Because without him, the world feels too big. Too cruel. Too empty.
And I don’t want to face it without him.
I stay curled on the bed, hugging the pillow, letting the tears run unchecked. Minutes stretch into hours—or is it only minutes? I have no sense of time anymore. The penthouse is silent except for the distant hum of the city outside and the occasional creak of the building settling. I try to will myself to focus, to do something productive, anything—but my mind keeps returning to Niko. Is he safe? Is he thinking of me? Does he know how much I…need him?
I rock myself gently, whispering his name under my breath. Each whisper feels like both a prayer and a confession. I feel the ache of wanting him, needing him, more than I thought possible. My thoughts spiral, circling back to every moment we’ve shared—the warmth of his arms, the way he holds me like I’m the only thing worth protecting in the world, the rare softness in his voice when he reassures me. And now he’s out there, facing Anton, and I’m here…alone.
I don’t even notice how long I’ve been like this, how long the tears have soaked into the pillow. Time has become meaningless, stretching and folding in on itself, with nothing to anchor me but the memory of him.
A sudden knock at the door jolts me from the haze. My pulse jumps, a flicker of hope and fear mixing together. I rush to open it, and I see Sasha, arms full of large grocery bags, her face lighting up as soon as she sees me.
“Noelle!” she exclaims, dropping the bags and running forward. Before I can think, she’s in my arms, and I let myself collapse into her embrace.
I cry harder, letting the sobs shake through me as she holds me tightly. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” she murmurs, stroking my hair and pressing her cheek against mine. Her warmth, her presence—it’s a lifeline, a tether back to the world.
For the first time since Niko left, I feel a flicker of calm. I don’t stop crying, but I let her carry some of the weight with me. She’s here. I’m not completely alone…but a small part of me aches, hollow and raw, for the one person I truly want beside me.
“You can tell me everything,” Sasha whispers softly, and I nod into her shoulder, clinging to the hope, the promise, the impossible comfort that maybe, just maybe, everything will be alright.
I pull Sasha inside and shut the door behind us, my hands trembling slightly as relief washes over me. For a moment, I just hold the door, leaning against it, trying to breathe.
“How did you even get here?” I ask, still catching my breath, my voice small.
Sasha gives me a quick, knowing smile. “Niko called me. Told me to come, make sure I got inside safely. He…he’s really serious about keeping you out of danger.” Her tone softens, and she glances at me, worry in her eyes.
I nod, unable to speak for a moment. The weight of his thoughtfulness hits me like a wave.
“And…you brought groceries?” I ask, glancing at the bags she’s carrying.
“Of course,” she says with a little laugh, setting them down carefully. “And I also have a pregnancy test…if you want to take it now.”
My heart skips. I stare at her for a beat. “Did Niko ask you for that, too?”
She nods. “He wants me to know what’s going on. He…he thinks it’s important.” Sasha reaches out and squeezes my hand. “Let’s get this done, and whatever the result, you’re not alone.”
I take a deep breath and tell Sasha, “I don’t want to delay it. Let’s just do this now.”
She nods, her eyes soft but steady. “Okay. I’m right here with you.”
We move into the bathroom, the small space suddenly feeling like the safest place in the world. I take the test from Sasha’s hands. She hovers nearby, her presence reassuring, but she gives me space.
I unzip my jacket, tug my jeans down just enough, and step up to the toilet. My hands shake slightly as I pull the test from its wrapper. Sasha leans against the sink, arms crossed, giving me an encouraging nod. “You’ve got this,” she says softly.
I position myself, and the test is in place. I close my eyes for a moment, letting out a shaky breath as the physical act, simple as it is, feels impossibly heavy.
The waiting begins. I sit on the closed toilet lid, hugging my knees, the pregnancy test resting on the counter in front of me. Sasha sits on the edge of the bathtub, just close enough that I can feel her warmth. Neither of us speaks, but there’s a comfort in the silence.
Seconds stretch into minutes. My heart hammers in my chest. I imagine Niko’s face, his calm, protective presence, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to steady the fluttering in my stomach. Sasha reaches over and gently squeezes my shoulder.
“Almost there,” she whispers. Her voice is quiet, kind.
I glance at the test. The seconds feel like hours. My breath catches. My hands tremble. The thought of what this could mean, of Niko’s reaction, of everything, spins in my head—but I know I’m not facing it alone.
Sasha hums softly, a grounding sound, and I let myself exhale, holding onto that moment of support before I finally check the result.
“It’s ready,” Sasha breaths.
I turn to the test, my breath caught in my throat. Positive. The word echoes in my mind like a drumbeat I wasn’t expecting. My heart hammers, a strange mix of disbelief and…something else.
