Madison
I stared at my phone for the tenth time in an hour. Still nothing from Alexander. It had been three days since I’d sent the text about my pregnancy, and I was getting angrier by the minute.
My phone rang, startling me so badly I nearly dropped it. My heart leapt, then immediately sank when I saw Hazel’s name instead of Alexander’s.
“Hey,” I answered, not bothering to hide the disappointment in my
“Whoa, who died?” Hazel asked. “You sound terrible.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
voice.
“Seriously, Mads. What’s wrong? You’ve been MIA for days. I’ve been texting you.”
I sighed, looking around my empty apartment. Mom was at physical therapy, which meant I could speak freely.
“If I tell you something, you have to swear not to freak out.”
“That’s literally asking me to freak out, but okay. I swear.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”
The silence on the other end lasted so long I checked to make sure the call hadn’t dropped.
“Hazel?”
“Holy shit.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper. “Alexander’s?”
“No,
the Easter Bunny’s.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course it’s Alexander’s.”
‘And he knows? I mean, with the engagement news and everything…”
I slumped back against my pillows. “I texted him three days ago. He read it immediately.”
“And?”
“And nothing, Radio silence,”
“That motherfu-
“Hazel,” I cut her off. “Not helping.”
“I’m coming over. Right now.”
“You don’t have to-”
“I’ll bring ice cream. And wine. Wait, no wine for you. Double ice cream.”
Before I could protest, she’d hung up.
1/4
Forty minutes later, Hazel burst through my door with a grocery bag in each arm.
“I got chocolate, cookie dough, and strawberry. And saltine crackers because my cousin said they helped with her morning sickness. And ginger ale. And pretzels. And-”
“Hazel,” I interrupted, taking one of the bags. “This is enough food for a small army.”
She shrugged, kicking off her shoes. “You’re eating for two now. Which bowl do you want?”
I managed a small smile. “The blue one.”
We settled on my couch, Hazel with a massive bowl of ice cream, and me with a much more reasonable portion. The TV played some reality show in the background, but neither of us was paying attention.
“So what’s the plan?” Hazel asked, licking her spoon.
I pushed ice cream around my bowl. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to keep it?”
The question hung in the air. Did I? I’d barely had time to process the pregnancy, let alone make any decisions.
“I think so,” I said softly. “Is that crazy?”
Hazel set her bowl down and turned to face me. “No. It’s your body, your choice. And you’d be an amazing mom.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. “Even as a single parent?”
“Hey,” she said, grabbing my hand. “You’re not alone. You have me, you have your mom.
“Who doesn’t even know yet.”
11
‘She’ll be supportive. You know she will.” Hazel squeezed my hand. “What about work? Are you going to tell HR?
I laughed without humor. “And say what? ‘Hi, I’m pregnant with the CEO’s baby, but don’t worry, he’s engaged to someone else‘?”
“When you put it that way…” Hazel trailed off. “Wait, what are you going to do when he gets back? You’ll have to see him at work.”
The thought made my stomach turn. “I’m thinking of quitting.”
“What?” Hazel nearly dropped her spoon. “Madison, no. You’ve worked so hard for this position.”
“And what? I should just keep working for the father of my child, who can’t even be bothered to text me back? Watch him plan his wedding to another woman? No thanks.”
Hazel was quiet for a moment, considering. “You know what? You’re right. Fuck Alexander Knight. Fuck Knight Industries. You’re too good for them anyway.”
“I’ve built my entire career there,” I said, surprising myself with the sadness in my voice.
FT
2/4
“And you’ll build an even better one somewhere else.” Hazel took another bite of ice cream. “Or start your own business. You’ve always talked about it.”
I had. Late–night conversations over wine, dreaming about opening my own consulting firm or maybe even a
café.
“It’s not that simple,” I said.
“Why not? You have savings, right? And your mom’s health is better now.”
I nodded. Mom had made incredible progress since her treatments at Hallmark Hospital.
“I could move to Connecticut,” I mused. “Mom always said she missed the quiet.”
Hazel’s eyes widened. “You’d leave New York?”
The idea, which had started as a fleeting thought, suddenly felt right. A fresh start. Away from Alexander, away from the memories, away from watching him build a life with Katherine.
“Maybe,” I said. “It’s worth considering.”
“I’d miss you like crazy,” Hazel said, her voice small.
“I’d miss you too. But it’s not like Connecticut is on the other side of the world. You could visit.”
Hazel nodded, then straightened her shoulders. “Whatever you decide, I’m with you. And seriously, forget that asshole. If he can’t even respond to news like that, he doesn’t deserve to be in your life or the baby’s.”
“He did read the message,” I said, feeling the familiar surge of anger. “He just didn’t care enough to respond.”
“His loss.” Hazel reached for the remote. “Now, can we please watch something mindless? I need to cleanse my brain of Alexander Knight’s assholery.”
I laughed, a real laugh this time. “Yes, please.”
We spent the rest of the evening watching bad reality TV and eating ice cream, Hazel’s steady presence beside me reminding me that, regardless of Alexander’s absence, I wasn’t alone.
The next morning, I woke up with a strange sense of calm. I’d made my decision. If Alexander couldn’t be bothered to respond by the end of the day, I was done. Done with Knight Industries, done with New York, done with waiting for a man who clearly didn’t care.
I dressed for work with particular care, selecting a navy sheath dress that made me feel powerful. If this was going to be one of my last days at Knight Industries, I wanted to look my best.
The office buzzed with the usual morning energy, but everything felt different. Like I was seeing it all through new eyes, knowing I might be leaving it behind.
I spent the morning at my desk, finalizing reports and organizing files. If I were going to quit, I wanted to leave everything in perfect order.
Around noon, my phone buzzed with a text from Hazel.
3/4
“Any word from the asshole?”
“Nothing,” I replied. “Decision made.”
“I’ll bring champagne tonight. Well, sparkling cider for you.”
I smiled at my phone, grateful for her unwavering support.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
