Chapter 21

Sunday.

A day that was supposed to be bright and cheerful but instead it came with pain that I wasn't expecting.

The ache started off dull. A slight pull low in my belly, like the stretching of something fragile. I shifted under the covers, pressing a palm against my stomach, hoping the warmth of my hand would somehow make it go away.

It didn’t.

Instead, the pain deepened tight and sharp and wrong.

I sat up, breath catching. My room was still cloaked in early morning shadows, the faint sound of birds breaking the quiet. Sunday. It was supposed to be rest. Peace.

But peace was the last thing in the room.

The pain twisted again, and this time it brought a heat to my spine, curling me forward as I gasped. My heart pounded against my ribs. I clutched my stomach, fear rising like a wave about to break.

Please no.

I moved to get out of bed, and that’s when I felt it.

Wetness. A warmth that didn’t belong. I looked down and everything stopped.

Blood.

It trickled down my thighs in thin, merciless lines.

No. No no no.

I was trembling as I reached for my phone, fingers barely able to swipe across the screen. My thoughts raced, fractured and panicked. Who do I call? My parents were miles away. I had no close friends here. No one except

Max.

I didn’t even think. I hit his name and put the phone to my ear.

He answered on the second ring. “Lila?”

“Max,” I croaked. “I...something’s wrong. I’m bleeding. I need help.”

Silence, then a sharp inhale. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way.”

The line went dead, and I sat there, clutching my belly as tightly as I could without hurting myself, praying. Bargaining.

Please God. Please. Not my baby. Not like this.

Max arrived in under fifteen minutes. I barely remember the ride to the hospital, just his hand wrapped firmly around mine and the constant reassurance in his voice “You’re okay. We’re almost there. Just breathe.”

The emergency room was a blur. Nurses, bright lights, questions. A gurney. Then cold gel against my skin, a monitor beeping somewhere above my head.

I didn’t realize I was crying until one of the nurses wiped a tear from my cheek.

Then the sound; fast, fluttering, insistent.

The heartbeat.

My baby’s heartbeat.

I broke.

Relief poured out of me in choked sobs as the doctor smiled gently and turned the screen.

“You were lucky,” he said. “You came just in time. But you need to slow down, Lila. The stress, the lack of rest it’s too much. You almost lost the baby."

My throat tightened, guilt pressing down like iron. “I’ve just… had a lot going on.”

His brow furrowed. “And the father?" he asked, pointing to Max who had been standing silently in the corner. "Can't he help?”

Max took that as a cue to step forward instinctively.

But before he could say a word, I shook my head. “No. He’s just a friend.”

Max froze. I could feel his silence like a presence.

The doctor nodded slowly, scribbled something on his clipboard. “Well, friend or not, someone needs to be around. You need rest. I’m discharging you with strict orders to take it easy. At least for a whole week. Understood?”

I nodded, unable to meet Max’s eyes.

The ride home was thick with tension. Max said nothing for the first few minutes, just gripped the steering wheel tightly, his jaw clenched like he was holding something back.

“I can’t believe you’re not taking this seriously,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

I blinked, turning to him. “What do you mean?”

“You almost lost your baby this morning, Lila. You shouldn’t be thinking about work right now. You need rest.”

“I can’t take a leave right now,” I said, frustration rising in my chest. “We’re close to the launch. Everything I’ve worked for is building to this. I can’t take a week leave now.”

“Even if it costs you your baby?”

His words cut deep.

“Max, stop. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under.”

“No, I don’t,” he snapped. “Because I’m not the one risking everything. You are. And for what? A contract that won’t hold your hand when things fall apart?”

We pulled into my apartment complex. The moment the car stopped, I got out, needing space, needing air. He followed me in, the argument still hanging in the air between us.

Inside, I sank onto the couch, drained.

“You need to rest for a week,” Max repeated, softer now, but still firm.

“And I told you, I can’t. What reason do I give for the leave. I can't let Drew find out that I'm pregnant, at least not this way.” I murmured, hugging a pillow to my chest.

He stepped forward, anger flashing again. “And what about what the doctor said? What about what just happened? Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Of course it does,” I shouted. “But that doesn’t mean I can just stop everything. My job, my goals they still matter. I need to keep going.”

Max exhaled sharply, pacing a little. “You didn’t even consider my offer, did you?”

I looked at him, startled.

“The doctor asked if I was the father. You didn’t hesitate to say no. Not that I expected you to lie, but you made it very clear that I’m nothing more than a friend.”

“Because you are,” I whispered.

His jaw tightened. “Right. Just a friend who left everything to rush you to the hospital. Just a friend trying to be there when the actual father isn’t.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I shot back. “You chose to.”

He looked at me like I’d slapped him. “I did. And I’d do it again. But you need to ask yourself why you won’t let anyone help you. Why won’t you let me help you.”

I stared at him, breathing hard. The silence stretched long between us.

Then the words slipped out.

“Why, Max?”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

“Why are you so desperate to be part of this?” I asked, voice trembling. “Why do you care this much? Why do you want to take responsibility for a child that isn’t even yours?”