chapter5
1033 Words
The sun had just begun its descent behind the towering skyline of New York when Zara stepped into her apartment. The familiar scent of lavender and lemon greeted her—a comforting blend she'd deliberately chosen when morning sickness and exhaustion had taken their toll during the early months of pregnancy.
She slipped off her coat and placed a protective hand over her belly as she made her way to the kitchen. There was a dull ache behind her eyes from everything that had transpired today. Seeing Damian again had unearthed emotions she’d buried so deep, she’d convinced herself they were gone.
But they weren’t.
She could still feel the way he looked at her—like she was a puzzle he’d never stopped wanting to solve. The way his voice softened when he spoke of being there, of trying. Of staying.
Zara ran her fingers along the edge of the marble countertop, exhaling slowly. She should’ve felt relief. Instead, she felt like she was standing on a ledge, with hope on one side and fear on the other.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
Damian: Are you home safe?
She stared at the message longer than necessary before typing back.
Zara: Yes. Thanks for today.
Damian: Thank you. For trusting me.
A beat.
Then another message.
Damian: Would it be okay if we talked again soon? I’d like to understand more about how things have been for you. And… maybe be there in a way I wasn’t before.
Zara felt the smallest tug at the corner of her lips. She replied:
Zara: One conversation at a time, Mr. Wolfe.
She placed her phone down before she could overthink it and turned to prepare something light for dinner. As she sliced vegetables, her mind wandered—unwillingly—to that night six months ago.
The gala had been crowded, the city glittering in celebration of some charitable cause she couldn’t even remember now. She’d been there on assignment, working a shift as a last-minute event server to help make rent. Damian had been dressed in black-tie perfection, standing out like royalty in a room full of people pretending to be important.
She remembered how he’d looked at her then. Not with arrogance, but with a sharp curiosity—as if he could see something others missed. They’d talked in quiet corners and ended up in the penthouse suite of the hotel by midnight. He’d never given his name. And she’d never asked—too swept away by the pull of him, by how he made her forget the heaviness of real life for just one night.
She’d awoken to an empty bed, a handwritten note on the pillow:
“Thank you. You saved me more than you’ll ever know.”
It wasn’t until a month later, when the test turned positive, that her world had started to come undone.
And now, here he was again—offering stability, offering presence, and maybe offering something more.
Zara rubbed a hand over her bump, her thoughts interrupted by a soft knock at the door.
She paused.
It was nearly 7 PM. She wasn’t expecting anyone.
Her instincts sharpened as she approached the door. When she opened it, she was greeted by a familiar face—and not one she’d wanted to see.
“Zara,” said Helen Moore, her former boss at the boutique she used to manage. “I’ve been calling you. We need to talk.”
Zara blinked in surprise. “Helen? It’s been months. What’s this about?”
Helen looked flustered, her sharp bob frizzed slightly from the evening air. “Can I come in?”
Reluctantly, Zara stepped aside, though every fiber in her body screamed no.
Helen walked in like she still owned the place, her eyes scanning the apartment before turning back to Zara.
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important,” she said, smoothing the front of her beige blazer. “I need you back at the store.”
Zara frowned. “You fired me.”
Helen huffed. “You left without explanation. I assumed you were quitting.”
“I was hospitalized with severe morning sickness. I emailed you.”
“You didn’t say you were pregnant. I found out from Jessica two months later.”
Zara folded her arms. “And now you want me back? Why?”
Helen sighed, the air of superiority wavering. “Because the boutique is falling apart. Sales have plummeted since you left. You were the one organizing the client accounts, dressing VIPs, and managing inventory. No one else has come close.”
Zara was stunned into silence. Of all the things she’d expected today, this wasn’t one of them.
“I can’t,” she said after a beat. “I’m due in a few months. And honestly? I don’t think I want to go back.”
Helen looked as though she’d swallowed something sour. “You’re making a mistake. Opportunities like this don’t come back around. Especially not for single mothers.”
The words sliced.
Zara lifted her chin. “Actually, I’m not doing this alone anymore.”
Helen arched a brow. “You’re with someone now?”
Zara thought of Damian. His promise to stay. His text message. His hand reaching across the café table like a tether pulling her back to something she wasn’t sure she deserved.
“Yes,” she said with quiet strength. “I am.”
Helen stood, clearly displeased. “Fine. Just don’t come crawling back when the glamour wears off.”
Zara didn’t respond. She waited until the door shut behind her old boss before sinking onto the couch. The tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying finally began to melt away.
The baby kicked.
Zara placed her hand on her belly, smiling softly. “Looks like you’re on my side.”
She reached for her phone again.
Zara: Would you want to come to my next prenatal appointment? It’s next Thursday at 10 AM.
Damian: Yes. I’ll be there.
No hesitation.
Zara stared at the message for a moment longer, her eyes stinging.
Maybe… just maybe, this wasn’t the beginning of the end—but the start of something new.
- Writer
