LOGINIt was Tuesday afternoon, and outside the windows of Suite 402, a thick, persistent London fog had completely swallowed the city skyline.Inside, the room was a haven of soft lamplight, tossed blankets, and warm air.Mindy lay sprawled across the plush king-sized bed, wearing one of Marcus’s oversized grey t-shirts that hung off her shoulder. Her sketchbook was open in her lap, but she hadn't drawn a single line in twenty minutes. Instead, her fingers were absently playing with the soft cotton of Marcus’s sleeve.Marcus was stretched out beside her, his long frame angled so his head rested comfortably on her thigh. He had one arm thrown over his eyes, looking more relaxed than he had in months.On the nightstand, Marcus’s work phone buzzed.It wasn't a gentle notification. It was the sharp, demanding triple-vibration of an urgent email. Marcus didn't move a muscle. He just let out a low, dramatic groan into the mattress.Mindy giggled, leaning down to poke his shoulder. "Isn't that yo
The morning sun broke through the lingering London mist, casting a soft, golden light across the cobblestone streets of Mayfair. Inside Suite 402, the heavy velvet drapes were pulled back, filling the room with daylight. Mindy stood in front of the full-length mirror, adjusting the belt of her oversized camel coat over a cozy cream turtleneck. She was putting the finishing touches on her makeup when a pair of arms wrapped smoothly around her waist from behind. Marcus rested his chin on her shoulder, looking at her reflection in the mirror with a lazy, content grin. He was dressed down in a dark fitted sweater and black jeans looking entirely relaxed. "You look ridiculously good for someone who had an eight-hour flight yesterday," Marcus murmured, kissing her cheek. Mindy smirked in the mirror, leaning her head back against his shoulder. "It’s called good skincare and the excitement of taking your credit card for a spin today, Barnes." Marcus chuckled, a warm, resonant sound that m
The air in Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport smelled like stale coffee, jet fuel, and late-night panic.It was 4:00 PM on Thursday. Mindy rolled her sleek, matte-black carry-on suitbag through Terminal 5, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. Over her shoulder hung her structured leather tote bag, inside of which rested her passport, a fresh tube of red lipstick, and the printed boarding pass for British Airways Flight 294.I pulled out my phone and checked my texts one last time before stepping into the gate queue.She stepped to the side of the gate queue and pulled out her phone to check her messages one last time before switching to airplane mode.Andrea: Go get your man, girl. I’m rooting for you. Safe flight! ❤️Mindy smiled, a soft, genuine warmth settling in her chest. No jokes, no playful insults—just her best friend cheering her on. She typed back a quick reply.Mindy: Thanks, Drea. Take care of yourself while I'm gone. See you in a week!Boarding
Mindy stood at her cutting table, smoothing her hand over a printed sheet of paper before folding it neatly into two.Confirmation Number: BA-8924. Chicago O’Hare to London Heathrow. Departure: Next Thursday, 4:45 PM.She slid the paper into the hidden interior pocket of her leather handbag, a bright, secret smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She had booked the ticket two weeks ago, quietly clearing her studio calendar and handing off her fittings to her lead assistant for a full eight days. Marcus had been away in the UK for over seven months now handling Crestview’s expansion, and while his decision to cut off his stay and arrive in the six months time made the wait a little shorter, she missed him so much that she wasn't about to go another week without seeing her boyfriend.It was going to be a complete surprise. She had already coordinated with his assistant in London to get his hotel keycard delivered to her upon landing.Mindy looked at the clock on her studio wall: 9:1
Henry shifted beside her, turning his body toward her. "Andrea…""Let her voice it, Henry," Dr. Chen said gently, holding up a hand. He turned back to Andrea, resting his elbows on the arms of his chair. "Andrea, if a woman came into this office with Type 1 diabetes because her pancreas stopped producing insulin, would you tell her she was weak for taking insulin shots?""No," Andrea said immediately. "That's a medical condition. It's biological.""And what do you think is happening in your body right now?" Dr. Chen asked, leaning forward. "During pregnancy, your body produces massive amounts of estrogen and progesterone. Within forty-eight hours of delivering Sophie, those hormone levels crashed to virtually zero. At the same time, your brain was flooded with prolactin and oxytocin to drive maternal bonding and vigilance. Add chronic sleep deprivation on top of that, and your amygdala—the part of your brain responsible for processing fear and threat detection—got locked into high gea
Andrea sat on a leather barstool with her phone resting between her palms, her eyes fixed on the small white business card Dr. Foster had handed her two days ago.Dr. James Chen, MD – Adult & Perinatal Psychiatry.Nearby, the quiet hum of the espresso machine filled the silence. Henry stood at the counter, watching the dark liquid drip into a ceramic mug. He didn't offer unsolicited advice or anything. He simply stayed in the space, his presence grounding the room."Are you okay?" Henry asked softly, setting his coffee mug on the counter and turning toward her. “Do you want me to step out?”Andrea shook her head, her dark hair slipping over her shoulder. "No. Stay."She took a slow, deliberate breath, tapped the phone screen to wake it, and dialed the eleven digits. She held the receiver to her ear, listening to the hollow ring on the line."Dr. Chen’s office, this is Sarah speaking. How can I help you?" a polite, efficient voice answered.Andrea’s throat tightened for a second. "Hi,"
Andrea woke with a sharp inhale, her body jolting upright before her mind fully caught up. For a brief second, everything felt still, almost peaceful… until reality crashed back in. Her phone lit up beside her. 7:37 AM. “Shit.” The word slipped out under her breath as her heart kicked hard a
Andrea’s hands trembled as she reached Caleb’s apartment door, her mind still trying to come up with excuses for why he hadn't texted or called her yet on her birthday. Maybe his phone died. Maybe something happened. Maybe there was a reason he had left her sitting alone at Giovanni’s on her birt
Andrea had been staring at the same training slide for almost ten minutes. Something about workplace compliance policies or data structure or maybe cybersecurity. At this point, she honestly had no idea anymore because every time she tried to focus, her mind drifted straight back to the man from t
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime and Andrea stepped out onto the fiftieth floor, clutching the orientation papers against her chest. The atmosphere upstairs felt completely different from the rest of the company. The lower floors had been busy and noisy, filled with ringing phones and ca







