Telling Kaiden Badly
938 Words
Amelia slept.
Not the restless kind of sleep she usually fell into after long workdays or chaotic nights. This sleep was heavy, deep, and complete, like her body had quietly decided it could no longer carry fear on top of exhaustion.
She slept through the afternoon and into the early evening, curtains drawn, phone forgotten somewhere between the couch cushions. The city outside continued without her. Traffic moved. People laughed. Somewhere, someone was celebrating something trivial.
When she woke, it was dark.
For a moment, she lay still, eyes open, staring at the ceiling. There was a soft ache in her chest, not sharp enough to hurt, but heavy enough to remind her why she had slept so deeply in the first place.
Her hand drifted to her stomach without conscious thought.
Nothing felt different.
No pain. No movement. No sign of anything extraordinary.
And yet.
“There you are,” she whispered, unsure whether she was speaking to herself or to something else entirely.
She sat up slowly, pushing the covers aside. Panic did not rush back in like she expected. Instead, there was a quiet calm, fragile but real. The kind that comes when fear has already done its worst and left behind something steadier.
She drank a glass of water. Then another.
Her yoga mat lay rolled up in the corner, something she usually ignored when life got busy. Tonight, she unrolled it carefully, smoothing the edges like this was a deliberate choice, not an attempt to keep herself together.
She moved slowly, deliberately, stretching her arms overhead, grounding her feet into the floor. Breathing in through her nose. Out through her mouth.
“I can’t panic,” she told herself softly. “Not now.”
Each pose helped loosen something inside her chest. Each breath slowed her thoughts just enough for her to organize them.
This was happening.
Whether she liked it or not.
She showered afterward, letting warm water run down her back, eyes closed, forehead pressed against the tiles. She imagined responsibility the way she always had: not as fear, but as a task. Something to be handled, not avoided.
When she dressed, she chose comfort over chaos. Ate something small. Sat on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’ve handled worse,” she murmured, even though she wasn’t sure that was true.
Lucas would be furious.
Lucas would be disappointed.
That thought made her stomach twist harder than the pregnancy itself.
But before Lucas, there was Kaiden.
And she refused to let him hear this over the phone.
The next morning, Amelia woke with purpose.
No pacing. No denial. Just resolve.
She dressed neatly, her usual playful style replaced with something calm and sharp. Hair pulled back. Face bare. She looked like someone who had made a decision and intended to follow through.
The drive to Kaiden’s office was quiet. No music. No calls. Just the sound of the road beneath her tires and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
The building was intimidating in its quietness. Tall. Glass-covered. Impossibly clean. Amelia walked in without hesitation, chin lifted, shoulders squared.
The receptionist glanced up briefly, then back down.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Kaiden Blackwood,” Amelia said.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
The woman sighed like Amelia had personally inconvenienced her. “Then I’m afraid—”
“Call him,” Amelia said lightly.
The receptionist frowned. “I can’t do that.”
Amelia leaned forward on the counter, smiling. “You really can.”
“I don’t know who you think you are—”
“I’m Amelia Hart.”
The receptionist looked her up and down slowly, clearly unimpressed. “That doesn’t change anything.”
Something in Amelia snapped.
“Call him,” she repeated, voice calm but edged. “Or I’ll make sure you’re unemployed by the end of the day.”
The receptionist scoffed. “Security—”
“Fire them.”
The voice cut through the lobby like ice.
Amelia turned.
Kaiden Blackwood stood behind her, tall, composed, eyes cold as glass. He hadn’t raised his voice. He didn’t need to.
The color drained from the desk attendants’ faces as Kaiden continued, “Both of you. Pack up. Leave.”
They didn’t argue.
Kaiden turned and walked away.
Amelia followed, heart pounding.
The elevator ride was silent. The air thick. She watched the numbers climb, counting them to stay grounded.
Inside his office, the door closed with a quiet click.
Amelia didn’t sit.
She walked straight to his desk and dropped the box.
It slid across the polished surface and stopped inches from him.
Kaiden frowned, opened it.
Twenty four pregnancy tests stared back at him.
Amelia’s voice broke the silence.
“Who,” she demanded, “has a one night stand without protection?”
Kaiden didn’t move.
“Who does that?” she continued, anger rising now, sharp and trembling. “You’re careful with everything else. Your work. Your reputation. Your life. But this?” She laughed, bitter and short. “This is careless.”
Still nothing.
She clenched her fists. “I’m pregnant, Kaiden. That’s what those mean.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly. “I don’t blame you alone. I was there too. But don’t stand there like this isn’t real.”
She swallowed hard. “I’m scared. I’m responsible. And you deserved to hear it from me, not a message or an accident.”
Finally, Kaiden looked up.
His face had gone completely still.
Frozen.
And Amelia realized that whatever came next would change everything.
- Writer
