After the Fireworks

3.

Chapter 3: The Choice

The door swings open, and I’m momentarily caught off guard when I see Helen standing there, a gentle smile on her face. She’s holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a small bag in the other, her usual bright energy filling the space between us. It’s a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere that’s settled in my apartment.

“Hey, Winner,” she says, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “I thought you might need some company.”

I smile faintly, feeling a knot in my chest loosen just a little. “You always know when I need you,” I reply, stepping aside so she can come in.

She hands me the coffee. “I know you don’t drink it much anymore, but I figured today might be an exception.”

I take the cup from her, the warmth of it offering some comfort, though I still feel like I’m frozen in place. The weight of my emotions hasn’t lifted, and nothing feels like it’s moving forward.

“Thanks,” I say quietly, taking a sip. The bitterness of the coffee fills my mouth, but I welcome it. It’s a familiar taste, and it’s grounding in a way I didn’t expect.

Helen sits down across from me on the couch, her eyes searching my face. She’s always been able to read me like an open book, and right now, I know she’s trying to figure out what’s really going on in my head.

“You’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” she asks gently.

I nod, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me. “I don’t know what to do, Helen. I feel like everything has changed. I didn’t expect him to act like that, and now I can’t stop thinking about whether or not I can ever trust him again.”

Helen leans forward, her eyes softening with understanding. “I get it. You thought he was the one, and now it’s all crumbled. But listen, Winner, you don’t owe him anything. Especially not when he’s the one who hurt you.”

“I know,” I whisper. “But it’s hard to just walk away. There’s so much history, so many good moments. And now… there’s the baby too.” I press a hand to my stomach, where the tiny life inside me is growing, unknown and full of promise. “How do I just forget about all of that?”

Helen’s expression softens even more, and she reaches out, putting a hand on mine. “You don’t forget about it. You just… you just decide what’s more important. Your happiness. Your peace. And whether he can be a part of that. Sometimes, we stay because we’re afraid of what we’ll lose, but we forget to think about what we’re holding on to.”

I take a deep breath, absorbing her words. I know she’s right. But it doesn’t make the decision any easier.

“I can’t just pretend like nothing happened,” I say, more to myself than to her. “I don’t think I can forgive him for this.”

“I don’t think you have to forgive him right now,” Helen replies. “But you can’t keep torturing yourself either. You need to give yourself the chance to breathe. You’ve been under so much pressure lately, trying to be the perfect partner, perfect daughter, perfect everything. You don’t have to do it all on your own. You deserve to take a step back and figure out what you really want.”

Her words resonate with me, but even as I nod, I can feel the heaviness in my heart. The idea of moving on, of being alone in this, is terrifying. But at the same time, the idea of staying with someone who’s willing to disregard me for a moment of excitement feels just as terrifying.

A few hours later, I find myself standing in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My fingers trace the outline of my neck, the soft curves of my face, the slight flush of color in my cheeks. But it’s not me I’m looking at. It’s the version of me that I’m still trying to figure out—who I am now, who I was, and who I want to be.

I hear a knock at the door. My heart leaps into my throat, but I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to admit that I’m hoping it’s John.

I open the door slowly, bracing myself. But it’s not John standing there. It’s Michael.

I blink, surprised. I wasn’t expecting him. But then again, I don’t think I’ve ever really known what to expect lately.

“Hey,” he says with that easy smile of his. “Can we talk?”

I hesitate for a moment before stepping aside to let him in. “What’s going on, Michael?”

He steps into the living room, his eyes scanning the space before landing on me again. “I heard about what happened,” he says, his voice quiet. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I nod, forcing a smile even though I’m far from okay. “I’m managing,” I say, my voice a little more shaky than I intended.

Michael takes a seat on the couch, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re not alone, Winner. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

I sit down across from him, feeling a weight in the air between us. There’s something different about the way he’s looking at me today—more serious, more concerned. It’s not the playful, easy-going Michael I’m used to.

“I know you’re just trying to help,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “But I don’t know what I need right now. I’m confused, Michael. Everything’s falling apart.”

“You don’t have to have all the answers today,” Michael says gently, leaning forward a little. “But whatever happens, just know that you’re stronger than you think.”

I glance up at him, his words striking me in ways I don’t expect. He’s always been there for me, always in the background, never pushing, always supportive. But now, there’s something else in his eyes, something I can’t quite name.

“I don’t even know if I can trust anyone right now,” I admit, my voice breaking slightly. “John, he—he let me down. And now I don’t know if I can forgive him. But I also don’t know if I can just… let go of everything we had.”

Michael looks at me, his expression soft. “You’re allowed to be confused, Winner. You’re allowed to feel hurt and betrayed. But you don’t have to carry all of this on your own.”

I feel a lump form in my throat. His words feel like a balm on my wounds, but they also remind me of everything I’m trying to avoid. The way John made me feel small, the way he flirted with another woman in front of me, when I was only trying to share the most important news of my life. The pain still feels fresh.

Michael’s voice brings me back to the moment. “I’m not saying you need to make any decisions today. But I think you need to decide what’s best for you, Winner. And if that means walking away from him, then you should. Don’t let anyone pressure you into staying if you’re not ready.”

My heart races as I sit with his words. I know he’s right. I know I’ve been trying to please everyone else, trying to make things work, to hold on to something that doesn’t want to stay together. But deep down, I’m scared. Scared of being alone, scared of making the wrong choice.

“I don’t want to be alone,” I confess, the words escaping before I can stop them. “I’m scared of raising this baby on my own, of facing everything without him.”

Michael stands up slowly and walks over to where I’m sitting. He looks at me for a long moment, his gaze softening, as if weighing his next words carefully.

“You’re not alone, Winner,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “You’ll never be alone. Not as long as I’m here.”

The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I think I see something more in his eyes—something that makes my heart beat a little faster. But I quickly look away, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“You’ve always been there for me,” I say softly, “but I don’t know if I’m ready for anything more.”