Chapter 29 Nova
nova
“Did you ever open that envelope on the counter that said urgent?”
Luna and I were on the sofa together. She’d kicked out the two ball-gag guys earlier, but had come whining to my door not long after, insisting she needed some aftercare.
Evidently, I was the only one capable of soothing her, so here I was, braiding her hair while we both lounged in our robes, watching some trashy sitcom on her iPad.
“Oh shit. No.” I froze for a second before jumping up and heading to my room to grab the envelope.
I came back, staring at the bold URGENT printed across the top.
I sat down slowly, the envelope heavy in my hands as Luna shifted beside me. My freshly braided hair swung over my shoulders as I moved, the two neat French braids she’d just finished resting against my robe.
The documents inside looked official—thick paper, crisp lettering, and a bold header that made my stomach twist before I even read it.
“Looks like it’s from a lawyer or something.” Luna craned her neck to peek over my shoulder. “Maybe the final bit of your divorce?”
I shook my head, my brows furrowing. “No. It can’t be. I’ve already gotten all the documents for that.”
The papers slipped out easily, and I scanned the first page. It explained that there was an account opened in my name at a well-known US bank. A separate piece of paper accompanied it, listing details about a debit card.
“Did you open a new account here?” Luna glanced at the paper in my hand.
“No,” I muttered as I kept reading. “It has to be a scam.”
As I trailed my eyes farther down, my breath caught. My name, Nova Hart, was clearly printed at the top. The account number, 00788727, stared back at me. And then the transfer line.
From: Austin Hart.
At the very bottom, the balance stared back at me.
$1,400,000.
My stomach flipped. This wasn’t just a transfer. He’d opened the account for me.
My mouth dropped, as my stomach seemed to leap into my throat. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, my hands trembling as I passed the paper to Luna.
Her eyes widened, and she scrambled to sit up, nearly dropping the document in her haste. “Holy shit,” she gasped, her voice rising with disbelief. “We’re millionaires.”
She stared at me, her expression wild and incredulous, while I sat frozen.
“I can’t accept this.”
“You absolutely can and will.” Luna threw the paper back at me and stood up. “He fucked you over. Not only do you deserve this amount, but you’re out here, raising a baby, and he’s over there doing . . .”
“Ugh,” I groaned.
“You haven’t called him, have you?”
I shook my head. “No. I’ve chickened out, but I guess . . .”
I looked down at the paper in my hand. We could afford this apartment. I’d be able to afford childcare for the baby when I had to go back to work.
Luna plopped back on the sofa, swirling her wine glass and giving me a pointed look. “You need to call him. Now.”
I hesitated, clutching the paper in my hands like it might slip away. “Why?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Let me make this crystal clear—I’m not on his side.
Not even a little. If you’re going to accept this amount—and you absolutely should—you need to take it without guilt.
No second-guessing yourself.” She pointed at the paper.
“Nova, this isn’t some grand gesture. It’s not him being kind or thoughtful.
This is what’s owed to you. He sent this because he knows.
He knows he fucked up. He knows he hurt you—physically, emotionally, in every way possible. ”
Her eyes softened as she leaned closer. “This money isn’t a gift.
It’s a divorce settlement, plain and simple.
And yeah, maybe it’s his way of trying to patch the holes he ripped open in your life.
But it’s owed to you, Nova. For everything he put you through.
For the baby you’re raising without him. ”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off.
“I know you,” she added, her voice dropping lower. “I know you won’t take it, not fully, until you’ve told him. Until you’ve had your say. You’ll keep carrying this guilt around, acting like you’re taking something you don’t deserve. But you do. You more than deserve this.”
She picked up the envelope and pressed it against my chest, her eyes locking onto mine.
“Once you accept this, it’ll be better for you. For your head, for your heart. No guilt, no shame. Use it to build the life you and that little girl deserve.”
I swallowed hard as her words sank in. She wasn’t wrong.
Luna pressed me for the name, and without hesitation, I said, “Cross Haven.” I’d memorized that detail—his words at the press conference burned into my mind.
Not because I wanted to be there with him, but because I was terrified of what it would mean if he got out and wasn’t better.
“I don’t even know if he’s still there,” I whispered. “It’s been months.”
Luna didn’t hesitate, pulling her phone out and dialing the number. She stood there, her face calm and composed as she waited for someone to pick up.
“Hi,” she said brightly, “I’m calling to ask about a patient—Austin Hart.”
The voice on the other end must have said something about confidentiality because Luna didn’t miss a beat. “Right, I get that. Hold on. Here’s his wife.” She shoved the phone at me without warning, her expression daring me to argue.
I mouthed at her, “We’re divorced.”
“They don’t know that,” she whispered.
I hesitated, then pressed the phone to my ear. “Um, hi. My name is Nova Hart. I was just wondering . . . How is he doing?”
There was a pause on the other end before the voice softened slightly. “Oh, okay. Yes. Mr. Hart is here. He’s going to need to extend his program by six months.”
My stomach twisted painfully. Six more months. He wasn’t doing well. He’d barely been there two and a half months, and now they were saying he’d need nearly a full year.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I ended the call.
Tears spilled over before I could stop them, hot and insistent as I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t have my daughter around an addict, Luna,” I choked out, the words ripping from my chest. “I can’t do it.”
Luna wrapped an arm around my shoulders, her grip firm. “You won’t have to,” she murmured. “You’re already doing this on your own. And you’re doing it beautifully.”
Her hand stayed on my shoulder, her voice soft but steady as she asked, “Do you think you should call his mom? Auburn might—”
I shook my head sharply. “No— I—” My breath came quicker, panic bubbling to the surface as I gripped the paper in my lap, my hands trembling. “Luna, I cannot raise my daughter around an addict.”
The words came out rushed, like I couldn’t get them out fast enough, like they might choke me if I didn’t speak them aloud. An unbearable pressure built as tears blurred my vision.
My hands shook uncontrollably, and the panic clawed its way through me, flooding every inch of my body. “I can’t do it. I can’t let her be near that. Not when I’ve already had to . . .” My voice cracked, and I couldn’t finish.
Luna turned toward me fully, pulling me into her arms without hesitation. “Breathe, Nova,” she said, her tone calm and grounding. “Breathe. You don’t have to make any decisions right this second.”
I nodded, but the panic still swirled inside me, refusing to settle. My daughter’s safety, her future—it was all I could think about.
“Nova, listen to me. No one even knows you’re pregnant. You’re in control here.”
I couldn’t hear her over the pounding in my ears, the way my breath wouldn’t come. “I can’t breathe, Luna,” I gasped, clutching my hand to my chest. Everything constricted, like my ribs were closing in around me.
“Look at me. Focus.”
The tightness wouldn’t let up. My hands shook as the edges of my vision blurred. “Call an ambulance.”
It was the last thing I said before everything went dark.
“She had a panic attack, it appears. She’s all hydrated now and should—” The nurse, dressed in a crisp white uniform with a name badge pinned neatly to her chest, approached my bed. She adjusted the sleek, motorized bed so I was sitting upright. “Ah-ha. She’s awake.”
I blinked a few times, the bright but diffused light making my eyes water as I tried to focus. The room slowly came into view—cream-colored walls adorned with minimalist artwork. The faint smell of antiseptic lingered.
As my vision cleared, I saw them—Luna perched on the armchair, scrolling her phone, and Ollie leaning against the wall near the door.
“What’re you doing here?” I croaked, my voice raspy and weak.
Luna didn’t even look up from her phone. “I called him to tell him what happened, and he came over.”
I groaned, louder than I meant to, the sound echoing in the spacious room. It was supposed to stay internal, but my body had other plans.
Ollie raised a brow, the corner of his mouth quirking like he was fighting back a grin. He didn’t say anything, simply watched me with that infuriating, unreadable expression of his.
Luna finally looked up, smirking. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
The nurse adjusted the blanket over my lap, giving me a polite smile before walking to check the machines by the bed and exiting the room.
I closed my eyes briefly, willing myself to stay calm despite the embarrassment.
It was all too much—the pristine room, the sharp concern in Ollie’s eyes, Luna’s unbothered demeanor.
I wanted to disappear into the pillows behind me.
“What happened?” I turned my head to Luna.
“You were having a panic attack because we became millionaires.”
“Millionaires?” Ollie’s mouth dropped as he pushed off the wall and strode over to the bed, his eyes darting between me and Luna like he’d misheard.
“You didn’t tell him?” I asked Luna.
“Not my place.”
Maybe it wasn’t her place to tell him, but she didn’t exactly seem shy about hinting at the bombshell either.
I rubbed my temples, trying to steady myself. “It’s complicated,” I mumbled, knowing I couldn’t avoid explaining much longer.