CHAPTER 2

HAZEL COLLINS POV

Leaving Anderson Airlines was supposed to be the hardest part, but life has a sick way of proving you wrong.

Four weeks after that stormy night in Caleb’s office, I found myself staring at a plastic stick in my small, cramped apartment bathroom. Two solid pink lines stared back at me. I shook my head, my hands trembling as I unwrapped a second test, then a third. All identical.

I was pregnant.

A wave of intense nausea hit me, and it wasn't just morning sickness. It was sheer terror. I was completely broke, out of a job, and carrying the child of a man who viewed me as nothing more than a temporary distraction. Later that afternoon, an emergency ultrasound at a free clinic dropped a second bomb on my lap. The doctor smiled, pointing at the grainy monitor. There wasn't just one heartbeat. There were two.

Twins. I was having twins.

For a split second, a desperate, foolish part of me thought about Caleb. Maybe if he knew about the babies, things would change. Maybe his corporate responsibility wouldn't matter anymore. I grabbed my phone, my fingers hovering over his blocked number. I needed to see him. Just once.

But as I opened my browser to look up the airline’s schedule, the front page of every major entertainment site stopped my heart.

“The Aviation Romance of the Century: Caleb Anderson and Bianca Harrington Official Engagement Gala Live Tonight.”

There was a live stream embedded in the article. I couldn't stop myself from clicking it. The screen flashed to a grand ballroom lit up by crystal chandeliers. There he was. Caleb looked breathtakingly handsome in a tailored tuxedo, standing next to Bianca, who wore a diamond necklace that could buy my apartment building.

The reporter asked him how it felt to finally secure the merger and his future bride. Caleb looked straight into the camera, his expression calm and unbothered. “It’s exactly where I'm supposed to be,” he said, his deep voice smooth. “Bianca belongs by my side.”

A cold numbness washed over me. I looked down at my flat stomach, my tears finally spilling over. He didn't care. He was already moving on with his perfect, high-society life while I was sitting on a cold bathroom floor, terrified of how I was going to buy next month's groceries. If his elitist parents ever found out about my pregnancy, they would either bribe me to get rid of them or tear my babies away from me to avoid a public scandal. I would become the unwanted, despised mother of illegitimate heirs.

I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let them humiliate my children the way they humiliated me.

I had to run.

I spent the next three hours packing my entire life into two battered suitcases. I emptied my meager savings account and used every single dollar to book a one-way flight to London, scheduled to leave in four hours. It was a complete gamble, but I had a distant aunt there who owned a small bakery. It was the only place I could disappear without a trace.

Meanwhile, across the city, the grand ballroom was loud, filled with the clinking of champagne glasses and fake congratulations.

Caleb stood near the VIP lounge, holding a glass of scotch he hadn't touched. He looked at Bianca, who was busy flaunting her ring to a group of photographers, and felt absolutely nothing. For the past month, the silence in his office had been deafening. Every time he smelled vanilla coffee, he looked up, expecting to see Hazel’s quiet smile. He had tried to convince himself that she was just an assistant, a habit he needed to break. But the hollow ache in his chest told a completely different story.

His phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. It was a text from his head of security.

“Sir, you asked me to monitor Hazel Collins. Her apartment landlord just reported she cleared out her room. A flight manifest just cleared. She’s at JFK international terminal right now, boarding a flight out of the country.”

Caleb’s glass shattered on the floor, red wine spilling across the pristine white marble. Bianca gasped, turning to him. “Caleb? What’s wrong with you?”

He didn't answer. The realization hit him like a physical blow—Hazel wasn't just angry. She was erasing him from her life completely.

Ignoring his father’s shouting and Bianca’s dramatic protests, Caleb turned around and bolted out of the gala. He drove like a maniac through the heavy New York traffic, his heart pounding against his ribs. He couldn't let her go. He would call off the merger, defy his parents, do whatever it took. He just needed her back.

By the time he slammed his car to a halt outside the terminal, he ran inside, flashing his executive airline badge past security. He raced toward the international departure gates, his eyes frantically scanning the crowds.

"Hazel!" he roared, his voice desperate, attracting stares from hundreds of passengers. "Hazel!"

He checked the monitor for the London flight. The status screen flashed in bright red letters: Departed.

Caleb slowly walked up to the massive glass window, watching a giant commercial jet lift off into the dark, rainy night sky, disappearing into the clouds. He pressed his hand against the cold glass, his breathing ragged as the crushing weight of his choices finally broke him.

She was gone.