Sasha, sensing the silence, leans forward, her voice soft but insistent. “Noelle? What—what do you feel? What do you want to do?”
I can’t answer at first. My mind is spinning, thoughts colliding. I think of Niko—his calm strength, the way he holds me, how he’s always promised to protect me. And somehow, in that moment, a wave of warmth washes over me. Despite everything—the fear, the danger, the chaos—I feel…happy. Truly happy.
“I….” I trail off, the words catching in my throat. I look down at the test again, letting the reality settle in. My fingers clutch the edge of the counter, and a small laugh escapes me before I realize it. It’s nervous, it’s excited, it’s incredulous. “I’m…really happy.”
Sasha’s eyes light up, and she reaches out to squeeze my hand. “See? That’s what matters. How you feel. This…this is a good thing, Noelle.”
Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but they’re not entirely sad. They’re relief, joy, hope—the first real hope I’ve let myself feel in a long time. “I just…I can’t believe it. But I think…I think I want this. I want this baby.”
Sasha smiles, her grip firm and comforting. “Then that’s exactly what matters. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone.”
I lean back against the counter, letting her presence ground me. For the first time in months, maybe years, I let myself imagine the future—not just surviving, not just hiding, but building something. Something soft, something real. Something with Niko.
After the initial shock and excitement of the positive test settles, Sasha suggests we make the most of the day. “Come on,” she says, tugging me toward the kitchen. “We need to eat something. You’re too jumpy to just sit around.”
I laugh, the sound light and unburdened, and follow her. She surveys the kitchen like a general planning an operation. “Pasta? Or pancakes?”
“Both,” I say impulsively. “Why not?”
We spend the next hour cooking together, laughing at our clumsy attempts to juggle multiple dishes at once. Sasha insists on stirring the sauce while I chop vegetables, but every time I reach for a spoon, she swats my hand away. “Nope. You’ll ruin it,” she teases, and I huff a dramatic sigh, but secretly, I love this gentle bossiness.
By the time the food is ready, the kitchen smells like garlic and herbs, warm and comforting. We sit at the small dining table, plates steaming in front of us, and I realize how much I’ve missed having someone here—someone to share simple moments with.
After eating, we migrate to the couch, curling up under a blanket with the TV murmuring in the background. Sasha leans her head on my shoulder, and I rest mine against hers. We don’t need to talk much; the quiet companionship is enough. Every so often, she nudges me, grinning. “You’re glowing, Noelle. I’ve never seen you like this.”
I can’t help but smile, feeling the warmth spread through me. “It’s…a good kind of scared,” I admit softly. “But also…excited.”
Sasha nods knowingly, her hand brushing mine. “That’s exactly how it should feel. You’ve got this, and we’ve got this.”
Hours pass unnoticed as we eat, watch silly shows, and share stories. For the first time in so long, I feel grounded, safe, and cared for—like I can breathe again without the weight of fear pressing on me. And somewhere deep inside, I know that this small day of peace is just the beginning of something bigger.
“Sasha?” I touch her shoulder, my voice tentative.
She turns from the TV with a small frown. “Yes? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath, heart hammering in my chest. “I…I think I’ve fallen madly in love with Niko.”
Sasha bursts out laughing, and I can’t help but join in, my cheeks heating. “Girl, in case you didn’t know—I know. You are so obvious.”
We laugh together, the sound light and freeing. I squeeze her hand, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the room and everything to do with the truth finally out in the open. “I can’t help it,” I admit, my voice almost breathless. “Everything about him…it’s like I’m finally safe for the first time in my life. And now…now I think I want him to be the father of my child.”
Sasha shakes her head, grinning. “Well, he’s a damn lucky man.”
I bite my lip, glancing down at the blanket draped over our legs. “I just…I don’t want to scare him with this pregnancy thing. I want it to be perfect, but I don’t even know how to start.”
Sasha nudges me gently, eyes soft. “You start by trusting him. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He’s going to be thrilled.”
I nod, but my chest feels tight, tangled with worry and anticipation. She yawns and stretches on the rug. Within minutes, she’s fast asleep.
Once she drifts off, her breathing slow and steady beside me, I slip from the bed. My bare feet make no sound on the cool floor as I wander through the penthouse, drawn to Niko’s office.
The door is unlocked, so I slip in. The room smells of leather, ink, and a faint sharpness that is distinctly him. I pause at his desk, running my fingers lightly across the smooth surface, my hand lingering on the leather blotter. There’s a quiet intimacy in being here, in touching the things that are his.
Curiosity pulls me closer to the drawers. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t stop myself. I open the top one slowly, finding a neatly stacked set of folders, a leather-bound notebook resting on top. I pick it up, the weight in my hands grounding me even as my heart flutters.
Flipping through it, I see his meticulous handwriting—dates, names, locations, notes on people and operations. Some of it is mundane, reminders about meetings or security checks, but other notes are sharper, colder, threaded with danger. I swallow hard, realizing just how much he carries on his shoulders every single day, how much of his life is spent in a world I’m only partially glimpsing.
Closing the notebook gently, I lean back in the chair, letting the quiet of the office envelop me. My mind wanders, imagining him walking in, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face, holding me like I belong entirely to him. The thought makes me shiver, and a small, unbidden smile spreads across my lips.
