CHAPTER 34: Identity Crisis

The call came on a Thursday afternoon.

My old principal, Dr. Morrison, wanted to meet for coffee.

"Is this about a reference?" I asked, confused. I'd left my teaching job months ago when the scandal broke.

"Just coffee," she said warmly. "No agenda. I miss seeing you, Bella."

Something about her tone made me suspicious. But I agreed.

We met at a café in Brooklyn, far from Manhattan's prying eyes.

Dr. Morrison looked older than I remembered. More tired.

"How are you?" she asked. "I saw the wedding photos. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"And you're pregnant. That's wonderful."

"Twelve weeks. It's a girl."

"A girl!" She smiled genuinely. "Bella, that's beautiful. You'll be a wonderful mother."

There was a pause. An awkward one.

"Dr. Morrison, why did you really ask me here?"

She sighed. "Because I have a proposition. And I want you to hear it before you say no."

"Okay..."

"The school board approved funding for a new literacy program. Reading intervention for at-risk students. I need someone to run it. Design the curriculum, train the teachers, oversee implementation."

My heart skipped. "That's... that's amazing."

"I want you, Bella. You were the best reading specialist we had. The kids loved you. The parents trusted you. You got results."

"Dr. Morrison, I left. The scandal—"

"The scandal was tabloid nonsense. We both know that." She leaned forward. "I don't care who you're married to or how complicated your personal life is. I care that you're a damn good teacher and these kids need you."

I felt tears threatening. "I don't know what to say."

"Say you'll think about it. The position starts in September. Part-time, three days a week. You'd be done by 3 PM every day. Plenty of time for the baby."

"I'm due in August."

"We'll work around it. Maternity leave, flexible schedule, whatever you need." Her eyes were intense. "Bella, you were meant to teach. Don't let James Sterling or the media or anyone else take that away from you."

---

I didn't tell Alexander about the meeting right away.

Instead, I spent the afternoon walking through Central Park, thinking.

Teaching had been my identity. My purpose. My passion.

But now I was Bella Sterling. Billionaire's wife. Soon-to-be mother.

Did I still need a career? Did I even want one?

The thought made me feel guilty. Privileged. Lost.

My phone rang. Alexander.

"Where are you? Your bodyguard says you're in the park."

"Just walking. Thinking."

"About what?"

"Everything. Life. Who I am now."

A pause. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know." My voice cracked. "Can you come get me? I'm by Bethesda Fountain."

"I'm already on my way."

---

He found me sitting on a bench, watching couples row boats across the lake.

"Talk to me," he said, sitting beside me.

I told him everything. Dr. Morrison's offer. The literacy program. My confusion.

"Do you want to take it?" he asked when I finished.

"I don't know. Part of me does. But part of me feels like I shouldn't have to work anymore. Like wanting a career makes me ungrateful for everything you've given me."

"That's bullshit."

I looked at him, surprised.

"You're not a trophy wife, Bella. You're a teacher. An educator. Someone who changes kids' lives. That doesn't stop just because you married me."

"But the baby—"

"The baby will have two parents. A nanny if we need one. Grandparents who are dying to babysit. You can have both—a career and a family."

"Can I? Really? Or is that what people say to make women feel better about impossible choices?"

He took my hand. "I can't answer that for you. But I can tell you this: I fell in love with Bella Martinez, the passionate teacher who talked about books like they were magic. If you want to be that person again, I support you. If you want to stay home with the baby, I support you. Either way, you're not defined by me or my money."

"But I am defined by them now. By being your wife. By being a Sterling."

"Only if you let yourself be." He cupped my face. "You're still Bella. Still you. The name on your driver's license changed. Nothing else has to."

I leaned into his touch. "I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing myself. Of becoming just 'Alexander Sterling's wife' and forgetting who Bella Martinez was."

"Then don't forget. Keep teaching. Keep being passionate. Keep changing the world, one student at a time." He smiled. "Just do it as Bella Sterling. Show everyone that you're more than your marriage."

"What if the media makes it impossible? What if parents don't want their kids taught by the 'scandalous' Mrs. Sterling?"

"Then those parents are idiots. And their loss will be someone else's gain."

I laughed despite myself. "You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple. Do you want the job?"

"Yes," I realized. "I really do."

"Then take it. We'll figure out the rest."

---

That night, I called Dr. Morrison.

"I'll do it," I said. "I'll run your literacy program."

Her relief was audible. "Thank God. I was worried you'd say no."

"I almost did. But someone reminded me that I'm more than just a wife."

"Damn right you are. You're Bella Martinez Sterling, badass teacher and advocate for kids."

Martinez Sterling. Both names. Both identities.

I liked the sound of that.

After we worked out details—start date after maternity leave, part-time hours, curriculum freedom—I hung up and found Alexander in his office.

"I took the job."

He stood immediately, pulling me into his arms. "I'm proud of you."

"Are you sure? I'll be gone three days a week. The baby—"

"The baby will be fine. You'll be fine. We'll all be fine." He kissed me. "And selfishly, I love that my daughter will grow up seeing her mother as a working woman. Someone who didn't give up her dreams just because she got married."

"Your daughter might also see her mother as exhausted and overwhelmed."

"She'll see her mother as strong and capable and passionate. Just like I do."

I melted against him. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

"Practice. I've had fifty-two years to work on my communication skills."

"And you're still working on them?"

"Marriage is a lifelong learning process." He smiled. "Though I have to admit, I'm enjoying this particular lesson."

We were kissing when his phone rang.

Marcus. Again.

Alexander ignored it.

It rang again.

"Take it," I said. "It might be important."

He sighed and answered. "This better be urgent... What?... When?... Are you sure?"

His face went pale.

"I'll be right there." He hung up and looked at me, worried.

"What's wrong?"

"James. He just filed a lawsuit against me."

My stomach dropped. "For what?"

"Everything. Wrongful termination. Defamation. Emotional distress. He's suing for $50 million and demanding full control of Sterling Corporation."

I felt sick. "He can't do that. Can he?"

"He can try." Alexander's jaw was set. "His lawyer's arguing that I used my position to destroy his career and reputation. That the firing was retaliatory and illegal."

"But you had cause. The harassment. The embezzlement."

"Which we'll have to prove in court. With witnesses. Documents. A full trial." He ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to get ugly, Bella. Very ugly."

"How ugly?"

"Discovery means they'll dig into everything. Our relationship timeline. The pregnancy. Every private moment. They'll try to prove I chose you over my own son out of... I don't know, lust, manipulation, whatever plays well to a jury."

I sank into a chair. "He's trying to destroy us."

"He's trying to destroy me. And using us to do it."

"What do we do?"

"We fight. We hire the best lawyers money can buy. We prepare for war." His eyes were hard. "James wants a public battle? He'll get one. But he's not going to win."

As I sat there, one hand on my belly, I realized something.

This was never going to end.

Not really.

James would always be there. Always fighting. Always trying to tear down what we'd built.

The question was: could we survive it?

Could our marriage, our family, our love withstand constant attacks?

I looked at Alexander—strong, determined, ready to fight.

Then I looked at my bump, where our daughter was growing.

We had to survive.

For her.

Whatever it took.