Chapter five
1389 Words
When Strength Isn’t Enough
By the end of the week, exhaustion was no longer something Evangeline could push through—it was something that followed her, settled into her bones, and refused to let go no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
Sleep didn’t fix it.
Rest didn’t touch it.
And pretending it wasn’t there only made everything worse.
That morning started like all the others, with a quiet determination she forced into place the moment she opened her eyes, as if sheer willpower alone could carry her through the day.
She moved slower than usual, her body heavy and uncooperative, each step requiring more effort than it should have, but she refused to stop.
She couldn’t afford to.
Not now.
By the time she reached the office, the familiar environment did little to ground her, the hum of computers and low murmur of conversations blending into a distant noise that felt strangely disconnected from her.
She sat at her desk, her posture straight, her expression composed, and for a while, she managed.
Emails.
Reports.
Small tasks that required just enough focus to keep her steady.
But it didn’t last.
The dizziness came without warning.
At first, it was subtle—a slight shift in her balance, a faint blur at the edges of her vision that she tried to blink away as she focused harder on the screen in front of her.
But within seconds, it intensified.
The words on the screen began to move, the letters blending together in a way that made it impossible to read, and a wave of nausea followed close behind, stronger than anything she had felt before.
Evangeline’s hand tightened around the edge of her desk, her breath catching as she tried to steady herself, her mind scrambling to regain control over a body that suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Not here.
The thought came sharply, cutting through the haze.
Not now.
She pushed herself to stand, intending to make it to the restroom before anyone noticed, before this became something she couldn’t hide.
But the moment she rose, the room tilted.
Her vision darkened at the edges, the floor seeming farther away than it should have been, and for a terrifying second, she wasn’t sure if she would stay standing.
A soft gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it, her hand reaching out blindly for support—
And missing.
“Hey—”
The voice came just as her knees began to give way, strong hands catching her before she could hit the ground, steadying her with a firm grip that kept her upright even as everything around her continued to spin.
“Easy,” the voice said, closer now, more focused.
“I’ve got you.”
Evangeline blinked, her vision slowly clearing as she tried to make sense of what had just happened, her breath uneven as she steadied herself against the person holding her.
“I’m… fine,” she managed, though the words came out weaker than she intended, lacking the confidence she usually carried.
“Yeah,” he replied quietly, not sounding convinced. “You don’t look fine.”
She became aware then of the attention around them, the way conversations had stopped, the subtle shift in the room as people glanced in their direction, curiosity and concern mixing in a way that made her chest tighten.
“I just need a minute,” she said quickly, pulling back slightly as if distance alone could restore her composure, though her legs still felt unsteady beneath her.
The man didn’t let go completely, his grip loosening but not disappearing, as if he wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t fall again.
“Sit,” he said simply, guiding her back into her chair with a calm authority that left little room for argument.
This time, she didn’t resist.
The cool surface of the desk against her arms grounded her slightly, her breathing beginning to even out as the worst of the dizziness faded, leaving behind a lingering weakness that made everything feel heavier.
“I’m okay,” she repeated, more softly now, though she wasn’t entirely sure who she was trying to convince.
Him.
Herself.
Maybe both.
He crouched slightly beside her desk, lowering himself just enough to meet her eye level without making the moment feel overwhelming, his expression steady but observant.
“You almost collapsed,” he said, his tone calm but direct, as if stating a fact she couldn’t argue with.
Evangeline exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping briefly before she looked back at him, her composure slipping just enough to reveal the truth she had been trying to hide.
“I know.”
There was no point denying it.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The office noise slowly returned, conversations picking up again as the moment passed, though the occasional glance still lingered.
“What’s going on?” he asked after a second, his voice quieter now, less intrusive but no less serious.
The question felt heavier than it should have.
Because it wasn’t just about what had happened a few moments ago.
It was about everything.
The exhaustion.
The pressure.
The secret she carried alone.
Evangeline hesitated, her fingers curling slightly against the desk as she considered her answer, the familiar instinct to deflect rising quickly.
“I haven’t been feeling well,” she said carefully, choosing her words in a way that revealed just enough without giving everything away.
It wasn’t a lie.
But it wasn’t the whole truth either.
He studied her for a moment, his gaze sharp but not unkind, as if weighing whether to push further or let it go.
“Have you seen a doctor?” he asked.
“I have,” she replied quietly.
“And?”
Evangeline paused.
This was the moment.
The line between keeping everything to herself and letting someone in, even just a little.
Her chest tightened slightly.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words left her before she could overthink them, soft but clear, carrying a weight that settled between them almost immediately.
He didn’t react right away.
Didn’t interrupt.
Didn’t ask unnecessary questions.
He simply nodded once, as if processing the information without judgment.
“Okay,” he said after a moment, his tone steady in a way that surprised her. “That explains a lot.”
Evangeline let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, some of the tension in her shoulders easing slightly at his response.
No shock.
No criticism.
No assumptions.
Just… understanding.
“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself this hard,” he added, glancing briefly at her desk before looking back at her. “Especially not if you’re already struggling.”
A small, almost humorless smile touched her lips.
“I don’t really have a choice.”
He held her gaze for a second longer, as if searching for something deeper in her words, before responding quietly,
“You always have choices. They’re just not always easy ones.”
Evangeline didn’t respond to that.
Because he wasn’t wrong.
But knowing that didn’t make anything easier.
He straightened then, stepping back slightly but not completely leaving, his presence still steady, still grounding in a way she hadn’t expected.
“If you feel like that again,” he said, his tone shifting back to something more practical, “don’t try to walk it off. Sit down. Or call someone.”
She nodded faintly.
“I will.”
Even if she wasn’t sure she would.
As he turned to leave, he paused briefly, glancing back at her with a look that was more thoughtful than before.
“I’m Daniel, by the way,” he added.
Evangeline blinked slightly, caught off guard by the simple introduction.
“Evangeline,” she replied softly.
“I know,” he said, a faint hint of something almost like a smile crossing his face before he walked away.
She watched him go for a moment, her thoughts quieter than they had been all morning.
Because for the first time since everything began—
She didn’t feel entirely alone.
Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach again, her expression softening slightly as she leaned back in her chair, allowing herself a moment to breathe.
“I’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
And this time—
It felt a little more real.
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