Chapter 32

The buzzer goes off again. One long, impatient bzzzz that practically screams I know you’re in there, bitch.I blink at the ceiling, still clutching the now-warm beer bottle to my chest like a security blanket. My fingers are trembling, not from fear, but from sheer emotional exhaustion. It’s probably the ghost of my dignity finally coming back to haunt me.No one knows I’m back.I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t post. I didn’t text. I turned off location sharing like I was planning a heist.The buzzer goes again.“Charlotte Montgomery!” a voice screeches through the intercom.Yep. Definitely Callie.“If you don’t buzz me up right now, I swear to GOD I will set this building on fire and dance in the ashes.”I drag myself off the couch, nearly tripping over the blanket tangled around my ankles. My feet feel like concrete, but somehow I make it to the door and hit the buzzer.“Come up,” I croak, then stagger back to the couch like some kind of post-breakup zombie.The elevator dings less t

Chapter 33

Chapter 33 – The Muffin IncidentIf someone were to look at my life right now, like actually look, not the curated snapshots I post on I*******m, but the real behind-the-scenes footage, they'd probably assume I’m starring in a really underfunded documentary titled,Burnout: The Glamorous Decline of Charlotte Montgomery.It’s been two months since London. Two whole months since I ghosted the city, the hotel, the man, and quite literally everyone else. And yet, here I am, still living in the emotional aftershocks like they’re rent-free guests in my very overpriced penthouse.“I’m saying this with love,” Callie begins, already offensive, “but you look like someone who haunts train stations.”I blink at her from the kitchen counter, clutching a crusty slice of cold pizza like it’s the only thing tethering me to Earth. “So I’m going for ethereal. Iconic.”“Your hair’s greasy.”“I’m saving water. For the planet.”She chucks a cushion at me, full force. “You’re not eating, Char. You’re not sl

Chapter 34

The bathroom tile is cold under my knees, and the fluorescent light is doing absolutely nothing for my self-esteem.I'm hunched over the sink like a girl in a tragic indie film, except this isn't poetic or edgy, it’s just gross. My hands are gripping the porcelain, knuckles white, and I’m pretty sure I’m still shaking.Callie and Emily are hovering behind me like I’m going to start convulsing or sprout wings or something.“Maybe the muffins were expired?” I croak, trying for a laugh. It comes out more like a wheeze.Emily’s arms are crossed in front of her chest, eyes narrowed like she’s solving a crime scene. “Char, this isn’t food poisoning.”Callie nods slowly, like she’s piecing together a conspiracy theory. “It’s the nausea. The weight loss. The mood swings. The... glow, except like, the opposite of glow.”I spin around, eyes wide. “You think I’m pregnant?”“I think you could be,” Emily says gently, because of course she’s the gentle one. “We just need to be sure.”And then I la

Chapter 35

The room goes so still I swear I can hear the hum of the fridge from the kitchen. My nod hangs there, suspended in the air like some awful truth balloon no one wants to pop.My cheeks are still wet, my throat raw, and my whole body feels like I’ve been holding my breath for an hour.Callie, bless her entirely misguided soul, clears her throat. “Well… that explains the glowing skin.”I stare at her. Emily stares at her. Somewhere, the fridge hum gets louder.Callie winces. “Okay, not the right moment. Got it.”“Charlotte,” Emily says, crouching down so she’s eye-level. Her voice is calm, too calm, the way you’d talk to someone who’s about to run into traffic. She puts her hand on my knee, warm and steady. “Breathe.”“I am breathing,” I snap, except it comes out in this shaky, pathetic voice that makes me want to kick myself.Callie’s pacing behind her, wearing a groove into my bathmat. “This is insane. This is, holy shit, this is actually happening.” She throws her hands up, then immed

Chapter 36

The apartment feels strangely quiet as I get dressed, the sound of hangers scraping against each other loud enough to make me jump. I change outfits three times before settling on a cream blouse and black trousers because I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, but I also don’t want to look like I spent the morning crying over fetal fruit size comparisons on Google.I absolutely did spend the morning crying over fetal fruit size comparisons on Google.Apparently, Peanut is the size of a blueberry.I don’t even like blueberries.By the time I leave my apartment, my stomach is in knots.The entire cab ride to Axton’s office is spent arguing with myself.This is ridiculous.You have to tell him.You could call him.I am not telling a man he’s going to be a father over the phone.Why not?Because that’s psychotic, and I’m still blocked.Showing up at his office is also psychotic.Fair point.The city blurs past the window while I spiral. People are walking dogs. Someone is carrying

Chapter 37

For a second, I genuinely think I’ve fallen asleep again.Maybe I’m still dreaming. Maybe I finally snapped after throwing a pregnancy bomb into the middle of a billionaire’s relationship and my brain has decided to protect itself by creating an extremely attractive hallucination.Because Theo is standing outside my apartment door.Theo.Actual Theo.Not a text message from three thousand miles away. Not a photo on social media. Not a memory from London.Theo.Standing in my hallway wearing a dark jacket and that crooked smile that should honestly be regulated by several governments.I stare at the security monitor so long that he glances up at the camera and raises an eyebrow.Then he waves.My stomach immediately does a weird little flip.Oh my God.He’s real.He’s actually here.The doorbell rings again.“Charlotte,” I mutter to myself, fumbling with the lock. “Open the bloody door before he thinks you’ve died.”The second I pull the door open, Theo’s smile widens.For a moment nei