14. Pierce
PIERCE
The quarterly projections weren't adding up the way they should've been.
I'd been staring at the same spreadsheet for twenty minutes, my mind drifting every time I tried to focus on the numbers in front of me.
It had been like this for eleven days. Work that used to take me an hour was stretching into half a day, and I couldn't seem to get my head straight long enough to make it matter.
Hannah was gone. The house felt too big and too quiet.
And I kept catching myself reaching for my phone to call her before remembering she wouldn't answer.
I was trying to figure out where the third-quarter revenue had gone sideways when Carter walked into my office without knocking.
He didn't look like he was here to talk business. His jaw was tight, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he had that look he got when he was about to say something I wouldn't like. I set down my pen and sat back in my chair.
"Pierce." He shut the door behind him with a quiet click. "We need to talk."
"About what?"
"About Sienna Tatum."
My stomach dropped, but I kept my face neutral.
Jesus. Not this again. Carter had never liked Sienna, and I'd never understood why.
She was good at her job. She kept my calendar running, my events planned, my life organized in ways I didn't have time to manage myself.
But Carter had made his opinion clear before, more than once, and I was tired of hearing it.
"What about her?" I asked.
Carter stayed standing. He crossed his arms, and I could see the tension in his shoulders. "She's taken over Hannah's life, Pierce. You need to see that."
I felt my jaw tighten. "That's not what's happening."
"Isn't it?" His voice was blunt, the way it always was when he thought I was being an idiot. "The parties, Pierce. The house. The baby shower. The nursery. All of it. Sienna's been running everything that should've been Hannah's."
God, I wanted him to stop talking. I wanted to tell him to get out and leave me alone, but I couldn't make myself say it. Instead I just sat there, my hands flat on the desk, trying not to let him see that his words were landing.
"Sienna's my event planner," I said. My voice came out clipped. "That's her job."
"Her job is to plan events," Carter said. He didn't move, didn't back down. "Corporate dinners. Fundraisers. Gallery openings. That's what you pay her for. Not to plan your wife's baby shower. Not to design your kid's nursery."
The words hit harder than I wanted them to.
I thought about the shower three weeks ago, the one Sienna had organized without asking Hannah what she wanted.
Hannah had sat in the middle of the room looking small and uncomfortable, smiling a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
I'd told myself she was just tired. Pregnant women got tired. It was normal.
"She stepped in because I asked her to," I said. "Hannah was overwhelmed. I thought it would help."
Carter looked at me like I'd just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "Hannah's been gone for eleven days, Pierce. She's pregnant with your kid. And Sienna's still here, still running things, still acting like she's your wife instead of someone you hired to plan parties."
I stood up. My pulse kicked up, frustration climbing in my chest. "Sienna's not running anything. She's doing her job. That's all she's ever done."
"Is it?" Carter's voice was quieter now, but it still cut. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like she's been pushing Hannah out for months, maybe longer."
"Sienna hasn't taken anything," I snapped. "Hannah left. She walked out. Sienna's just been helping me keep everything together while I try to figure out how to fix this."
"Fix it?" Carter shook his head. "Pierce, you can't fix something if you don't know what's broken. And what's broken is that Sienna Tatum took over your wife's life."
The words landed hard. I wanted to tell him he was wrong. I wanted to say she was still my wife, that I'd never let anyone take her place. But I couldn't get the words out.
"Hannah's overwhelmed," I said. My voice sounded defensive even to my own ears. "It's the pregnancy. It's not about Sienna."
"You sure about that?" Carter asked. "Because your wife is gone, Pierce.
She's carrying your baby, and she left you.
And the woman who's been running her life is still here, still in your office, still planning things like she has a right to.
If you can't see what's wrong with that picture, then I don't know what to tell you. "
I wanted to argue. I wanted to defend Sienna, to explain that she was just doing her job, that I'd relied on her because I'd needed someone competent to handle the logistics I didn't have time for.
But the explanation felt hollow even as I was thinking it.
Because Carter was right about one thing — Sienna was still here, and Hannah was gone.
"She doesn't belong in Hannah's place," I said.
The words came out quieter than I meant them to.
"Nobody does. Sienna's just good at what she does.
I rely on her because she gets things done, and I don't have time to micromanage every detail.
That's it. Sienna has only helped. The matter's closed, Carter. "
Carter stared at me for a long moment. I could see him deciding whether to push harder or let it go. Finally, he sighed and dropped his arms to his sides.
"Fine," he said. "If that's how you want to see it."
"It's how it is."
"Okay, Pierce." He turned toward the door, then stopped and looked back at me. His expression was tired, like he'd just run out of patience. "But you might want to ask yourself why Hannah left, and why Sienna's still here. Because until you figure that out, nothing's going to change."
Then he was gone, and I was alone.
I stood there for a minute, my hands still braced on the desk, my pulse still running too fast. The office felt too quiet.
Carter didn't know what he was talking about.
He'd always been suspicious of Sienna, and I'd never understood it.
She was professional. She was efficient.
She'd never done anything to make me think she wanted more than what I paid her to do.
Except.
God, I didn't want to think about it. But the memory came up anyway, sharp and uncomfortable — Sienna in this office eight days ago, standing too close, her hand on my shoulder, then my chest, then my tie.
You're not happy with her. She's a teacher who thinks hosting a dinner party is work.
I'd told her it stops here and asked her to leave.
And I'd spent the last week trying not to think about it.
But Carter's words were still rattling around in my head. The parties. The house. The baby shower. The nursery.
I sat down. The nursery came first, the one upstairs that Sienna had designed down to the last detail.
Every wall a smooth cool gray. A white crib, a dresser beneath the window, shelves with bins, a mobile of white and silver circles hanging still over the crib.
Sienna had called it a surprise. Hannah had looked at it and said quietly that it wasn't what she wanted, and I'd told her it was practical, that it was already done.
I thought about the baby shower. God, that shower.
Sienna had planned the whole thing without asking Hannah for input.
She'd picked the guest list, the menu, the decorations.
Hannah had smiled the whole time, a smile that didn't reach her eyes, while Sienna held court like she was the one having the baby.
I pulled open the bottom drawer of my desk.
Hannah's wedding ring was inside, wrapped in a clean white handkerchief.
I'd found it in the nursery that evening, on the shelf beside the gray elephant, where she'd left it before she walked out.
I'd kept it in this drawer ever since. I'd told myself I was keeping it safe.
That I'd give it back to her when she came home, and everything would go back to normal.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
I unwrapped the ring and held it up to the light.
A gold band with its diamond, and inside it our initials and the date we'd gotten married.
She'd never wanted anything flashy. She'd told me once that she didn't care about the size of the diamond or how much it cost. She just wanted something that meant I'd chosen her.
I remembered the day I'd put it on her finger, six years ago, and the way she'd smiled at me like I'd just given her the world.
I remembered thinking I'd do anything to keep her happy.
That I'd work hard and build a life she could be proud of, a life where she'd never have to worry about money or security or any of the things that kept people up at night.
I turned the ring over in my hand, the gold warm against my palm. Carter's voice was still in my head. Sienna's taken over Hannah's life.
I didn't want to believe it. Sienna was good at her job. That was all. She'd helped because I'd needed help, and Hannah had been overwhelmed with the pregnancy and everything else.
Hadn't she?
God, I didn't know anymore. I'd spent eleven days trying to make time for Hannah, trying to figure out how to fix this, and I still didn't have an answer. I still didn't know how to get her to come home.
Maybe Carter was right about Sienna. Or maybe she'd only been doing her job, and Carter was looking for someone to blame.
I wrapped the ring back up and put it in the drawer. The doubt was still sitting in my chest, heavy and uncomfortable and impossible to ignore. I didn't know if she'd been pushing Hannah out on purpose. But I knew one thing.
I wasn't going to ask. I wasn't going to look into it. Because if I did, and Carter was right, then I'd have to know it. And I wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
I shut the drawer and went back to the projections on my desk. The numbers were still wrong, still not adding up the way they should've been. But numbers were easy. Numbers didn't ask questions I couldn't answer. They didn't make me look at things I didn't want to see.
I could handle numbers.
Everything else could wait.