CLAIRE
I’d never liked Andrew.
He was sharp-dressed and sharp-tongued, always so certain the world owed him something. Entitled. Selfish. The kind of man who mistook charm for character.
But Sofie loved him. And that was the only thing that ever mattered to me.
So I smiled when she talked about him. I helped her plan this wedding. I told myself he’d grow into the love she gave him.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
The satin of my rose-colored dress whispered with every step as I rushed through the church corridor.
Cool air swept through the hallway and slid along the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my arms tighter around myself, but it didn’t help.
The cold wasn’t what unsettled me.
Please let him just be running late.
Sofie’s nervous energy still clung to me like static. I tried to shake it, but it settled in deeper with every step.
She’d kept smoothing the skirt of her dress, like it could hide how hard her hands were shaking. Still, her eyes sparkled. Hopeful. Certain. As if nothing could go wrong.
The groom’s suite was empty.
My breath caught.
Once.
Then again, harder.
No. No. No. Where is he?
Outside the stained-glass windows, dark clouds pressed low against the city. Rain tapped steadily against the glass, soft but relentless.
Ten minutes left.
Then I saw Mark.
He stood near the church entrance, phone pressed tight to his ear. His knuckles had gone white. His shoulders were hunched like he was absorbing a blow that hadn’t fully landed.
I moved toward him.
Two steps.
That was all it took before I heard Andrew’s voice.
“I told you—I can’t do it!”
His voice burst through the speaker, too loud, too raw. The hallway spun. I stopped mid-step.
Mark was angled away, the phone still pressed to his ear, like he could somehow block the words from reaching me.
But they already had.
“You should’ve told her,” he snapped. “You should’ve said you don’t love her. That there’s someone else.”
Everything narrowed. The corridor. The church. My breath.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. My legs felt numb. Cold bloomed in my chest.
“You can’t do this now,” Mark said. His voice broke, louder this time. “She’s waiting for you.”
“I’m not going out there, Mark! I can’t face her!” Andrew’s voice cracked. “You tell her.”
Then the call ended.
Silence closed in around us, thick and final.
Mark didn’t move. He stared at the phone like it still had something left to say.
Then slowly, he lowered it to his side. When he turned to me, I saw the truth written across every part of his face.
And I knew.
I knew before he said a word. I knew by the way his expression unraveled, by the way his mouth opened but no sound came.
A sob ripped from my throat. My hand shot up to cover it, but it was no use. The sound broke free anyway, sharp and uncontrollable.
“No. Please no.” I stumbled toward him. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is. Tell me this isn’t happening. How am I supposed to tell Sofie?”
He caught me as I collapsed into him.
My body folded against his, trembling. I clung to his jacket, my fists gripping the fabric like it might hold me up. My sobs came hard and fast. I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t breathe around them.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “This is... it’s cruel. She’s going to need you, especially now. I’ll handle the guests. You go to her.”
I nodded through the tears.
“You’re too good a friend for someone like him.”
He didn’t respond. Just held me closer.
His arms around me were the only thing keeping the ground beneath me.
Mark pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine.
"Claire, are you sure you can do this?"
I nodded, but my throat felt tight.
"I have to."
There was a pause, thick and breathless.
"She loves you, you know," he said quietly. "She’ll listen to you, even when it hurts."
That only made it worse.
The idea that Sofie trusted me enough to be the one who brought her heartache, that she’d hear the truth first in my voice, cracked something deeper.
“I don’t want to be the person who rips her world apart.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off my cheek in a gesture so gentle it nearly undid me all over again.
“You’re not. Andrew did that. You’re just the one brave enough to stand in the wreckage with her.”
A fresh wave of tears threatened, but I forced myself to hold the line.
“I keep thinking of her as a little girl,” I whispered. “With those big eyes and all that hope. She’s always believed in forever. In love that lasts.”
Mark nodded, his expression tight.
“She deserves forever.”
I pulled in a shaky breath.
“She built a future with him, every detail and every dream carefully imagined. And now I have to tell her none of it’s real.”
“You’re not taking away her future,” he said. “You’re saving her from a man who never planned to be in it.”
I pressed my forehead briefly against his chest, drawing strength from his calm.
Then I stepped back.
The weight of the moment settled over me again.
I squared my shoulders.
“She’s waiting.”
Mark gave a tight nod and squeezed my shoulder.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.
The silence between us said it all.
Each step back down the outdoor corridor dragged like cement.
My legs felt heavy. My lungs, hollow.
The sky had turned the color of bruised lavender. Thunder rolled in the distance, low and threatening, as if the storm itself grieved with us.
Be strong for Sofie.
I passed the floral arrangements. The polished pews.
The cello’s sorrowful hum curled with the rain’s quiet drumming. A duet of grief.
And I walked straight into it, toward the girl who still believed today was the start of forever.
All of it still pretending a wedding was about to happen.
But the truth was already unraveling.
The groom hadn’t just gotten cold feet.
He hadn’t even shown up.
He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t ask for time. He didn’t even have the decency to end things himself.
He handed his silence over like a knife and left me to do the cutting.
And the bride, the woman who would’ve walked through fire for him, had no idea the love she believed in had already betrayed her.
How do you tell someone their future just vanished?
I wanted to lie. I wanted to say everything was fine, that Andrew was waiting, that this was just one last bridal delay.
But the words would never come, because they held no truth.
Her entire life was about to fall apart.
I paused outside the bridal suite.
My fingers hovered over the doorknob.
I took a breath. Then another.
You can’t fall apart. Not now.
I wiped away my tears.
And I opened the door.
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SOFIEA sharp, primal pressure built inside me."I need to push now!" I cried, panic threading through my voice.The nurse burst through the door, her movements fast but calm. She checked between my legs with practiced efficiency."Okay, you’re fully dilated. It’s time to start pushing. Dr. Thompson is on her way."I could barely nod. My body had already taken over.Two hours blurred into a haze of pain, sweat, and effort. My fingers crushed Alex’s hand as I bore down, my whole being straining against the pain."I can’t," I gasped, tears streaming down my temples, my hair plastered to my face, every muscle shaking."Yes, you can," Alex said firmly, his voice steady, the only anchor in the room. "You’re the strongest person I know. You can do this."Dr. Thompson appeared at the foot of the bed like a calm in the storm."Alright, Sofie, let’s meet your baby," she said gently.I clenched my jaw, gathered every last ounce of strength, and pushed one final time.A blinding wave of sensation
SOFIEAlex and I strolled down the bustling streets of New York City, our breaths curling in the frigid February air. My belly had grown so round, it pulled at my balance a little more each day, so I clutched his arm, not just for warmth, but for steady support.We passed the same shops and cafes we'd wandered by a hundred times, their windows fogged and cozy behind the glass. Snow crunched beneath our boots, the sound oddly soothing, like the city hummed a soft winter lullaby.Conversation flowed between us, easy and full of warmth, weaving from baby names to shared hopes for parenthood.With every step, I felt it: that strange, wonderful blend of peace and anticipation. The city’s constant energy didn’t overwhelm me like it used to. Today, it felt like a protective hum, wrapping around us.Home was close, just a few blocks more, but I didn’t want the walk to end. Not yet.Inside, Alex helped me out of my coat, then crouched to tug off my boots, his hands gentle, his brow furrowed i
ALEXThe next morning, I sat behind my desk, fingers tapping against the glass in a rhythm that did nothing to soothe the pressure coiling in my chest. Stephen stood across from me, hands in his pockets, concern written all over his face.“How’s Claire?” I asked, leaning forward, my voice lower than usual, strained with the worry I hadn’t let myself show the night before.“She’s holding up,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bruised cheek, sprained hand. She’s strong, but... there’s still fear in her eyes.”I nodded, jaw tight.The air between us thickened, the conversation shifting from personal to business. I adjusted, my tone hardening.“I need the full scope. What are we looking at in terms of charges against Andrew?”Stephen pulled a folded document from the file tucked beneath his arm and laid it on my desk.“Multiple charges: assault, harassment, public endangerment. If he’s convicted on all counts, he’s looking at serious jail time. The fines won’t be small either. Bail’s
CLAIREStephen’s sleek sports car coasted into the parking garage like it belonged there. I glanced up at the towering buildings, glass windows glinting with city light, stars caught in steel.As he parked and cut the engine, I glanced at him with a crooked smile.“Don’t tell me you live in the penthouse.”He laughed, warm and unbothered. “No, just a two-bedroom apartment.”I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.“Good. Penthouses aren’t exactly my scene.”I laughed lightly, trying to shake shaky nerves that crept in the moment we hit the private garage.God, what am I doing here?We stepped out. The hush of wealth settled around us like silk.The elevator arrived with a soft chime. He pressed for the fourteenth floor. The ride up was smooth and silent, just enough time for my anxiety to climb.Then the doors slid open.Marble floors. Tall ceilings. A corridor gleaming under soft lighting, like a hotel ad. He unlocked the door and motioned for me to go in first.The second I
SOFIEThe ER room was too bright. Too cold. Too loud. Too much.I sat beside Claire, trying to hold still, but my leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. Fluorescent light glared off white walls, making everything feel sharper, air itself edged with tension. Claire’s hand gripped mine like a lifeline. Her cheek glowed in deep purple, and her right hand swelled twice its normal size.But somehow, she smiled through it.That Claire kind of smile. Brave. Stubborn. Stupidly strong.“Why did you step in?” My voice cracked. “You didn’t have to do that.”She squeezed my fingers gently. “I wasn’t going to let that asshole hit you. Besides,” she added with a shrug, “I can take a hit.”That broke me.Tears burned down my face, hot and relentless. “But you’re hurt because of me.”“Hey.” Her tone firmed. “I love you, SoSo. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”Before I could respond, the doors burst open. Alex and Stephen rushed in, eyes wild and searching.Everything after that blurred.Too fast. Too loud. Too m
SOFIEMorning light poured through the penthouse windows, golden and warm as it spilled across the living room floor. I curled into the corner of the couch, a steaming cup of herbal tea cradled in my hands. The scent, peppermint and something floral, wrapped around me. My other hand rested over the curve of my belly, instinctive and gentle.Four weeks since Texas.It felt like we’d only just gotten back, and yet... everything was already shifting. Slowing. Settling.I looked down at my stomach, watching the subtle rise and fall beneath the fabric of my robe. The baby was growing. And so was the weight of what that meant. Today was our ultrasound. Today, we might find out.Boy or girl. Our future, suddenly with a name. A shape. A face.A thrill rushed through me, a little bolt of nervous energy. I took another sip of tea, letting the heat calm the trembling building in my chest as my mind wandered.I could almost picture the baby already: tiny fingers, sleepy yawns. A little life, not