2. Chapter 2
Two Months Ago
“ W hat the hell am I doing?” I grumble to myself as I sit behind the wheel of my car. Flipping the visor down, soft country music croons from the speakers as I stare at my reflection and wonder when everything went wrong.
I barely recognize myself anymore.
My face is rounder, like my body already needs the extra cushion.
Raking my fingers through my hair, I tousle the shorter locks, hoping to revive some of the curls.
My hair used to cascade down to my lower back with the help of my extensions.
People would pass me and give me compliments on how gorgeous I was.
Now it barely brushes my shoulders, the ends unfamiliar when I run my fingers through it.
The sun-kissed blonde I spent hours at the salon achieving has taken on a darker look with my new shadow root balayage, allowing my regrowth to blend in.
These changes aren’t by choice—they’re by necessity.
Salon visits became a luxury I could no longer afford.
Not when each purchase had to be justified to make every dollar stretch a little further than before.
And since I was no longer a member of the sorority, it felt vain to shell out money on hair color and extensions.
I wish I could say I cut it for some bold, life-changing fresh start.
Too bad it was because life forced me to simplify.
Trailing my fingertips across my stomach, a subconscious habit I’ve acquired over the last couple of months, I wait to see if I can feel any flutters.
When nothing happens, I go back to examining myself one final time.
The purple tint below my eyes draws my attention.
No matter how much concealer or color corrector I pile on, the dark circles still show.
The weight of exhaustion settles heavily in my bones.
At first, the changes were subtle—just a little nausea here, a touch of congestion there.
But soon, the inside shifts became impossible to hide.
Bloating. Growing. My clothes started to cling, until one day, I couldn’t button my jeans.
Then came the loss of balance, the way every movement required more effort.
Now there’s no pretending. No hiding. My once-toned stomach curves outward—undeniable proof of the choices I’ve made. The ones I can’t take back.
I swallow, gripping the steering wheel to ground myself. No one warns you about how emotional pregnancy is. I want to cry at least seventy-five times a day.
My phone buzzes in the cupholder, distracting me from my spiral.
Ridge: Make it?
Exhaling slowly, I blink away a sudden sting in my nose. You will not cry. Not today. Just seeing his name on my phone makes me want to cry.
Most girls grow up thinking their mom hung the moon and are desperate to be like them.
I never wanted that. I spent years swearing I would never become Luann Holycross.
She lived life fast, always making decisions without thinking about the consequences.
I swore I’d never let a man dictate my life.
I wouldn’t let my life spiral out of control.
I wouldn’t make reckless decisions without analyzing all of the possibilities.
I wouldn’t become stranded in life’s dark web.
And yet here I am—pregnant, alone, staring down a future I never saw coming. A future like my mother’s.
The worst part is, I’m afraid I’ve already failed this baby.
I stare at my reflection, looking for any traces of the girl I used to know.
The girl with the plan she crafted at thirteen, when she moved in with her aunt.
The one who begged God to give her stability and control over her own life.
The one who isn’t supposed to be sitting in her car, fighting off nausea and exhaustion, and wondering if she’ll ever find a piece of the fairy tale she used to read about.
My phone buzzes again.
Ridge: Answer me or I’m driving to Texas.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I pick up my phone and respond. For a brief moment, I let myself imagine Ridge driving to Texas. I want him beside me in this so I don’t have to face it alone. But I refuse to be selfish and ruin his life too.
I made it about fifteen minutes ago.
Ridge: Fifteen minutes ago? You should have been there hours ago.
Oh, yeah. I made it back to CTU around two this morning. I thought you meant…never mind.
Ridge: Sav, where are you?
Graduation…
Ridge: Savvy…why are you doing this to yourself?
Because I promised a boy we’d graduate together.
Tossing my phone in my purse, I switch off the ignition.
Climbing out of the car, I reach over the center console and grab the gift bag.
I’m ten minutes away from making a huge mistake, but I can’t go any longer without seeing him.
Three years ago, we made a promise that we’d get to graduation together, and then our dreams would come true.
My plans may have gone off script, but I refuse to let him do this alone. It’s one promise I won’t break.
The walk from the parking lot feels like it lasts forever.
Sweat gathers around my hairline, droplets escaping down my back.
The early afternoon sun cascades down on me, heating the temperature to a balmy eighty-five degrees.
With all of my trips to Kentucky and Ohio over the last couple of weeks, I’ve grown accustomed to the spring weather in the upper sixties and low seventies.
Crowds of people have already started to gather outside the building, signaling the end of the graduation ceremony. I hope I haven’t missed my chance to see him. And I hope he still plans to meet me in the spot we promised each other years ago.
Climbing the steps, I pant as I reach the top.
Instinctively, I rub tiny circles across my bump.
Flutters follow my movement, and I can’t help the smile breaking free.
No matter how I feel about this pregnancy and how scared I am, I’ll never get tired of feeling my baby moving inside of me.
It’s such a powerful feeling. I’m growing life.
As I make my way toward the side of the building, I feel eyes on me.
Keeping my head down, I don’t look around.
I’m not ready to see familiar faces and hear the whispers.
When I told everyone I wasn’t returning to the Delta Zeta house, I blamed finances.
It wasn’t a lie. Even though these girls were supposed to be my sisters, I wasn’t prepared to voice my truth… that I was going to be a mom.
With a deep breath, I flex my fingers on my hands, willing the anxious energy to leave. My brain screams at me to turn around and do this another time, but my heart beats wildly with encouragement. I know I need to do this.
Scanning the crowd, I find him in the spot we said we’d be in.
Only, he’s not alone. Both of his parents look at him—pride, admiration, joy, and love shine in their eyes.
His mom fusses about, fixing his tassels and making sure everything is perfect.
Her features remind me so much of Bret. Even from here, I can tell they both have the same eyes and smile.
Whereas Coach Campbell stands still, waiting to be directed.
He might run the field, but it’s clear his wife runs the rest. She’s currently moving his arm into place for the perfect picture.
I can’t help but stand there and watch, hiding in the shadows.
My chest squeezes at the realization I’ll never have that.
Not only do I have no idea who my dad is, but I have no idea where my mom is, either.
Even if I had been walking across the stage today with my social work degree, she wouldn’t have been here.
I’m sure my aunt and cousin would fly down, but it’s not something I would have asked them to do.
Since coming to CTU, I’ve accepted I’m on my own, and I’m truly okay with that.
A long flutter takes flight in my belly, and I remember I’m no longer alone.
I smile at the notion, rubbing the spot where I felt the flutters.
As I turn my attention back to Grant and his family, Crew Riggsby, Grant’s sister’s boyfriend, captures my attention.
He’s staring right at me, his eyes bulging out of his head like a cartoon character.
My breath catches in my throat as I watch him nudge Bret. Her gaze sweeps the sidewalk before locking onto mine. Confusion furrows her brow, and I see the exact moment she notices my bump. Her chest hitches, and I swear I can hear the intake of air. So many things happen in a matter of seconds…
Bret mouths what the fuck , or at least I think she mouths the words. I’m too far away to hear. Mrs. Campbell turns and scolds Bret while Grant looks at his sister as if she’s grown two heads.
But it doesn’t take long before he follows the path of her gaze.
A rush of emotions slams into me, and I take a hesitant step out of the shadows.
As Grant turns his full attention my way, I register the look of shock on his normally grumpy face.
Even with it being his graduation, his broody personality hasn’t left.
Our feet carry us toward each other like two magnets. I hate the wrinkles creasing his forehead. I can’t even imagine what’s going through his mind. I instantly regret my decision to show up here. Look at me making another terrible decision.
“Sav.” His voice is a low rumble. A woodsy mixture of cedar and whiskey floods my senses, making my pulse hitch.
“Congratulations, Sunshine.” The words come out soft, only for him to hear. The corner of his lips quirks the same way it always does when I call him the nickname I gave him years ago. It’s always been our little secret.
In a flash, that sweet smile is off his face, replaced with a flare of anger? As he stares at my belly. “Sav…”
“Grant, honey,” Mrs. Campbell interrupts. “Who’s your friend?”
Peeking over Grant’s shoulder, I find his entire family watching our exchange. Nerves course through my veins, twisting my stomach and causing different flutters.
Grant reaches forward before flexing his fingers and placing his hand back down at his side. I crave his touch and hate how he pulls away from me. It’s expected, but it doesn’t ease the hurt any less.
His eyes flash between mine before he turns around. “This is Savannah.”
“Savannah,” his mom repeats, recognition in her voice. “This is Savannah .”
If I’m not mistaken, I believe Grant Campbell’s cheeks flush a shade of pink. Is he embarrassed? And how much do his parents know about me?
“Sweetheart.” Mrs. Campbell moves closer, and I can’t miss the way she takes me in—all of me. “We were heading to dinner. Please join us.”
My eyes move from hers, where I'm in complete shock, to Grant, who has shifted away from me. His eyes are downcast, and for the first time, I can’t get a read on him.
Grant Campbell might have the world fooled, but I’ve always been able to read his every thought. But today is the first time I can’t.
“Oh no, thank you so much for the offer, Mrs. Campbell.” I pause, stretching out the blue gift bag I had dangling from my hands. “I only came to tell Grant congratulations and give him this.”
The bag hangs from my hand as an awkward silence falls over us.
Grant doesn’t move, his stare searing into me.
Time stands still as I wait with bated breath for him to take the gift.
When I think he’s going to ignore me, I begin to lower the bag, opting to place it at his feet, when his hand flashes out and grabs the strap.
“Th–” he starts before clearing his throat. “Thank you, Savannah.”
Savannah. Not Sav. Why does hearing my full name hurt so much, coming from his lips? Lips I’ve spent hours kissing. A face I’ve spent hours memorizing.
With a terse nod and a tight-lipped smile, I wave at his family before turning on my heels. My breathing stalls, my lungs feel like they’re going to explode, and moisture gathers in the corner of my eyes…again.
“Sav.” Grant’s voice halts me in my step. Without turning around and risking him seeing my pained expression, I turn my face slightly. “Come to dinner with us.”
I shake my head and go to object before he cuts me off.
“Please.”