CHAPTER 34

Vanessa's POV

I picked the dress on purpose because it had cream silk and an empire waist. It had the kind of cut that whispered instead of scream. It was tight enough that the cameras would ask questions in the comments, and loose enough that I could still say “oh this old thing” and laugh like it was nothing.

My hair was down, combed straight and glossy. I spent 40 minutes on it.

I applied a bright red lipstick on my lips before putting on the diamond studs that Brent bought me last Christmas when he was still pretending he loved me more than the headlines and the brand deals.

The balcony of the Langley penthouse was perfect. The golden hour bled across the city skyline behind me. You could see the river and the stadium lights in the distance.

A ring light was hidden in the potted ficus so I wouldn’t look washed out. I’d told the housekeeper to leave it there. She did without asking why.

Brent stood behind the camera with his phone in his hand. He hated doing this. He said it felt cheap.

I told him being cheap was what got us here.

“Rolling,” he said, in a flat voice. He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I took a breath and my hand drifted to my stomach, which was empty and flat. My abs were still there if I sucked in but no one needed to know that yet.

“Hi guys,” I said to the lens in a smooth yet shaky voice like I was holding back tears. Like I’d practiced this in the mirror seventeen times. “Brent and I have some news.”

I paused to let the silence stretch. The live viewer count was already climbing from 2k views until it got to 10k views.

Comments flooded up the side of the screen too fast to read.

"What news?'

''Are you pregnant??'

'OMG tell us'

Brent came into frame behind me and put his hands on my shoulders.

“We weren’t going to say anything yet,” he said. His voice had that gravel he uses in post-game interviews. “But we’re so excited we can’t keep it quiet.”

I looked up at him with a practiced and adoring smile broken in all the right places.

“We’re expecting,” I whispered.

Then I let the tears fall perfectly down my cheek. I’d dabbed water under my eye before we started.

Then the phone exploded with congratulatory messages. Some of the comments took slight jabs at Helena. I saw them but didn't bother to address it.

Brent squeezed my shoulder. “It’s been a hard year for us,” he said to the camera. “We lost one before. This one… this one feels like a miracle.”

That was a lie but it was a good one.

I leaned into him and let him kiss my temple, the cameras catching the way his hand rested protectively over my stomach. I knew they would definitely screenshot this part and make it the thumbnail on every sports blog by morning.

Inside, I was counting down. By three months, we will need a baby bump, I had a shapewear that I had picked out already. By the sixth month, we will need an ultrasound, I already had a plan for that. By the ninth month, there needed to be a baby.

I still had plenty of time to decide where I was going to get a baby from.

By 7:03pm. I hit “share to story” and “post to feed” at the same time.

By 7:04, ESPN had picked it up and created a little banner.

By 7:10, my DMs were full of brands. Maternity deals. Baby brands. A diaper company offering 200k for 3 posts and a stroller company wanting to “gift” us the new model.

By 7:15, someone tagged Helena to the post.

I turned off the comments and walked inside. The air conditioning hit my bare arms. Brent was already pouring himself a drink at the bar. He didn’t bother looking at me.

“You didn’t have to cry,” he said.

“I did,” I said, kicking off my heels. They were four inches and killing me already. “People don’t believe in happiness. They believe it hurts. They believe almost-lost-it.”

He downed the whiskey in one go. “What if she says something?”

“Helena?” I laughed. It sounded real even to me. “She can’t. She’s busy being the bitter ex with no ring and no team. Who’s going to believe her over us?... Over you Brent?”

He didn’t answer. He just poured another drink.

My phone buzzed on the marble counter. It was a text telling me that the hormones are now working and the bleeding had started right on schedule, I was clear and due for the next appointment in the next two weeks.

I deleted the message right after reading it.

I deleted it and emptied the trash folder. Then I put my hand on my stomach again.

The world thought I was pregnant but for how long. In this game, perception is everything. Reality catches up later.

Brent walked past me to the bedroom. “Don’t post again tonight,” he said over his shoulder. “Let it breathe.”

I smiled at the dark TV screen. My face was still on it.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won't”

Because the next post was already scheduled for 8am which was the sonogram.

I’d pulled it 8 months ago from Helena’s file. The night security dragged her out of this very apartment while she was still bleeding. She’d left her patient folder in the rush. I’d told the nurse I was her assistant and needed copies for insurance.

It was a perfect 12-week scan with her name in the corner.

She never even got to announce hers. Now the whole world would mourn mine instead.

##

I poured my own drink into the cup, it was just water with lemon. I had to stay hydrated for the pregnancy glow.

And I toasted to the camera that wasn’t there anymore.

“To the Langley baby,” I said to the empty room.