Chapter 3

Stella

I really hate being disturbed while working overtime, especially by this kind of self-important idiot who sneaks into someone's room and sleeps with them while they're drunk. So when I blocked that phone number, I didn't feel any better—if anything, I felt even more irritated.

I gathered the documents on my desk, shut down my computer, grabbed my coat, and left the office. The hallway lights had been dimmed after hours, and the entire floor was quiet like another world. I pressed the elevator button, watching the stainless steel doors reflect my image—ash-gray tailored suit, hair still pinned up, impeccable, except for the weariness in my eyes that hadn't been there during client meetings. I studied myself in the mirror and pulled out my car keys from my bag.

Too much had happened today. That phone call was just the most absurd of it all.

My phone buzzed in my bag. Thinking it was Leo, I pulled it out and saw it was Danny.

"Off work yet?" he asked, his voice carrying its usual easy warmth, like someone who never knew what serious business meant but always showed up in the right place when you needed him most.

Danny Rossi was someone I'd known since childhood, now Lumière's COO. He ran the company's operations more steadily than I did myself, one of the few people in this world I didn't have to second-guess.

"Just leaving," I said, draping my coat over my arm as I pushed through the building's revolving door.

"Perfect timing. I was thinking we could grab dinner, that new Italian place—"

"Danny," I cut him off, "I'm not feeling well lately. Another time."

"Not feeling well? What's wrong? Should I take you to see—"

"Just tired. I'll eat something and sleep it off. Don't make a fuss."

He paused for a second, then said, "Alright, get some rest. Remember to eat."

"I know," I said. "You too."

By the time I hung up, I'd already reached the parking garage. I twirled my car keys once, got in, tossed my bag onto the passenger seat, started the engine, and turned on the car stereo, adjusting the volume just loud enough to drown out the messy noise in my head.

When I got back to the apartment, Maya was sitting on the living room sofa with an open book in front of her, but she looked up immediately when I walked in, like a small animal that had been waiting for a sound.

"Stella, why are you home so late today?" she said, standing up to follow me. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes," I said, though I hadn't, but I didn't have the appetite to explain.

"I ran you a bath," Maya said. "In the tub, with that bath salt you like. Go soak for a bit—you don't look well."

I glanced at her, said nothing, just handed her my coat, changed into slippers, and headed for the bathroom.

The water temperature was perfect, the scent of bath salts dispersing faintly in the steam. I rested my head against the edge of the tub, closed my eyes, and felt the strength I'd been holding up all day begin to unravel, strand by strand.

The exhaustion was real, more tangible than any late-night overtime before—the kind of exhaustion that came from somewhere deeper, not just from today but from these past few weeks, constantly pressing down. I'd thought it was the company issues, the Red Hook Pier mess, the cash flow pressure, the endless stacking of to-do items.

Then I thought of that phone call again.

I hadn't forgotten about the reception that night—I just hadn't taken time to think about it. That evening I'd attended a reception. I hadn't drunk much, yet I felt terribly restless, heavy-headed and light-footed. I left early and returned to my room, closed the door thinking I'd lie down for a bit to sober up, but in that haze, someone entered my room.

The kissing, the sex—it all happened like something in a dream, the specific details even I couldn't remember clearly.

When I woke up, that person was already gone. The sheets were disheveled. I knew what had happened, and I knew I hadn't been in any state to stop anything. If the company hadn't been such a disaster lately, I swear I would have hired a lawyer to investigate this matter thoroughly.

I hadn't expected that person to emerge today on their own, claiming to be from the Ferretti family. His arrogant tone on the phone was as if the world owed him something, and he claimed—claimed that as a man he'd tested positive for pregnancy, asking if I'd taken any post-event measures.

I opened my eyes in the bathtub.

The steam turned the bathroom lights into a soft white blur. I stared at the ceiling, something in my mind suddenly tightening. I quickly calculated, counting forward from that night to today, then backward to my last period.

My period was ten days late.

No—thirteen days.

I stood up from the bathtub.

I put on the bathrobe hanging nearby, didn't even bother drying my hair, changed clothes, and came out of the bedroom. When I grabbed my car keys from the entryway cabinet, Maya poked her head out from the living room. "Stella? Where are you—"

"Going out for a bit," I said. "I'll be back soon."

I bought a pregnancy test, paid for it, and when I walked back to the parking garage, I sat in the car for half a minute before finally deciding to go to the office. The office was empty at this hour. I walked over, pushed open the door, sat in my chair, and took the pregnancy test out of its packaging.

The instructions were folded six layers thick, printed in three languages. I spread out the English page and placed it on the desk, studying it carefully under the light.

Two lines, pregnant. One line, not pregnant.

I went to the restroom.

When I came back, I placed the pregnancy test on the desk, looking at that tiny result window, taking a deep breath, then checking the result.

One dark, one faint. Two lines.

The dark one was darker than purple, the faint one so light I almost needed to hold it up to the light to see it clearly.

I turned the instructions over and read them again from the beginning, slowly, word by word. There was a small section about an extremely faint second line. I read that passage twice, processing every letter of the conclusion in my mind.

Very early stage.

A condition where the fertilized egg has recently implanted, HCG concentration is still low, therefore the color is lighter, but can already be interpreted as a positive result.

I was pregnant.