“I don’t want to pivot,” I admit. “
“I know. But you also don’t want to ignore your doctor and end up dealing with something worse.”
That, unfortunately, is true.
She gets that look she gets when she’s being sneaky. “I have something to show you.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It’s not,” she promises. “Just… trust me.”
I hesitate for a second. “Okay. What now?” Because at this point, I’m pretty sure my life is about to change again. And apparently, I don’t get a say in the timing.
She spins her laptop around, so I push myself upright and glance at the screen.
Another website.
For a second, my brain doesn’t fully process what I’m seeing. It looks similar to the fitness site she built, but the layout is softer. Calmer. Less… aggressive. Soft colors, simple design, a focus on breathing, movement, and something that looks suspiciously like meditation content.
“What is this?”
“A backup plan.”
I blink at her. “You built a backup plan?”
“I build a lot of things when I’m stressed,” she says casually. “This one just happens to be useful.”
I scroll slowly, taking it in. There are sections for guided breathing, low-impact movement, recovery routines, stress management. It’s not just thrown together either. It’s thoughtful. “How did you… Did you think something was going to go wrong?”
“Sage, come on. You know I love a good contingency plan. Hell, it’s why I date multiple people at a time.”
I keep scrolling, my initial resistance slowly giving way to something else. Something that feels a lot like relief, even if I don’t want to admit it out loud. “This is… actually really good.”
Leigh smiles a little. “You’re pregnant. Things can change quickly. I didn’t want you stuck if they did, and I needed it to look like a good fallback plan if you needed one.”
For a moment, I just look at her.
Because that’s the thing about Leigh. She doesn’t just react to problems. She gets ahead of them in a way that makes everything feel a little less overwhelming.
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
She shrugs like it’s nothing. “You’re not losing your career, Sage. You’re just… shifting lanes.”
“I hate shifting lanes.”
“I know. That’s why you get in the lane you need five miles before you’re turning. Even when someone is driving too slow ahead of you.” Her lips thin to a flat line.
“I like knowing where I’m going before I get there. Sue me.” I glance back at the screen, at the clean layout and the calm tone of everything she built.
Meditation. Breathing. Low-impact strength.
It’s not what I pictured for myself. But it’s not nothing.
“People would actually use this,” I admit.
“People will love this,” she corrects.
I huff out a small breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Maybe this isn’t the end of the world.”
