Chapter 15
1445 Words
I spent the entire morning rehearsing the words inside my mind, crafting what I hoped would be the perfect delivery.
The words mattered. Every syllable was significant. I focused on the tone, trying to strike the right balance between calm and earnest, brave even if my voice trembled slightly under pressure. I envisioned Rafael’s expression, the way he would pause to absorb the weight of my confession, and the warmth in his eyes when the truth finally settled in.
Deep down, I yearned to believe I still had some semblance of control over how the truth would be received—how it would land softly instead of crashing down like a weight.
But life, in its unyielding nature, had shown me that it rarely allows for that kind of luxury when it comes to vulnerability.
It only offers you the chance of timing.
And sometimes—not even that.
—
Just as I was lost in my thoughts, Kyla cleared her throat from the doorway of my office, a subtle yet jarring interruption. “You have a visitor,” she announced, her tone professional but laced with an unspoken caution.
I kept my gaze fixed on the paperwork scattered across my desk, unwilling to engage. “Tell them to set a meeting,” I replied curtly, dismissing the inconvenience.
She hesitated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“It’s Ysabelle,” she finally admitted, her voice almost a whisper.
At the mention of that name, my heart dropped like a stone.
Before I could voice any protest, Kyla stepped inside, uninvited and unyielding as always. She was immaculate as ever—her hair perfectly styled, and a polished smile that felt more like a facade than genuine warmth.
“Relax,” Ysabelle said smoothly, her voice dripping with false reassurance. “I’m not here to fight.”
I narrowed my eyes, bitterness spilling over. “Then why are you here?” I snapped, unable to mask the irritation in my tone.
“To deliver a message,” she answered, her expression shifting to one of feigned sincerity. “Or more like… a favor.”
I stood up slowly, straightening my spine as if guided by instinct. “I don’t need anything from you,” I stated firmly, injecting resolve into my words.
She tilted her head with a condescending grace, the corner of her mouth twitching in what could only be described as amusement. “I think you do,” she replied confidently.
I hated how serene she appeared, how her demeanor radiated a calculated calm that felt utterly disconcerting.
Just then, my phone buzzed persistently on the desk—three messages flashed on the screen, each demanding my attention.
One was from Blaire, another from a board liaison, and the last from Rafael.
I knew I had to open Blaire’s message first.
Z… is it true?
My heart raced as I quickly swiped to read the next message from the board contact.
Is this pregnancy announcement official or a media stunt? Need clarification ASAP.
An adrenaline rush surged through me, a cocktail of anxiety and adrenaline thumping in my veins. I hesitated for a moment before finally unlocking Rafael’s message.
Zyra, why didn’t you tell me yourself?
—
The world around me spiraled for a fleeting second, a disorienting rush gripping me.
I turned back to Ysabelle, her gaze locking onto mine like a predator waiting for its prey to falter. “You leaked it,” I accused, my voice low and seething with accusation.
“Of course not,” she replied, feigning innocence with a nonchalant shrug. But it’s incredible what people find when they dig a little deeper. A whisper here, a calendar note there. People talk, Zyra. And someone always listens.”
My jaw tightened in response, frustration coursing through me.
“You think this is going to break me?” I challenged, my voice trembling slightly with suppressed emotion.
She shrugged again, her smile widening with an almost cruel delight. “I think it’s going to expose everything you’ve been hiding. And it will reveal what else you might be willing to lie about.”
Her face bore that insufferable smile, almost triumphant.
“Good luck, soon-to-be-mama,” she said, her voice lilting with mockery.
In an instant, she strode toward the door, her presence evaporating as quickly as it had materialized.
But I refused to let myself crumble in her wake.
If the world was going to find out, then I would ensure they heard it directly from me, on my terms.
No more running, no more hiding.
Just fire.
The words. The tone. The timing.
I imagined how I’d say it—calm but honest. Brave, even if my voice cracked. I pictured Rafael’s face, the pause before he spoke, the warmth in his eyes once it sank in.
I wanted to believe I still had control over how the truth would land.
But life, I’ve learned, doesn’t always give you the luxury of choosing how you’re exposed.
Only when.
And sometimes—not even that.
—
Kyla cleared her throat from the doorway of my office. “You have a visitor.”
I didn’t look up. “Tell them to set a meeting.”
She hesitated.
“It’s Ysabelle.”
I froze.
Before I could protest, she stepped in, uninvited as ever. Perfect hair. Polished lie of a smile.
“Relax,” she said smoothly. “I’m not here to fight.”
“Then why are you here?” I snapped.
“To deliver a message,” she said. “Or more like… a favor.”
I stood slowly, spine straightening like instinct. “I don’t need anything from you.”
She tilted her head. “I think you do.”
I hated how calm she looked. How rehearsed.
My phone buzzed on the desk—three messages, all at once.
From Blaire.
From a board liaison.
And from Rafael.
I opened Blaire’s first.
Z… is it true?
Then the board contact.
Is this pregnancy announcement official or a media stunt? Need clarification ASAP.
My pulse spiked. I unlocked Rafael’s message last.
Zyra, why didn’t you tell me yourself?
—
The room spun for half a second.
I turned toward Ysabelle, who was watching me like a cat who had already won.
“You leaked it,” I said, voice low.
“Of course not,” she replied innocently. But it’s amazing what people find when they dig a little. A whisper here, a calendar note there. People talk, Zyra. And someone always listens.”
My jaw clenched.
“You think this is going to break me?”
She shrugged. “I think it’s going to show everyone exactly what you’ve been hiding." And what else might you be willing to lie about?”
She smiled.
“Good luck, soon-to-be-mama.”
And just like that, she walked out.
But I didn’t crumble.
Because if the world was going to know—then I’d damn well make sure they heard it from me next.
On my terms.
No more running.
Just fire.
The whispers were louder than the silence.
But I didn’t flinch. I went straight to Rafael’s office, where he stood by the window, jaw set, arms crossed.
He didn’t look at me when I entered.
“You should’ve told me,” he said.
“I was going to,” I whispered. “I just didn’t know how.”
He turned to face me. “There was never going to be a perfect time. Only an honest one.”
I stepped closer. “I was scared.”
“Of me?”
“Of what this would change. Of losing control. Of becoming someone I couldn’t recognize.”
His voice softened, but the pain stayed. “You don’t get to protect me from something we created together.”
“I wasn’t protecting you,” I said. “I was trying to protect myself.”
That hung in the air—raw, real.
He let out a slow breath. “If you can’t trust me with this, what are we even doing?”
I looked up. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t answer at first. Just studied me. Then, quietly: “You’re pregnant. That matters. I want to be here—for all of it. Not just the strong parts.”
I blinked fast, swallowing the emotion.
“I didn’t know how to let you in.”
He stepped closer. “Start now.”
So I reached for his hand, shaky, hesitant.
And he took it without question.
Because some truths don’t need to be spoken twice.
And some love stays, even after the silence breaks.
- Writer
