Chapter 006

Hailey’s POV

The moment the plane lifted off the runway, my fingers curled tightly into the armrest.

I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. If I did, I was certain something inside me would crack completely and I would beg the pilot to turn around, even though there was nothing waiting for me back there except betrayal and humiliation.

My chest felt tight, as though my heart had been wrapped in invisible chains that refused to loosen. California was shrinking beneath us, the city lights blurring into nothing more than distant stars, and with every second that passed, the reality finally settled in.

I was leaving my marriage behind.

Leaving my husband behind.

Leaving the life I had endured for three years behind.

I swallowed hard and pressed my palm gently against my stomach. My baby was still there. Alive. Breathing. Holding on despite everything that had been done to us. Tears pooled in my eyes before I could stop them.

“You’re safe,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I promise you… you’re safe now.”

Grant sat beside me, quiet as always. He didn’t crowd me with words or pity. He simply stayed, his presence steady and grounding. Every now and then, I felt his eyes flick toward me, checking if I was alright, but he never asked. Somehow, that made it easier to breathe.

When the flight attendant approached, smiling politely and asking if I wanted anything, I opened my mouth to speak, but Grant answered before I could.

“Warm water and crackers, please.”

I turned to look at him, surprised. He didn’t explain himself. He didn’t need to. He had remembered my nausea, remembered how easily my stomach turned these days. That simple consideration made my throat tighten painfully.

I faced the window again, blinking back tears. I was tired of crying. Crying had been my constant companion for too long.

New York appeared beneath us hours later, vast and glowing, alive in a way California had never felt to me. This city didn’t know me. It didn’t know my failures, my broken marriage, or how easily I had been discarded. That thought brought a strange sense of comfort.

Maybe here, I could start over.

Grant’s aunt lived in Queens, in a quiet neighborhood lined with tall trees and old houses that carried warmth in their walls. The moment we stepped inside, the smell of food greeted me, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, my chest ached sharply.

This was what a home was supposed to feel like.

“This is Hailey,” Grant said gently.

A woman turned from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. Her eyes softened the moment they met mine.

“You must be exhausted,” she said, walking toward me without hesitation. Before I could react, she pulled me into a warm embrace. “You’re welcome here. Whatever brought you to my door stays outside it.”

That was all it took.

I nodded, unable to speak as tears slipped down my cheeks. She didn’t comment on them. She simply held me a moment longer before guiding me inside. Her daughter, a little girl with curious eyes, peeked out from behind the hallway and smiled at me shyly. That smile lodged itself deep in my heart.

That night, I slept with my door unlocked.

It was a small thing, but it felt monumental.

The days that followed were quiet. Peaceful in a way that felt unnatural at first. There were no cold stares, no cutting remarks, no constant anxiety over whether I had displeased someone without realizing it. Grant came by every evening after work. Sometimes he brought groceries, sometimes he brought stories about meetings and the city, sometimes he brought nothing but his presence.

He never asked about Dylan.

He never asked about Lexa.

He allowed me to exist without explanation.

One afternoon, while the house was empty, I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the ultrasound image in my hands. My fingers trembled as I traced the faint outlines.

Two tiny shapes.

Two heartbeats.

Twins.

The word still felt unreal. Overwhelming. Terrifying and miraculous all at once.

A memory slammed into me without warning, Dylan’s voice cold and detached as he said I would have to remove it if I was pregnant. My stomach twisted violently, and I hugged myself, fighting back a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with hormones.

No one here knew the full truth. Not even Grant. He knew I was hurt. He knew I had escaped something painful. He knew I was carrying a child.

He did not know about the divorce papers or the cheque or Lexa’s handwritten note soaked in my blood.

And he did not know who the father was.

I hadn’t lied. I had simply stayed silent.

At night, doubts crept into my mind, cruel and relentless. What if Dylan never came looking because he truly didn’t care? What if Lexa convinced him I had aborted the baby? What if I failed here too and proved him right about me being nothing without him?

Each time those thoughts surfaced, I pressed my palm against my stomach and forced myself to breathe.

“No,” I whispered. “I won’t break.”

Weeks passed. My body began to change, slowly but noticeably. Aunt Rosa noticed before I did.

“You’re glowing,” she said one morning, smiling as she placed breakfast in front of me. “Pregnancy looks good on you.”

I managed a small smile. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

She laughed softly. “Strength never feels beautiful while you’re carrying it.”

Grant walked in then, his jacket slung over his shoulder. His eyes lingered on my stomach for just a second too long before he looked away. I saw the unasked questions in his expression.

“I spoke to someone at an institute,” he said carefully. “They have flexible programs. If you want to update your qualifications.”

“You don’t have to,” I said quietly.

“I know,” he replied. “I want to.”

That night, I filled out the application. Not because of Dylan. Not because of Lexa. But because I was tired of being powerless.

Back in California, Dylan stood in front of the mirror adjusting his cufflinks, the mansion unnervingly silent. Lexa’s laughter echoed down the hall, sharp and careless, grating on his nerves.

“She didn’t even take the money,” Lexa said lazily. “So dramatic.”

Dylan didn’t respond. Something felt wrong. The house felt empty in a way he couldn’t explain.

Hailey had always been there. Quiet. Steady. Unquestioning.

And now, there was nothing.

No calls. No messages. No sign of her existence.

For the first time, a slow unease crept into his chest.

He didn’t know it yet, but the silence she left behind was already beginning to cost him more than he ever imagined.