005

HEIDI

I didn’t sleep that night, I sat in the back of a taxi with my forehead against the cold window, watching Jace’s neighborhood disappear.

My suitcase rested beside me. Inside it, still tucked away, was my wedding ring. I hadn’t been able to leave it behind. Maybe that made me weak. Or maybe some part of me simply wasn’t ready to admit the marriage was already over.

By the time I reached my mother’s house the sky was beginning to lighten. I carried the suitcase straight to the guest room, closed the door, and sank onto the bed.

My body was exhausted, but my mind kept replaying the night—his arms around me, the slow way he had moved inside me, the way he had looked at me afterward as if he was seeing me for the first time.

For a few hours I had let myself believe something might finally change. Morning brought reality with it. I was still only Heidi Reed. His physiotherapist. The woman he had married because he needed a status and I needed tuition. Nothing had changed except that now I had something far more fragile to lose.

~~~~~~

Three days passed without a word from him. Every time my phone rang my heart jumped, then sank when it wasn’t his name. On the fourth day I returned to the training facility. I had considered requesting a transfer, but I refused to let my personal life destroy the career I had worked so hard for.

Jace was already on the field. The moment he saw me he left the drill and walked over.

“Heidi.”

“Good morning.”

His eyes searched my face. “You left without saying anything.”

“You were sleeping. I didn’t want to make it harder.”

“It did,” he said quietly.“Come back home. I don’t like the apartment without you.”

My heart stopped. “You don’t miss me.”

“I do.” that came immediately, almost angrily, as if he resented the truth of it. “I’ve been thinking about everything you said. I don’t want a divorce.”

“Why?”

He looked away. “I don’t know.”

I smiled sadly. “You still don’t know. I can’t come back just because you dislike being alone, Jace. I can’t stay married to you because you’re afraid of losing the person who’s always been there. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t love you.”

His eyes met mine softly. “I know.”

The softness in his voice nearly undid me. Then his phone rang. Maya’s name lit the screen. Everything inside me went cold. He didn’t answer at once—his gaze stayed on mine—but when it rang again he finally took the call.

“Maya? What happened? …Wait for me, I’ll come.”

He ended it and looked at me. I already knew. “I’m sorry, she needs me,” he said hesitantly.

I stepped back.

“I'll come back for you.” He then turned and walked away. I watched him disappear down the hallway. I would not compete with Maya. I would not beg him to choose me. I would not spend another year hoping he might one day wake up and see his wife.

Next week, we will get a divorce.

~ ONE MONTH LATER ~

The divorce was finalized. Three years of being Mrs. Stanford, and now I was simply Heidi Reed again. I should have felt relieved. Instead I felt hollow.

A few days ago, the nausea began. At first I blamed stress—the sleepless nights, the search for a new apartment, the quiet work of rebuilding a life.

But the sickness came every morning, followed by dizziness that left me gripping the edge of my desk mid-consultation.

Now, I stood in a pharmacy aisle staring at the pregnancy tests for nearly five minutes before I bought two.

At home my hands shook as I opened the package. “This is ridiculous,” I whispered. We had only been together that one night after three years. Still, I followed the instructions and set the test on the bathroom counter. I forced myself not to look—washed my hands, straightened my hair, picked up my phone and put it down again—until the minutes had passed.

The strip showed two lines.

I couldn't breathe as I picked up the test, checked the instructions twice, then sat heavily on the closed toilet seat as my knees gave way.

I was pregnant with Jace’s baby. A strange mix of fear and warmth flooded through me. For one brief moment I imagined telling him..

I wanted to know whether he would want this child, whether he would come back. Then reality settled over me. We were divorced. He had signed the papers and Maya was still in his life.

I pressed a trembling hand over my stomach. “You’re mine,” I whispered. “And I’ll take care of you.” This baby would not grow up watching its mother beg its father for love. Jace didn’t need to know. Not now. Maybe not ever.