Chapter 3: Goodbye or Beginning?

The soft hum of the window rising was our cue—the world outside faded, leaving just us in our own little bubble.

With nobody else around, Evelyn said whatever he wanted.

He traced my cheek, voice light: “To satisfy my needs.”

He was joking, but there was always a little truth in there. He leaned in, breath warm on my skin.

Me: “...”

Classic Evelyn.

It was always like this when I traveled with him.

I ducked my head. “Oh, okay.”

My cheeks burned, but I couldn’t help smiling. He always got to me.

Wait, that’s not right.

I’m pregnant.

The realization hit me again, sharp and cold. I glanced at my stomach, then back at him.

I blurted, “Can’t you handle it yourself?”

The words tumbled out before I could stop them. I bit my lip, wishing I could take them back.

“No.”

He said it simple, final. He looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

My voice softened. “There are plenty of women who’d be happy to help you on a business trip. Why not find one of them…”

I trailed off, voice barely there. I didn’t mean it, but couldn’t help feeling insecure.

Before I could finish, Evelyn narrowed his eyes and pinched my chin.

His grip was gentle, but his eyes were ice. He leaned in, voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

He spoke slow, deliberately soft, sending chills up my spine.

“What did you just say, Maya? I didn’t quite catch that.”

His tone made my skin prickle. I swallowed, wishing I could disappear.

Good thing it was chilly and I had long sleeves—he couldn’t see the goosebumps.

I shook my head. “I didn’t say anything, really.”

I forced a smile, hoping he’d drop it. He watched me for a second, then finally let go of my chin.

I shut up and turned to the window, watching the city blur past.

So annoying.

Without realizing, I clenched my fists, my manicured nails digging crescents into my palm.

It stung a little, but it grounded me. At least I was still here—sort of.

It hurt a bit.

I didn’t want to go out.

I wanted to stay somewhere familiar.

I didn’t want to be stuck in a foreign country, surrounded by a language I couldn’t even begin to understand.

Just the thought of being so far from home, from everything safe, made my chest ache. I needed comfort, routine, something steady.

I didn’t want to hole up in some hotel, waiting for Evelyn to come back.

The idea of endless hours alone, surrounded by strangers, made me want to scream. I needed space to breathe, to think.

The city faded behind the moving car.

Today was overcast, sky a dull, washed-out gray.

Clouds hung low, pressing down. Everything felt muted, like the world was holding its breath.

The window reflected my face.

Twenty-five-year-old Maya Greene looked like a crumpled leaf stuck to a windshield.

My eyes were tired, skin pale. I barely recognized myself. I reached up, tracing my reflection on the glass.

Just a gust of wind, and she’d be gone.

Evelyn broke the silence.

He hugged me from the side.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. I melted into him, grateful for the warmth, even if it couldn’t fix everything.

“I was kidding. If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

His voice was soft, almost sheepish. I turned to look at him, searching for any sign of anger. There was none.

I blinked slowly.

Tears prickled, but I blinked them away. I didn’t want him to see how close I was to breaking.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, burying his face in my hair.

His breath was warm, his body solid against mine. For a second, I let myself believe everything might be okay.

“All your documents are at home. I just wanted you to see me off at the airport.”

He smiled, a little embarrassed. I realized he never meant to take me with him—just wanted a few more minutes together.

Only then did I remember I hadn’t brought my passport.

Relief washed over me, mixed with embarrassment. I should’ve known.

If Evelyn really wanted to take me, he’d have grabbed my bag.

He was always so thorough. The fact that he hadn’t meant everything.

His voice was muffled. “I don’t like the way you rush me out, and I didn’t like what you just said.”

His words stung, but there was a softness there, too. I nodded, not trusting myself to answer.

“Maya, be good. Listen.”

He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lips lingering. I closed my eyes, letting myself soak up the comfort, just for a second.

After he kissed me for what felt like forever, Evelyn finally let go.

His lips were warm, insistent. By the time he pulled away, I was breathless, heart pounding. I watched him go, wishing things could be different.

He got on the plane, I went home.

The cab ride back was quiet. I stared out the window, watching the city lights smear into gold and red. When I got home, the apartment felt empty, too still.

My fingers brushed my red lips.

The color lingered, a ghost of his touch. I smiled, just a little, then caught my reflection in the hallway mirror.

The person in the mirror looked flushed and alive.

For the first time in days, I looked awake. My cheeks were pink, eyes bright. I touched my face, half-expecting it to fade.

I touched my belly again.

It was still flat—way too soon for anything to show.

I pressed my palm to my stomach, imagining the tiny life growing inside. Would it have Evelyn’s eyes? My smile?

I honestly had no clue how to deal with Evelyn, or this kid.

The uncertainty gnawed at me, a constant ache. I paced the living room, trying to sort out my own mess.

Its parents weren’t married, its dad didn’t want it, and it showed up by accident.

I ran through every possible scenario, none of them good. I wanted to scream, to cry, to run away and never look back.

No matter how you spun it, it shouldn’t exist.

I sat on the bed, head in my hands. The weight of it all was crushing.

Its fate was supposed to be decided in a clinic, turned into medical waste and tossed.

The thought made me sick. I couldn’t imagine doing it, but I also couldn’t imagine bringing a child into this chaos.

But…

It was my kid.

That thought hit me hard. My kid. Mine.

I wanted to see it born.

The urge was fierce. I wanted to protect it, no matter what. I wiped my eyes, took a shaky breath, and made a decision.

I gathered my nerve, hesitated forever, and messaged Evelyn.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling. I typed and retyped, hunting for the right words.

[ I’ll tell you something when you get back. ]

I hit send before I could chicken out. My heart hammered as I stared at the screen, waiting for a reply that never came.

He was supposed to be gone for a week.

Seven days. It felt endless. I marked each one off, counting down to the moment of truth.

I had a week to get myself together.

Every day, I rehearsed what I’d say. I wrote lists, practiced in the mirror, imagined every outcome.

If Evelyn accepted the kid, we could get married and raise it together.

I let myself dream, just a little. A house, a yard, a family. The kind of life I always wanted.

If he didn’t, I’d leave and never show my face again.

The thought hurt, but I knew I could do it. I’d survived worse.

No matter what, I wanted to keep it.

I pressed a hand to my stomach, making a silent promise. I wouldn’t let anyone take this away.

On the third day of Evelyn’s trip, my head was still a mess.

I barely slept, tossing and turning, haunted by dreams of futures that would never be. I needed a break.

So I went shopping.

I pulled on my favorite jeans and a cozy sweater, grabbed my purse, and headed downtown. The crisp autumn air was a relief.

I tried on new fall arrivals in the fitting room.

The store was warm, salesgirls friendly. I let myself get lost in racks of clothes, soft music, the scent of new fabric. For a little while, I almost felt normal.

When I was younger, I used to love coming to this fancy store. Back then, I didn’t have much, so I’d look at everything, then finally buy just one thing.

I remembered those days, the thrill of choosing something special. It made me feel grown-up, in control.

Later, when Evelyn found out I liked it, he sent me gifts like clockwork, but I lost interest.

The packages would show up, perfectly wrapped, but it wasn’t the same. I missed picking things out for myself.

He realized I liked shopping for myself, so he stopped sending things and started going shopping with me, picking stuff out together.

Those afternoons were some of my favorites—just us, laughing and bickering over what looked best. It was the only time I felt really close to him.

Thinking of him, I zipped up and checked myself in the mirror. Suddenly, I heard voices outside the store.

Laughter drifted in from the hallway, sharp and familiar. I froze, listening.

By chance, they were talking about Evelyn Brooks.

...And about me.

“Speaking of the Greene family, Maya’s been with Evelyn for five years, right? Still hasn’t moved up?”

Their voices were loud, careless. I recognized one from a charity gala last spring. My stomach twisted.

“It’s not that easy to marry into money. When the Greene family hadn’t gone under, maybe she had a shot. Now she’s an orphan, both parents gone, totally dependent on Evelyn. Just for fun—no way she’s marrying in.”

Their words were brutal, but not new. I’d heard it all before. Still, it stung.

My fingers paused, and my reflection in the mirror blurred.

I blinked, trying to clear my eyes. No way was I giving them the satisfaction of seeing me upset.

The voices outside the fitting room kept going.

“That’s not necessarily true. I mean, if she just got pregnant, couldn’t she make Evelyn marry her? The Brooks family’s done it before.”

Pregnant?

My eyes drifted to the bag in the corner.

I’d been obsessed with this bag lately, always carrying it everywhere.

Inside was my last pregnancy test report.

I could feel the weight of it, pressing against my side like a secret I couldn’t shake.

“Come on—I laughed, using a kid to move up, only you would think of that. It’s exactly because the Brooks family’s done it before that Evelyn can’t stand surprise kids.”

Their laughter was sharp, mean. I bit my lip, trying not to cry.

“That guy’s ruthless, he’s done all kinds of crazy things. If Maya tried that, isn’t she scared she’d end up with nothing?”

Someone outside gasped.

I pictured their faces, wide-eyed and scandalized. I wanted to scream, to tell them they didn’t know a thing about me or Evelyn.

Expressionless, I took off the dress and changed back into my own clothes.

I moved slow, folding the dress and setting it aside. My hands shook, but I forced myself to breathe.

The three women outside quickly changed the subject, and within two sentences they were talking about another store.

Their voices faded as they wandered off, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I pushed open the fitting room door and walked out.

I held my head high, refusing to let them see how much their words stung. The salesgirl smiled, but I barely noticed.

Their gossip cut off fast.

The silence was deafening. I could feel their eyes on me as I walked past.

“Maya? How long have you been here?”

One of them called out, voice tight with embarrassment. I didn’t bother answering.

I smiled a little. “Longer than you.”

My voice was calm, steady. I met their eyes, daring them to keep talking.

Without waiting for a reaction, I left.

I pushed open the heavy glass door and stepped into the crisp autumn air. The city felt bigger, colder than before.

I barely touched my lunch, then sat dazed on the porch swing.

The food sat untouched, growing cold. I wandered outside, wrapped in a blanket, letting the swing rock me back and forth.

Autumn had arrived, and the maple trees in the yard had left a thick layer of leaves on the ground.

The yard was carpeted in red and gold, the air sharp with woodsmoke. I closed my eyes, letting the breeze tangle my hair.

Evelyn FaceTimed me.

The ringtone startled me. I fumbled for my phone, heart pounding as his face filled the screen.

With a seven-hour time difference, it was sunrise on his side, the sky blazing red.

He looked tired, but happy. The light behind him made his hair glow. I smiled, despite myself.

He asked, “Did you go out today?”

His voice was warm, teasing. I could hear dishes clattering in the background, the faint hum of hotel traffic.

I was curious. “How did you know?”

I tried to sound casual, but I couldn’t hide my surprise. He always seemed to know what I was up to.

Evelyn’s eyes crinkled with a smile. “You weren’t wearing those pajamas yesterday. You only change pajamas after you’ve been out. Where’d you go? Did you have fun?”

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t help laughing.

“It was okay.”

I shrugged, trying to sound chill. I didn’t want him to know how much the day had gotten to me.

“If you didn’t enjoy it, don’t go out. Just rest at home. Babe, I’ll be back in four days. The thing you want to tell me, can’t you just say it now?”

His voice softened, almost pleading. I hesitated, not sure what to say.

I looked down. “No, I’ll tell you when you get back.”

I traced circles on the porch swing with my toe, avoiding his eyes. I wasn’t ready—not yet.

We chatted a bit, then he had to run and hung up.

His smile lingered on the screen after the call ended. I stared at the empty porch, feeling more alone than ever.

Listening to the busy tone, I had no clue what to do next.

I sat there for a long time, phone in my lap, watching the shadows creep across the yard.

When you’re idle, your mind wanders.

My thoughts spun in circles, tying themselves in knots. I couldn’t make them stop.

Like, I kept thinking about the gossip I heard outside the fitting room.

Their voices echoed in my head, sharp and mean. I tried to shake them off, but they stuck like burrs.

Evelyn and I aren’t married.

I’m pregnant.

He doesn’t want kids.

He’s ruthless.

...Will I end up with nothing?

The question haunted me, looping in my mind. I couldn’t escape it.

I jumped up.

The sudden movement startled the cat, who bolted off the porch. I barely noticed. My mind was racing.

Night had fallen over the horizon.

The sky was deep blue, stars just starting to show. I shivered, pulling the blanket tighter.

The sun had set.

The last rays slipped away, leaving the world in shadow. I felt small, lost.

I found a sticky note by the bed and scribbled a message.

My handwriting was messy, letters uneven. I pressed the pen hard, like that would make the words stick.

[ I don’t want to be your backup plan anymore. I want a real life. Thanks for everything you’ve given me all these years. ]

I stared at the note, reading it again and again. It felt like an ending, but also a beginning.

After writing it, I ordered a new phone and SIM card.

My hands shook as I typed in my address. I felt like a spy, plotting my own escape.

The next day, when the package arrived, I left my old phone—with the location tracking—at home.

I powered it down, left it on the nightstand, and slipped out the back door. My heart pounded as I walked away.

With just my ID, I left Evelyn’s house.

No suitcase, no keepsakes. Just my purse, my ID, and the pregnancy report folded in my pocket.

I didn’t want to wait for him to come back and talk things over.

I knew if I saw him, I’d lose my nerve. I had to go now, before I changed my mind.

I couldn’t afford to risk it.

My feet carried me down the driveway, out into the quiet dawn. I didn’t look back. I just kept walking, one step at a time, straight into whatever comes next.