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Chapter 19: Nora Crosses the Ocean

Author: ChupiCha
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-26 11:02:31

(Keyla POV)

By the time I finally sent the message, it was 11:43 p.m., I’d been staring at the words for so long the night already felt used up by them.

I’m pregnant.

Three seconds after it delivered, Nora was calling.

I answered because if I ignored the call, Nora would know immediately that something was wrong beyond the obvious, and because I was tired of carrying things alone in the dark of a room that smelled like someone else’s laundry.

“How long have you known,” she said. Not are yo
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  • One Night with My Ex-Fiancé’s Ruthless Brother   Chapter 20: The First Heartbeat

    (Keyla POV) I almost cancelled it twice. The night before, I opened the clinic confirmation email three separate times and still never made it past the address line, when I’d opened the clinic’s confirmation email to check the address and closed the laptop before I could finish reading it. The second was the morning of, standing in the bathroom with my toothbrush, trying to come up with a believable excuse for not going. Nora knocked on the bathroom door at eight forty-five. “We leave in fifteen minutes.” I spat toothpaste into the sink. “I’m aware. I’m trying not to fake my own disappearance before breakfast.” “I’m telling you anyway.” She just said it and walked back to the kitchenette before I could argue with her — just said it and went back to making tea, which was how she operated most mornings now. By now the room carried obvious signs that two people were living in it whether it had space for that or not. Everything had been shoved into practical systems because otherw

  • One Night with My Ex-Fiancé’s Ruthless Brother   Chapter 19: Nora Crosses the Ocean

    (Keyla POV) By the time I finally sent the message, it was 11:43 p.m., I’d been staring at the words for so long the night already felt used up by them. I’m pregnant. Three seconds after it delivered, Nora was calling. I answered because if I ignored the call, Nora would know immediately that something was wrong beyond the obvious, and because I was tired of carrying things alone in the dark of a room that smelled like someone else’s laundry. “How long have you known,” she said. Not are you sure or oh my god — just straight to the practical question, that was exactly how Nora handled panic. Straight past the emotion and into the facts. That hearing her sound normal made it easier to breathe. “Three days. I did three tests.”“Okay,” Nora said quietly, and I could hear her shifting around on her end of the call like she was already reorganizing the situation in her head. “Is it Adrian’s?” The question landed exactly where I knew it eventually would. I’d been dreading and also, in

  • One Night with My Ex-Fiancé’s Ruthless Brother   Chapter 18: Two Lines

    (Keyla POV) I’d been blaming the nausea on stress for eleven days before I ran out of that explanation. Honestly, stress would have made perfect sense. I was sleeping badly in an unfamiliar room, eating inconsistently, running three freelance projects simultaneously on a laptop that overheated if I had more than four tabs open. My body had plenty of reasons to complain, and lately it had been taking full advantage of them. But after eleven days, even I was running out of ways to explain it away. What finally stopped sounding like stress was the timing— showing up every morning at almost the exact same hour, then fading by noon — was starting to feel less like anxiety and more like something that had a schedule. The pharmacy near the building had self-checkout machines, and I headed for them automatically. I bought the cheapest test on the shelf, a single-use brand with packaging that was slightly battered from being at the front of the display, and I tapped my card, grabbed the pa

  • One Night with My Ex-Fiancé’s Ruthless Brother   Chapter 17: The Lie They Sold

    (Keyla POV) Adrian’s statement hit the news Tuesday morning at exactly the hour people were commuting, scrolling, and half-paying attention. Someone had coached him well, because left alone Adrian would have posted something emotional at midnight and regretted it by sunrise. Instead, the statement was polished enough to survive public scrutiny. It was two paragraphs, measured, with just enough vulnerability to read as genuine and just enough restraint to read as dignified. Keyla was not emotionally ready for the commitments of this marriage. That was the line that got pulled for headlines. Not she left or she disappeared — emotionally ready, the wording made it sound ongoing, like the wedding had only exposed problems everyone close to her had quietly endured for months. I watched the coverage from the Churchill Sentinel private media room, Marcus had turned the room into a reputation bunker months ago. Three screens ran different coverage feeds while headlines refreshed in the c

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    (Keyla POV) The contractions started at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday, which would have been annoying under any circumstance. Unfortunately, labor did not care about my plans. I called Nora first. It rang six times before going to voicemail, and those six rings scared me more than the contractions had so far. Rain hammered the window, my go-bag waited by the door where it had been since week thirty-four, and for one awful second I thought I might have to do this completely alone. I left a message, hung up, and called a taxi. She called back while I was forcing my shoes on between contractions.“I’m here. I’m here. How far apart?” "Eight minutes. Maybe seven now." "Okay." The sound of movement on her end, fast. "The clinic on Brewer Street, yes? The one we toured?" "Already called them. They're expecting me." "I'm getting on the first flight I can — four hours, maybe five. Can you—" "I'll be fine." I picked up the bag. The cufflink envelope was still at the bottom of the bag wh

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