2: He Said He’s Engaged

|| Rachel ||

I lay on the bed as the doctor pressed the ultrasound wand against the cool gel on my abdomen. On the monitor, the grainy black-and-white swirls shifted. She moved the wand slowly as I closed my eyes, a single, hopeful tear tracing a path to my ear.

"Congratulations, you're having twins," the doctor announced.

My eyes snapped open as she pointed a stylus at the monitor where, now clearly visible, were two perfect, distinct sacs nestled close together — rapid heartbeats pulsing side by side, undeniable proof of two lives.

"The babies are healthy. They’re both securely in there and developing right on schedule. Everything looks good."

Tears prickled my eyes, blurring the sight of the two lives inside me. I couldn’t believe I was not only having one baby but two. Twins.

"Where is the father?" the doctor asked, looking at me over the rim of her thick, dark-rimmed glasses. Her hair was pulled back in a neat bun.

"He's busy," I said, managing a sad, weak smile.

She held my gaze for a moment, her own smile turning pained and knowing — a silent acknowledgment of a common heartache and the excuses she'd heard many times before. She didn’t believe me, but she simply nodded as she moved the probe again. I watched the image of my children.

When I left the hospital and got into my car with the test results, I opened the dashboard compartment where I kept the pregnancy stick in a small plastic box to keep it hidden from Slade. I carefully placed the result sheet on top of the box and closed it.

Then the tears burst from my eyes, falling in hot streams down my cheeks. The dam finally broke, and I cried until my vision blurred. People noticed — a couple even stopped and knocked on my window, asking if I was okay. I just nodded as they left, giving me sympathetic looks. It was a hospital, and tearful people weren’t an unusual sight, but I felt exposed and desperately alone.

I took my phone from my purse and saw missed calls from Slade. Quickly, I called him back.

I cleared my throat, pressed the phone to my ear, and tried to make my voice sound normal.

"Hello," I said.

"Hey, are you alright? I’ve been calling and getting worried, thinking you might have fainted or something, given how you’ve been these days."

"I'm fine. I'm sorry I didn’t pick up — I was caught up in something," I said.

"I'm just arriving at the banquet. Tell me where you are; I can turn around and come pick you up… or we can ditch if you aren’t feeling well."

​I sighed; I had totally forgotten about it.

"Hey, I’m alright. Why don’t you just go ahead? I’ll come a little later."

"Are you sure?"

I dragged my hand through my hair and bowed my head slightly.

"Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t worry about me."

"I’ll see you soon, then," he said.

I nodded and ended the call. Pressing my lips together, I felt another stream of tears spill down my cheeks. I let everything out before wiping my face and deciding to quickly shop for a new dress. I knew I wouldn’t fit into any of my old ones soon anyway — I could at least get a new one.

It took me two hours to get ready. I chose an emerald dress that fit me perfectly, and I looked dazzling.

Slade called me twice more. I didn’t pick up.

I arrived at the hall and walked in. The space was a decadent blur of crystal and gold: massive chandeliers cast a glittering light over hundreds of impeccably dressed guests, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume. Waiters moved silently among them, and a live orchestra played a soft, elegant melody.

I looked around and saw him in a navy suit, looking devastatingly handsome. He was surrounded by women who were always throwing themselves at him, thinking he was an eligible bachelor.

I took my phone from my purse and texted him: I’m here.

​I saw him take his phone from his suit pocket. He looked at it, a small smile forming on his lips, and scanned the hall. Then his eyes met mine. I smiled at him, and his smile widened, transforming his guarded, tired expression into something bright, genuine—and possessive.

The sight sent a wave of relief through me so intense that it briefly eclipsed all the panic and pain I’d felt, making me feel visible and utterly loved.

I was about to walk toward him and drag him away from those vultures when Jackie and Amanda approached me.

"Hey, Rachel," Jackie said as they both hugged me.

​

They were secretaries from other companies. We weren’t friends. We only ever met at banquets and charity events.

"He looks so damn good. I wouldn’t mind him taking me for a night, but too bad he’s taken," Jackie said, biting her lip as her eyes raked over him with blatant interest.

"Yeah, remember that, darling. All those women are wasting their time," Amanda added.

My whole body turned hot, like a sudden, violent fever had broken over me. My throat felt dry, but I gathered my courage and asked, "Who are you talking about?"

"Slade Pierce. He’s getting engaged soon," Amanda said casually.

"Engaged?" I asked. The single word sounded weak, brittle.

"What? Don’t tell me you don’t know, girl. Aren’t you his secretary?" Jackie asked, surprised.

"Well, he doesn’t really talk about his personal life," I said, though I could hear my voice come out a bit sharp—I hadn’t meant to snap.

"His family arranged it," Jackie continued. "The girl’s family are business partners, and I heard they’re also family friends, been close for generations. She’s a girl from his class."

My heart didn’t just sink—it shriveled, a cold, heavy stone lodged in my chest. I couldn’t believe I had actually thought Slade had feelings for me. But of course—perfect timing. Our marriage contract was ending, and once it did, he’d marry another woman. A woman from his world.

Suddenly, I was breathless. My lungs felt tight and empty, as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the hall, leaving me gasping on air that wouldn’t fill them.

"Excuse me," I said flatly, walking toward one of the doors that led to the garden. The chill air hit my face—a desperate shock against the heat burning inside me. I opened my mouth, desperate for air. My fingers dug into the stone railing. My love was a lie. My marriage was a simple countdown.

I heard footsteps and turned around. It was him, holding two glasses of wine. He handed one to me as I just stared at him.

"Aren’t you having a drink?" he asked.

I nodded—a curt, tight motion.

I wanted to scream, to tell him I was fucking pregnant with his babies! But I settled for, "Later."

He shrugged and gestured to a passing waiter, handing him the glass before taking a sip of his own.

After a moment of silence, I gathered my courage and asked, "Is it true you have a fiancée?"

"Yeah," he said simply.

That one word didn’t just break me; it severed the last thread of hope I’d been clinging to. It was the casualness of his admission, the lack of apology or explanation, that truly twisted the knife.

"Congratulations. I’m so happy for you. Anyway, I’ve been feeling so tired lately, and after all this, I think I’ll resign and maybe go to… Hawaii," I said, my voice thin but steady.

​He bit his lip between his teeth—a habit that always made him look so irresistibly deep in thought.

"Rest would look good on you, especially with how you’ve been feeling. Just know you can leave anytime you want. You deserve it."

That was it. He wouldn’t even try to stop me. But damn it, I had to tell him, because it was now or never.

"I actually wanted to tell you—"

"Slade, I’ve been looking for you,"

Thomas said, walking up to us. He was the owner of Sterling Industries, a major investor.

"What’s up?"

"Please, come with me. It’s urgent," Thomas said.

"I’ll be back," Slade said, placing a hand lightly on my arm before following him.

Another wave of tears spilled down my cheeks. The brief, cold touch of his hand was my final undoing. I didn’t wait. Spinning on my heel, I fled the garden, running through the doors and out into the evening.