Chapter 16
ETHAN
Iwas halfway through reviewing a quarterly report when my phone vibrated beside my keyboard. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I saw Callie’s name flash across the screen. My breath stalled in my chest.
I grabbed the phone so fast I nearly knocked over my coffee. The preview of her message made my pulse slam against my ribs.
I opened it, and the world dropped out from under me. I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The words blurred as my vision stung, but I kept reading them over and over, as if my brain refused to believe they were real.
She was pregnant.
A ragged sound tore out of me. I pushed away from my desk, standing because sitting felt impossible with my chest caving in on itself.
I hadn’t been there when my wife found out she was carrying my baby. She’d been alone in a shitty hotel bathroom. Because of me.
My stomach twisted so violently I had to brace a hand on the edge of the desk. Guilt hit first, followed by a swell of overwhelming love that couldn’t be contained.
My hands shook as I typed.
Me
Callie, please. Let me see you. Anywhere. Anytime. Just tell me where and when.
I stared at the message after I sent it, my jaw clenched and my heart hammering hard. Every second she didn’t reply felt like a punishment I’d earned a thousand times over.
Then three dots finally appeared.
I held perfectly still, barely breathing until her reply came.
Callie
We can meet in the lobby of my hotel. Fifteen minutes.
Relief hit so fast my knees almost buckled. She was giving me a chance. Maybe the smallest one in existence, but I’d take it.
I grabbed my jacket, my keys, anything I needed to get out the door. Then I typed the only thing I could manage as I ran for the elevator.
Me
Send me the address. I’ll be there.
It took me fourteen minutes to make the drive. The hotel was nothing like the places I’d taken Callie before. The lobby furniture was worn, failing under the weight of too many bodies and too many years.
I stood near the far wall, clutching my phone like it was the only thing keeping me upright. Then the elevator dinged. When Callie stepped out, I felt like I took my first full breath since she walked out.
With dark circles under her eyes, she looked exhausted, but she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Her hand drifted toward her stomach in a small, protective gesture that nearly brought me to my knees.
“Callie,” I breathed.
She stopped a few feet from me. “You wanted to talk.”
“I wanted to apologize.” I gestured toward the nearest couch. “And explain. But I don’t even know where to start.”
She perched on the edge of the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “Start wherever you need to.”
I nodded, swallowing hard before I forced myself to look her in the eyes. “Everything that happened, it wasn’t just me dropping the ball. There was more to it all than Sophie confessing her feelings to me the night of the gala. I told you that part already. But it wasn’t just that.”
“I was glad you shared that with me.” She pressed her lips into a firm line before confessing, “I actually overheard part of your conversation with her on the terrace during the gala. You told her you were glad she said it, and I was terrified of what might come next, so I left.”
I closed my eyes for a second, hating myself all over again.
“I only said that because it’s disrespectful to you if I work closely with someone who has romantic feelings for me.
Sophie’s confession gave me the ammunition I needed to have her moved within the company.
To shut it down completely and make sure she never came near us again.
I told her it was inappropriate, that I’m married to the only woman I’ll ever love, and that she wouldn’t be working with me anymore.
I was glad she told me so I could protect you.
Not because I felt anything for her. Never. ”
Her eyes searched mine, glossy and guarded. “It didn’t sound like that when I walked away.”
“I know.” My voice cracked. “And I’ll regret those words hurting you for the rest of my life. For making you leave me.
She shook her head. “It was only part of the reason.”
“I know I messed up long before that night,” I agreed, clenching my fist so I didn’t reach for her hand. “My mother asked me to hire Sophie so they could conspire against us.”
I filled her in on everything I discovered during our time apart, ending with how Gage fired Sophie and I limited my mother’s access to the trust. A quiet tremor worked through her fingers before she clasped them together, but she didn’t say anything.
“I should’ve protected you. Should’ve seen what she was trying to do. But I’m fixing it. She can’t use my father’s legacy to manipulate me anymore.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You’ve really gone no contact with her?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “I have emails and the updated trust documents if you want to see them. Screenshots of the logs. Whatever you need. I understand why my word might not be enough right now. I want you to have the proof.”
For the first time since she arrived, she looked directly at me. The pain in her gorgeous eyes gutted me. “I’m glad you finally saw it. I am. But that doesn’t undo what happened. I was hurting long before the gala.”
“I know, and I’m not here to push you. I just…” My gaze dropped to her stomach before I could stop it. “I needed you to know I was already choosing you before I found out about our baby.”
Her posture softened the tiniest bit. “I don’t know if I’m ready to trust that.”
“After what I put you through, that’s fair.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, her shoulders shaking with the deep breath she took. When she opened them again, they were glossy but clear.
“Thank you. That means more than you know.”
Even though we were only sitting inches apart, it felt like there were miles between us. But at least we were finally facing each other instead of turning away.
The silence between us stretched, heavy but not hostile. It was just full of all the things we weren’t ready to talk about yet.
Callie’s fingers toyed with the strap of her purse, her posture tense but not closed off. I didn’t know if I’d ever earn the right to reach for her hand again, but I needed to ask her for one thing.
I drew a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know I’ve forfeited the right to expect anything from you. You don’t owe me forgiveness.”
Her chin trembled almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t look away.
“But I want to show up for our child from the very first moment I’m allowed to. Will you let me be there for your first prenatal appointment?”
She didn’t answer immediately. I could see the war happening behind her eyes—duty to our child versus self-protection. I forced myself to stay perfectly still, hands on my knees while she considered my request.
Her hand drifted to her belly again. “For the baby, yes.”
I nodded without hesitation, my shoulders slumping with relief. “I understand.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. “I’ll call the clinic today and get an appointment. I’ll let you know when it is.”
“Thank you.” The two simple words carried the weight of everything I couldn’t ask for yet.
She stood, her purse sliding onto her shoulder, and I rose automatically. For a moment we just looked at each other—two people who used to be everything to one another, now separated by more than just space. Then she turned toward the elevator.
No matter how much every instinct pushed me to follow her, I didn’t. Respecting her boundaries mattered more than my own panic.
I didn’t go back to the office. The last thing I wanted was to feel the weight of a hundred eyes on me.
As soon as I got in the car, I hit the call button for Harper.
She answered on the second ring. “Good afternoon, Mr. Prescott.”
“I’m heading to the penthouse. I’ll be working from my home office the rest of the day. Forward anything urgent to me.”
There was a soft shuffle of papers on her end. “Of course. Do you need me to prep anything specific?”
“No. Just hold my calls unless it’s critical.”
“Understood.”
I hung up and gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened, driving home on autopilot. My mind wouldn’t stop replaying the exhaustion evident on Callie’s face.
By the time I stepped out of the elevator into the penthouse, my nerves were frayed. I paced the living room, gripping my phone like I expected it to vibrate any second.
It finally did, thirty excruciating minutes after I left the hotel.
For a half second, I just stared at the screen, terrified answering would break whatever fragile thread she’d offered me. Then I forced my thumb to move. “Callie?”
“I got an appointment. There was a cancellation for tomorrow morning.”
Relief hit so sharply I had to brace a hand on the back of the couch to stay steady. “That’s good.”
“I’ll text you the time and the address.”
“Thank you,” I murmured. “I’ll be there early. If you want privacy, I can wait in the hall. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”
There was the faintest pause on the line—barely a heartbeat, but enough that I felt it.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
We hung up a moment later, and I stood in the middle of our living room, my phone still pressed to my ear, as though it kept me connected to her.
She’d texted me about being pregnant, but she’d called about the appointment.
It wasn’t forgiveness. Not even close. But it was a crack in the wall she’d been forced to build to protect herself from me.
Tomorrow, I’d show her I meant every promise I’d made, through actions instead of words.