into Amanda's arms.
They hit the floor together, Amanda dropping to her knees as she cradles Ericka against her chest, one arm under her shoulders, the other supporting her head.
Ericka is completely unconscious.
"I've got you," Amanda whispers urgently, hands shaking as she pushes Ericka's hair back from her face, brushing her thumb over her cheek, her jaw, desperate for any response. "I'm here. I'm right here."
Nothing.
Outside the open door, employees have gathered without realizing it—standing frozen in the hallway, watching in stunned silence. No one speaks. No one breathes too loudly. The sight of their CEO collapsed in her assistant's arms is something none of them were prepared for.
Leah looks up, sees them—sees that—and makes a split-second decision.
She rises quickly, moving to the door and pulling it shut with firm finality.
The soft click of it closing cuts off the hallway, the whispers, the stares.
Privacy.
Protection.
Leah locks the door, then turns back immediately, phone already in her hand.
"I'm calling it in," she says, voice tight but steady.
Amanda doesn't look up.
She just tightens her hold, rocking slightly, as if sheer will alone could keep Ericka anchored to her.
Amanda presses her forehead to Ericka's temple, breath coming fast and uneven now, fear flooding her chest so hard it almost knocks the air out of her.
"Stay with me," she murmurs, voice breaking despite her effort to stay steady. "Please. Just stay with me."
"Breathe... come on, breathe," Amanda whispers, counting under her breath.
She feels it.
A shallow breath. Weak, but there.
"Oh thank God," Amanda exhales, voice breaking. Her hand slides to Ericka's neck, fingers searching for a pulse. It's there — fast, unsteady, but there.
"Okay. Okay. You're breathing," Amanda says, more to herself than anyone else. "Stay with me, love. Please stay with me."
Ericka's face is pale now, lashes fluttering but not opening.
Behind them, chaos snaps into motion.
Leah is already on the phone, pacing just far enough away to give Amanda space, her voice sharp and focused.
"Yes—hi. We have an unconscious adult female, mid-thirties," Leah says quickly. "She collapsed suddenly, dizzy beforehand. She is breathing but unresponsive. We're at Mathews Co., top floor executive offices—yes, we have security clearing the elevator now."
She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide but steady. "No known injury. Possible medical episode. Please hurry."
Amanda cradles Ericka's head closer to her chest, brushing her hair back again and again like it might wake her.
"Hey," she murmurs urgently. "It's me. I'm here. You're not alone, okay?"
Her voice cracks despite her trying to keep it together.
"Just breathe for me. That's all you have to do."
Leah drops to a knee beside them as she finishes the call.
"They're on the way," she says softly, placing a hand on Amanda's shoulder. "Two minutes out."
Amanda nods, swallowing hard, never taking her eyes off Ericka's face.
"Okay," she whispers. "Okay. We can do two minutes."
She presses a kiss to Ericka's forehead, her voice barely holding.
"Just... stay with me."
Time stretches — elastic, unreal.
Amanda keeps talking, even though Ericka doesn't respond. She talks because silence feels dangerous.
"I've got you," she whispers, thumb stroking slow, grounding circles at Ericka's temple. "You're okay. You scared me, but you're okay. We're right here."
Ericka's chest rises again — shallow, uneven — and Amanda exhales like she's been holding her breath for hours.
Leah stays kneeling close, one hand hovering, ready. "Pulse is still there," she says quietly, checking again. "Fast, but steady."
Amanda nods, eyes glossy. "She said something was wrong. She knew something was wrong."
"I know," Leah says. "You did everything right."
Footsteps thunder in the hallway.
Security first — clearing the space, voices low and urgent. Then the elevator dings, sharp and loud, cutting through Amanda's nerves like glass.
"Paramedics are here."
Two EMTs rush in with a stretcher and equipment, the room snapping into order under their calm efficiency.
"What happened?" one asks, already kneeling.
"She felt dizzy," Leah answers quickly. "Tried to stand, lost balance, collapsed. Unconscious for about a minute. She's breathing."
Amanda leans forward, voice urgent and shaking despite her effort to stay steady.
"She's pregnant," she says. "Early. And she's been under a lot of stress."
Both EMTs look up immediately — attention sharpening.
"Pregnant," one repeats, nodding. "Okay. Thank you for telling us."
They move faster now — oxygen mask placed gently over Ericka's face, blood pressure cuff wrapped around her arm, pulse oximeter clipped on.
"Ma'am? Ericka, can you hear me?" one EMT asks clearly.
No response.
They check her pupils, then her blood sugar. Numbers are murmured quietly between them.
Amanda scoots back just enough to let them work, but she refuses to let go of Ericka's hand. Her grip is firm, anchoring.
"She told me something was wrong," Amanda adds, voice breaking just slightly. "Right before she passed out."
"We've got her," the EMT reassures, meeting Amanda's eyes. "You did the right thing. You got help fast."
As they carefully lift Ericka onto the stretcher, Amanda leans down, pressing her forehead to Ericka's.
"I'm right here," she whispers fiercely. "I'm not going anywhere. You hear me? You and me. Always."
Ericka doesn't answer — but her fingers twitch, faint but unmistakable, curling weakly around Amanda's.
Amanda clutches that tiny movement like it's oxygen.
"Can I ride with her?" she asks immediately. "I'm her wife."
"Yes," the EMT says without hesitation. "You can come."
As they wheel Ericka toward the elevator, the office is silent — stunned, watching.
Carter looks pale. Maria has a hand over her mouth. Jamie's eyes shine with unshed tears.
Leah walks beside Amanda. "I'll follow," she says softly. "I'll handle work. You stay with her."
Amanda nods, tears finally spilling as the elevator doors slide closed.
Inside the elevator, the hum is too loud. Too quiet. Too much.
Amanda holds Ericka's hand with both of hers now, whispering over and over —
"Stay with me. Please. Stay with me."
The ER waiting area smells like antiseptic and burned coffee.
Amanda has never hated a room more.
She's pacing — not sitting, not standing still — pacing the same strip of tile between two chairs like if she keeps moving, something bad won't catch up to her. Her hands won't stop shaking. She keeps wiping them on her pants even though they're dry.
They took Ericka through the double doors ten minutes ago.
Ten minutes that feel like a lifetime.
"Amanda."
She turns fast.
Leah is coming toward her, eyes soft, face tight with worry. Before Amanda can even try to pull herself together, Leah wraps her into a hug.
And that's it.
Amanda breaks.
"She was fine," Amanda chokes. "She was just—she was standing there and then she looked at me and said something was wrong and then—"
"I know," Leah murmurs, holding her steady. "I saw how fast you ran. You didn't miss anything."
Amanda presses her forehead into Leah's shoulder, breathing hard. "They won't let me back there. They won't tell me anything."
"They will," Leah says gently. "They're stabilizing her first."
Amanda nods, even though the words don't help. Nothing helps except seeing Ericka — and she can't.
She pulls out her phone with trembling fingers.
Amanda → Samantha
911. Hospital. Ericka collapsed at work. Bring her family. Please.
She stares at the screen until the "Delivered" shows up, then locks the phone like it might bite her.
"I should've been there," Amanda whispers.
Leah pulls back just enough to look at her. "You were there."
Amanda shakes her head. "I wasn't fast enough."
"That's not how this works," Leah says firmly. "And you know it."
The doors swing open again.
A nurse steps out, clipboard in hand.
Amanda is on her feet instantly. "Hi. That's—my wife. Ericka Mathews. Can you—can you tell me anything?"
The nurse glances at the chart. "She's stable. We're running tests. As soon as the doctor clears it, you'll be allowed back."
Stable.
Amanda lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding — but it comes out shaky, uneven.
"Is she awake?"
"Not yet," the nurse says honestly. "But she's breathing on her own. And the baby is stable as well."
Amanda's knees nearly give out.
Leah grabs her elbow just in time. "Hey. Sit. Please."
Amanda sits — barely — hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles ache.
Ten more minutes crawl by.
Footsteps rush down the hall.
Ericka's mom appears first, eyes already red, scanning the room wildly until she spots Amanda.
"Oh—" she breathes, crossing the room quickly.
Ericka's dad follows, jaw tight, one arm wrapped around Danielle, who looks like she's trying not to fall apart entirely.
Amanda stands immediately. "They just took her back. She collapsed at work. She said something was wrong and then she—"
Ericka's mom pulls Amanda into a hug without hesitation.
"Thank you," she whispers. "For being with her."
"I couldn't go back yet," Amanda says, voice breaking. "They wouldn't let me."
"That's okay," her mom says gently. "You're here now."
Danielle steps forward, eyes glossy. "She's gonna be fine. She has to be."
Amanda nods, swallowing hard. "She will be."
They sit together — Amanda on the edge of the chair, bouncing her knee, watching the doors like she can will them open.
Every sound makes her look up.
Every minute feels too long.
Amanda presses her palms together and whispers, barely audible:
"Please... just let me see her."
And she waits.
The double doors swing open again.
This time, it's a doctor.
Mid-40s, calm face, tired eyes — the kind of expression that instantly makes your heart race because you can't tell yet if it's good news or bad.
Amanda is on her feet before anyone else.
"That's my wife," she says immediately, voice tight. "Ericka Mathews."
The doctor nods. "I'm Dr. Reynolds. Are you her family?"
"Yes," Amanda answers without hesitation. "All of us are."
Ericka's parents step closer. Danielle grips the back of a chair like it's the only thing keeping her upright.
The doctor gestures gently toward a quieter corner. "Let's talk."
Amanda's chest feels hollow as she follows, her fingers laced together so tightly they ache.
Dr. Reynolds takes a breath. "First — Ericka is stable."
Amanda exhales sharply, the sound almost a sob.
"She's still unconscious," the doctor continues, "but she's breathing on her own, her vitals are steady, and the baby is okay."
Ericka's mom presses a hand to her chest. "Thank God."
Amanda sways slightly. Leah steadies her again, hand firm on her back.
"What happened?" Amanda asks. "She said something was wrong. She got dizzy. She couldn't stand."
"We're still running tests," Dr. Reynolds says carefully. "Right now, we believe it was a syncopal episode — a fainting spell — likely triggered by a combination of factors."
"Like what?" Danielle asks, voice tight.
"Pregnancy can change blood pressure dramatically," he explains. "Dehydration, stress, not eating enough, sudden position changes — all of those can contribute. Especially in high-stress individuals."
Amanda's jaw tightens. "She's been under a lot of stress."
The doctor nods. "That lines up."
"Is she in danger?" Amanda asks, barely above a whisper.
"At the moment — no," he says gently. "But we're being cautious. We've ordered labs, an EKG, and we're monitoring both her and the baby closely."
"Can we see her?" Ericka's dad asks.
Dr. Reynolds looks at Amanda. "One person for now."
Amanda doesn't even think.
"Please."
The doctor nods. "She hasn't woken up yet, but you can sit with her."
Amanda turns to Ericka's mom, eyes shining with unshed tears. "I'll come get you the second they say yes."
Her mom cups Amanda's face briefly. "She's lucky to have you."
Amanda swallows hard. "I'm the lucky one."
The doctor gestures toward the doors. "This way."
As Amanda follows him down the hall, her steps feel unsteady — like her body hasn't caught up to reality yet.
Right before the doors open, Dr. Reynolds pauses.
"One more thing," he says quietly. "When she does wake up, she may be confused. Talk to her. Keep her calm."
Amanda nods. "I will."
The doors open.
And Amanda finally sees her.