Episode:10 The Unexpected News

SOFIA

We were barely out of the building when Ethan spoke.

“Is this how you get close to men?”

I turned to look at him.

Daniel was driving, his eyes carefully fixed on the road, wearing the particular stillness of a man pretending very hard not to be listening.

“Excuse me?”

“The hug. The hand holding.” Ethan's voice was flat, almost bored—the way he said things when he wanted them to land harder by sounding like they cost him nothing. “Is that how you get close to men? Throw yourself at them in a meeting room?”

I felt heat rise straight up my neck.

“I wasn't throwing myself at anyone.”

“Looked like it from where I was sitting.”

“Well, you were wrong.” My voice came out sharper than I intended. “Besides…”

The words left my mouth before I had fully decided to say them.

“Do you expect me to throw myself at a woman? He's my boyfriend.”

I heard the words leave my mouth and felt the regret arrive almost instantly, landing somewhere behind my ribs with a small, sick lurch.

I had no idea why I'd said it.

It wasn't even true—not really, not in any way that mattered.

Ethan looked at me for a long moment.

Then he simply nodded.

He said nothing else.

From the front seat, I caught the briefest movement of Daniel's shoulders—the particular shake of a man fighting very hard not to laugh and mostly succeeding.

I looked away.

We arrived at the restaurant in silence.

It was a small, quiet place with low lighting, the kind of establishment that didn't need to announce its prices because everyone walking in already knew them.

We were seated at a table near the window, facing each other.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

“Don't you recognize me?” Ethan said suddenly.

I blinked.

“What?”

He looked down at the menu.

I frowned slightly, about to ask what he meant, when the waitress arrived and the question dissolved into the business of ordering.

We both chose quickly—him with the brief efficiency of someone who ate in restaurants like this constantly, me still distracted by whatever he'd just asked and decided not to explain.

“You were asking me something,” I said once the waitress had left.

His phone rang before he could answer.

He glanced at the screen and answered briefly.

It was a short, clipped conversation, and I only caught one side of it.

He ended the call and set the phone down.

“She can't make the meeting,” he said.

I didn't ask who.

I already knew.

The waitress returned with our food a moment later, the timing oddly perfect, sliding two plates onto the table just as the silence threatened to stretch too long.

“So,” I said, looking at the food. “What are we going to do now?”

“Eat,” he said. “Then go.”

“Okay.”

I picked up my fork.

Started eating.

He watched me the entire time—not subtly, not pretending to look elsewhere, just watching with the same unreadable focus he applied to everything.

Under normal circumstances, it might have made me self-conscious.

Right now, I barely noticed.

I was too exhausted.

I had barely eaten three spoonfuls when my stomach turned.

Hard.

Fast.

No warning at all.

I stood up so quickly my chair scraped against the floor.

I hurried to the bathroom with seconds to spare.

Both hands braced against the sink, I closed my eyes and breathed through the wave until it finally passed.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I looked pale.

Tired.

I rinsed my mouth and slowly opened the bathroom door.

ETHAN

I stood outside the bathroom door and waited.

I had tasted the food myself when she stood up—checked it almost instinctively—and it was fine.

Properly cooked.

Nothing wrong with it that should have caused that kind of reaction.

The door opened.

Sofia stepped out.

She looked pale.

Unsteady.

“I'm sorry,” she said. Her voice was thin. “I think I need to leave.”

She took one step toward the table to grab her bag.

Then another.

And suddenly, she went down.

I caught her before my brain had fully processed what was happening.

“Sofia.”

No response.

I called her name again.

Nothing.

I lifted her into my arms.

People turned to watch as I carried her through the restaurant.

Daniel was already moving toward the car before I'd said a word, opening the door the moment he saw us coming.

“Hospital,” I said.

Daniel nodded.

“Now.”

I sat beside Sofia in the back seat while Daniel drove.

She remained unconscious.

I looked down at her face.

For the first time, I had no idea what was happening to her.

And I didn't like that feeling.

The hospital waiting room was quiet.

I sat there with my hands clasped between my knees, staring at the door where they had taken Sofia.

After what felt like forever, the doctor finally walked toward me with a chart in her hands.

Her expression was careful.

“Mr. Cole?”

I stood immediately.

“Is she alright?”

“She is stable. She's resting.”

I breathed out slowly.

The doctor sat across from me.

“She is severely exhausted. Her body has been under significant strain for some time—work stress, poor sleep, irregular eating.”

She paused.

Looked at me carefully.

“Combined with her pregnancy.”

I froze.

“My what?”

“Her pregnancy,” the doctor repeated. “She's pregnant.”

For a moment, I couldn't speak.

Pregnant.

The word seemed to settle somewhere in my chest with a weight I had absolutely no preparation for.

I stared at the doctor.

“She needs rest,” she continued. “Real rest. If she continues at this pace, there is a real risk of miscarriage.”

I sat there silently.

Pregnancy.

I thought about every time I'd seen Sofia looking exhausted.

Every time she'd seemed distracted.

Every time she'd pushed herself through work without saying anything.

And I had never once considered this.

The doctor looked toward Sofia's room.

“She'll need to see her own physician for ongoing care. For tonight, she needs to rest.”

I nodded slowly.

“Do you know if there's anyone we should call?”

I looked toward the room where Sofia was resting.

yes thank you

Daniel

I turned to him

“Yes sir?

I glanced at Sofia's belongings.

“Use her phone.”

Daniel picked it up.

He unlocked it and looked through her contacts.

After a few seconds, he stopped.

“There's a Claire here.”

I looked at him.

“Call her.”

Daniel nodded and stepped away.

I watched him make the call.

It rang twice.

Then someone answered.

“Hello?”

“Is this Claire?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“My name is Daniel. I'm Mr. Cole's assistant. I'm calling from Sofia's phone.”

There was a brief silence.

“Where is Sofia?”

“She is at the hospital.”

“What?”

“She became unconscious earlier tonight. She's stable, but she's being monitored.”

“I'll come right away. Which hospital?”

Daniel gave her the hospital name and location.

After a few more words, he ended the call and walked back toward us.

“She'll be here soon.”

I nodded.

Then I looked toward the door of Sofia's room again.

Pregnant.

The word still hadn't settled properly in my mind.

And now there was another question I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Who was the father?