FAZER LOGIN“I need time,”
I said, before he could say anything else. “I’ve had six hours of information I didn’t ask for, and I can’t take in one more thing tonight. I need to just breathe. Think. Alone.” He nods “that’s fair” I reached for the door handle again, and this time nothing stopped me, until his voice caught me halfway through it. “Ms. Noelle.” I turned, bracing for whatever this was. He pulled out a card walking towards me, I watched him as he placed a card into my hand . His scent flooded my senses, it was then when I looked up to him I realized how tall he was. “That’s my personal card. I have a guest wing at my house, private, its own entrance if you want it. You wouldn’t have to see me if you didn’t want to. I’m rarely even home before midnight most days. I just thought it would be more comfortable than a hotel, or going back somewhere that doesn’t feel safe anymore.” For a second, the offer almost sounded reasonable enough to consider. Then I remembered who was offering it, and why. “I didn’t know you could make such an offer to a stranger” I said “but I’m not something you can manage. I’ll take care of myself” “I know that.” His voice stayed even. “It wasn’t meant to fix anything. “I just didn’t want you going back to a house you don’t feel safe in anymore.” I smiled sadly realizing it. I must have told him I was divorced for him to make a statement like that “I have somewhere to go,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure that was true anymore. “Thank you, but no.” He didn’t argue. He just nodded once, like he’d expected the answer and respected it anyway and let me leave. Immediately I did, it was like I could finally breathe, I quickly made my way to the car to regroup myself, my hand found its way to my belly again “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you’re okay” I promised my growing baby. Everything may be a mess now, but hopefully it will work out. But for now I need to focus on my health, regardless of everything I will make sure my baby is okay. The drive home blurred past in a way I couldn’t remember afterwards, the streetlights, a red light I might have run, the ache behind my eyes from crying too much and an overload of information in too short a span of hours. The porch light was on when I pulled into the driveway. So was the living room lamp. I sat in the car for a second, staring at it. I hadn’t left any lights on. I was sure of that, but then again probably Trent was back I let myself in quietly, half-expecting an intruder or Trent probably busy in the kitchen but instead I found his jacket thrown over the back of the couch. His shoes by the door. And laughter, but it wasn’t just his, but a soft familiar laughter as well coming from the kitchen. I don’t know what made me keep walking instead of turning around. Maybe the same stubborn thing that had made me chase Ines down a hallway that morning or the faith I had in Trent that he was just having a guest over. Trent was leaning against the counter, a glass of wine in his hand, mid-laugh at something the woman across from him had said, then my stomach sank when I saw them kissing. Josie. My best friend since college. The one who’d sat with me when I told her about my failed round of IVF, who’d held my hand in waiting rooms, who’d told me a few weeks ago that Trent didn’t deserve me and I should leave him before he broke my heart worse than he already had. She saw me first. Her face went white. “Noelle—” Trent turned, and for a moment none of us moved, like we were waiting for someone else to admit what this was so we wouldn’t have to say it out loud. “You told me she left already” Josie whispered angrily and I couldn’t believe my ears “I–“ “Is that why you were eager to be divorced because you had her?” The question left my mouth before I could process it. I looked at Josie, waiting for her to deny it, to have some explanation that made this survivable. She didn’t. She just stood there, arms wrapped around herself, looking anywhere but at me. “How long,” I said. Neither of them answered. “How long, Josie.” I was about to snap “Noelle, let me expl—” “How. Long.” “Four months,” she said, so quietly I almost didn’t catch it. Four months. Longer than I’d been pregnant. Longer than the last two failed IVF rounds she’d cried with me over, like she hadn’t already known exactly why my marriage was falling apart before I did. I didn’t cry. I didn’t yell. Something in me had simply run out of the capacity for either. “Get out of my house,” I said. “Both of you.” Trent opened his mouth like he might argue, took one look at my face, and thought better of it. “Let’s go, I can’t deal with this” I stood in my kitchen alone for a long time after the door closed behind them, staring at an abandoned glass of wine on my counter, and thought about a private guest wing in a house that wasn’t mine either but at least it was secluded and no one had lied to me, and I get to be away from this and away from Trent. If he could be selfish, why can’t I? I picked up my phone and the card Dorian gave me not caring if I looked desperate or not. “I’ve changed my mind”, I typed. “If the offer still stands” The reply came faster than I expected. “It does. I’ll send a car.”That night I couldn’t sleep, not only because of the tension but the twins were moving around too much. It started as a slow roll beneath my ribs, then a sharp little jab, then something that felt a lot like both of them deciding to practice somersaults at once. I opened my eyes to gray morning light and pressed my palm against my stomach, wincing. "Easy," I whispered. "I'm up. I'm up." I sighed tiredly One of them kicked again, harder, and a dull, stretching ache pulled low across my belly. Not sharp, not the tight, unfamiliar pressure from the other day. Just uncomfortable, like my skin had grown a size too small overnight. I shifted onto my side, tried a deep breath, and felt the whole bed dip as Dorian sat up beside me. We slept together more often now "What is it?" He was awake all at once, his hand already on my shoulder, his voice scraped raw with sleep. "Noelle." "I'm okay." I smiled through it, thinking the babies were just being playful "You're holding your stomach
My body stretched out sluggish as I tried to fully wake up, my eyes were still heavy from sleeping and the room quiet. It took me about ten more minutes to fully wake up and sit up in bed, I rubbed my underbelly to get my body moving, before standing up. After using the toilet, I went to the study to look for Dorian. The study was empty. His chair was pushed back from the desk, his laptop open, a half-drunk cup of coffee gone cold beside it. For a second the empty room made my stomach dip, the way it had that morning in the hospital, until I heard a clatter drift up from the kitchen, followed by Marta's voice, low and amused. I followed the sound down the hall. The smell of garlic and butter and something warm and savory that made my mouth water before I'd even reached the kitchen. I stopped in the doorway, the table was already set and covered Dorian stood at the stove with his back to me, sleeves rolled to the elbow, a dish towel slung over one shoulder. A pan sizzled in fro
I waited until her breathing evened out before I let myself leave. Noelle slept the way she did everything else, fiercely and a little crooked, one hand curled protectively over her stomach, her hair fanned across the pillow like she'd lost an argument with it. I stood at the door longer than I should have. Long enough to watch her chest rise and fall twice. Long enough to remember the sound of her voice saying I love you, small and steady, like it had cost her everything. It had cost me something, too. I just hadn't realized how much until she said it. I closed the door with the quiet click she liked, and went down to my study. Camille had never said it. I'd told myself that was the arrangement, the honest part, the part we never lied about. We'd agreed on the facade and the terms, and love hadn't been on either list. But sitting behind my desk now, staring at the dark screen of my phone, I understood something I'd been avoiding for years: I hadn't missed it with her because I'
The voice note started off cracking. Josie's voice came out thin and strained, like she'd been crying or something “Hey…erm.” She sighs as if struggling to get the words out “I know this…unnecessary but I was just…erm checking on you.” A pause “people make mistakes Noelle. And I know you probably…I mean you do hate me but I just wanted to get it off my chest. I wanted to meet up personally but I’m sure you wouldn’t want to see my face” My hands fisted listening to her, old wounds reopening but I tried to keep my cool “yeah…hope you’re okay though. You might never listen to this but I hope you do” I was getting tired of the sympathies and wanted to end it but the voice note cracked and the tone changed “now that, that’s off my chest” she sighs as if smiling “you have your own faults too you know? I mean…aiming for a rich guy? Well I guess I’m happy for you…but does he know it’s not his? I honestly didn’t think you would stoop so low, and to think you were innocent when you were
Dorian made sure I finished my meal, promising me everything would be fine and honestly I didn’t have the energy to argue. Most of my energy was already going towards the twins. By the time we were done with lunch, Dorian was already on his phone. He set the phone on the table between us. A calm, dry voice came through, the kind that had probably talked down a lot of panicked clients. "Mrs. Reyes, I'm sorry we're meeting this way. Dorian, I've read the piece twice. It's sloppy, but it was timed. Someone wanted it out before you could issue a statement." "Margaret," Dorian said again. "Likely. But likely isn't proof." Elias's tone sharpened. "The article gets the details wrong. It says embryos. Your records say a sample. That matters, because it means whoever leaked this had access to the clinic's file but not the whole file. I'd like to know who." I stared at the phone, my pulse unsteady. “Wait, does that mean she had a spy or something in the hospital?” “That is plausible” E
Dorian had fallen asleep with one arm draped over my waist, his face turned toward my shoulder, the lines that usually sat between his brows finally smoothed away. In sleep he looked younger, and less guarded. Like a man who'd set down something heavy. I stared at the ceiling and tried to make sense of what had just happened to me. Months ago, I would have laughed if someone told me I'd end up here. Not in this house, not with his hand resting on my stomach as if the babies were the most precious thing he'd ever been trusted with, not with my skin still warm from his touch. I'd walked into this marriage thinking it was an arrangement, a way to keep my children safe and my name out of the headlines. I had never planned on wanting him. But I did. God, I did. And it wasn't only the way he'd touched me, though my cheeks heated just thinking about it. It was how careful he'd been, asking at every step, stopping when he thought I might be afraid. Trent had never once asked me what I







