Fiona didn’t make it past the lobby doors.
The mont she stepped out of the revolving glass and the cold evening air hit her face, the weight she’d been carrying all day finally cracked her open. Her knees buckled. She caught herself on the railing outside the Spire, breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Rain had started again light, misting, clinging to her hair and lashes. She didn’t care. She just stood there, trembling, trying to rember how lungs were supposed to work.
Katherine Thorne.
The na kept stabbing her every ti she blinked.
Platinum hair. Red lips. That dress. The way she’d kissed Martin’s cheek like it was her right. The way he’d let her.
And the way Fiona had stood across the lobby like a ghost no one could see.
She pulled out her phone with shaking fingers. Opened Lena’s contact. Pressed call before she could talk herself out of it.
Lena answered on the second ring.
"Hey, babe wait, are you crying?"
Fiona tried to speak. Couldn’t. A sob broke free instead.
"Fiona? Where are you?"
"Outside... the Spire," she managed. "I can’t... I can’t go ho."
Lena’s voice shifted instantly soft, fierce, no questions asked.
"Stay right there. I’m coming to get you. Don’t move. Don’t think. Just breathe. Okay?"
Fiona nodded even though Lena couldn’t see her.
"Okay."
Twenty minutes later Lena’s beat-up hatchback pulled up to the curb. She leaned across the passenger seat, pushed the door open.
"Get in."
Fiona climbed inside wet coat, wet hair, wet cheeks. Lena didn’t say a word. Just cranked the heat, pulled away from the curb, and drove.
The apartnt was only ten minutes away, but it felt like hours. Lena kept the radio low so soft indie playlist Fiona didn’t recognize. She didn’t push. Didn’t pry. Just let Fiona exist in the passenger seat, staring out at the rain-sared city lights, tears slipping silently down her face.
When they reached Lena’s building, Lena parked crooked, killed the engine, turned to her.
"You don’t have to talk yet. But when you’re ready, I’m here."
Fiona nodded.
They climbed the stairs in silence. Lena unlocked the door. The apartnt slled like vanilla candles and fresh laundry safe, warm, lived-in. Lena flicked on the lamp, kicked off her boots, pointed to the couch.
"Sit. Blanket’s already there. I’m getting tea. And tissues. And ice cream. Don’t argue."
Fiona sank onto the couch. Pulled the throw blanket around her shoulders. Buried her face in her hands.
Lena returned with two mugs of ginger tea, a box of tissues, and a pint of cookie dough ice cream with two spoons.
She sat beside Fiona. Close enough to touch, far enough to give space.
Fiona took the tea with trembling fingers. Sipped. The heat burned her throat in a good way.
Then the dam broke.
"I saw her," she whispered. "Katherine Thorne. His fiancée."
Lena’s eyes widened, but she stayed quiet. Let Fiona talk.
"She was... perfect. On his arm. Laughing. Kissing his cheek. And he just... let her. Like it was normal. Like yesterday never happened. Like the elevator never happened."
Her voice cracked.
"I was going to tell him today. About the baby. I had the email ready. I was going to walk into his office and say *I’m pregnant. It’s yours.* And then I saw her. Saw how she fit. Saw how everyone looked at them like they were inevitable. And I just... I couldn’t breathe."
Tears ca faster now.
"I feel so stupid, Lena. So fucking stupid. I had a one-night stand with a stranger. I let him fuck in front of mirrors. I let him make co so hard I forgot my own na. And then I ran. Like a coward. And now I’m pregnant with his baby, working for him, and he has a fiancée who looks like she was born to be on his arm."
Lena set her mug down. Pulled Fiona into her arms.
"You’re not stupid," she said fiercely. "You’re human. You were hurt. You were trying to feel sothing. Anything. And you did. You felt alive for one night. That’s not stupid. That’s brave."
Fiona sobbed against her shoulder.
"But now he has her. And I have... this." She pressed her hand to her stomach. "I don’t know how to tell him. I don’t know if I even should. What if he thinks I’m trapping him? What if he looks at the way Marcus looked at when he left? Like I’m not enough?"
Lena pulled back, cupped Fiona’s face.
"Listen to . You are enough. You are more than enough. That baby is proof of that. And Martin? If he can’t see what he has standing right in front of him if he can’t see you then he doesn’t deserve you. Or her."
Fiona’s tears slowed.
"I quit thinking about quitting," she whispered. "I thought maybe I could just... leave. Start over sowhere else. But then I saw her today. And I realized... I can’t run. Not again. Not with her inside ."
Lena nodded.
"Then don’t run. Stay. Fight for your place. Not for him for you. For the baby. For the life you’re building."
Fiona rested her head on Lena’s shoulder again.
"I don’t know how."
"You will," Lena said. "One day at a ti. One breath at a ti. And when you’re ready to tell him... I’ll be there. I’ll hold your hand. I’ll curse him out if he’s an asshole. Whatever you need."
Fiona laughed wet, broken, but real.
"Thank you."
Lena kissed the top of her head.
"Always."
They sat like that for a long ti rain tapping the window, ice cream lting on the coffee table, quiet music playing from Lena’s phone.
Fiona cried again quieter this ti.
Lena held her.
No judgnt.
No fixing.
Just presence.
When Fiona finally drifted off on the couch—blanket tucked around her, Lena’s hand resting lightly on her belly.She caressed it .
Like a promise.
Like a reminder.
That tomorrow would co.
That she wasn’t alone.
That she could survive this.
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