Chapter 28 The Tokyo expansion had been greenlit. After months of negotiation, back-and-forth legal wrangling, late-night calls with board members and zoning consultants, my trip, it was done. A new international hub, a deal worth more money for the company than I knew what to do with, and the stamp of approval from every smug executive who'd said it was too ambitious. This was the kind of win that was supposed to feel like the world's sweetest victory. Instead, it felt like static. Congratulations rolled in. Clinking glasses and obligatory toasts with overpriced whiskey and champagne. I laughed where I needed to, nodded along to conversations I wasn't listening for, but I hadn't been present. Not really. I should have felt something - pride, relief, adrenaline, something. But all I felt was hollow. We ended up at one of those rooftop lounges in Midtown where everyone looked like they were trying too hard or too little. I'd been here before, knew the script, knew to smile at the right people and let others buy me drinks, knew to pretend I wasn't calculating which minute I could slip away without drawing attention so I could go home and crawl into Zach's bed with him like I'd found myself doing for the last few nights. Someone handed me a glass. Someone else clinked it against theirs. Across from me, one of the new hires to handle starting the expansion, a woman named Helena who seemed to be made of long legs and red lipstick, leaned in close to me. "You should be celebrating," she said, smiling up at me. "I am," I murmured, but I didn't believe it. Her hand brushed my forearm, light, deliberate. She wasn't subtle and I wasn't blind. Normally, I'd have leaned in, flirted back, let the game play out - but instead, I froze. The second she touched me, all I could see was Sienna. The way she looked when she was fighting back a smile. The way her lashes had fluttered when I woke her up gently on the flight home from Massachusetts, her voice thick with sleep and trust. Her hands curled over her stomach, her nose crinkling at something I'd said. Her laugh. Her presence. And I realized, too late and too deep, that I was in love with her. It sucked all of the air from the lungs the moment the realization hit. I pulled back, practically sucking in oxygen like I was suffocating, offering some half-formed apology that probably sounded like gibberish, and stepped outside without waiting for a response from her. The city sprawled out below me, glass, motion, and light, but none of it registered. I was still angry with her. Horribly, brokenly angry. But God, I fucking loved her, and she was pregnant with my kids and hormonal and struggling⁠- I shouldn't have broken it off. I could have walked out, taken time to come back, and walked into a new conversation with a clear head. But I hadn't. I slipped my phone from my jacket pocket. I needed to text her, or call, or something. I didn't know. I just needed her. But when I unlocked the screen, her name was already there. A text, timestamped ten minutes ago, sat unread on my screen. Sienna: I'm sorry. Can we please talk? I didn't answer her text. I didn't need to. Some things didn't deserve to be sorted through a screen, especially not after a week of silence and the mess Ryan had left in his wake. I left the lounge without a word to anyone, climbed into my car, and drove the entire way across the city with her messaging burning a hole in my goddamn chest. I wasn't wired to ignore her. Not when I couldn't fall asleep without her invading my dreams, not when I saw her face every time I closed my eyes, not when I fucking loved her. Throwing the car into park at an angle in her driveway, I left it running and took the stairs up to her door two at a time. My heart pounded erratically in my chest, not with anger-at least not entirely-but with something tighter and more desperate. I hadn't realized just how much I missed her until she opened the door. She looked tired, pale, her eyes squinting against the glare of my headlights. Her hair was thrown up in a bun, one of my sweaters hanging loosely around her shoulders but clinging to her stomach, which I swore had grown again, her breath stuttering as she looked up at me. "Sienna," I rasped, breathing a little heavy. "Get in the car." She blinked. "What?" "Shoes. Jacket. Let's go." "You didn't text me back." "No," I said, my jaw flexing. "I didn't." She took half a step back. "You're still mad." "Yeah," I admitted. "But that's not why I'm here. Just-just get in the car, sweetheart." "Is Zach okay⁠-" "He's fine, just please. Get in the car." Something in my voice must've cut through her hesitation. She slipped on her cardigan hanging by the door, shoved her feet into a pair of slides, and followed me without another word. The ride was silent. She didn't ask where we were going, didn't look at me, and I didn't offer her anything either. I didn't know how to, not with the way my stomach was coiled tight with what I needed to do. I parked across the street from Ryan's house, exhaling once, sharp, and heavy and stressed. She turned to me so slowly. "Matt⁠-" "You need to hear the truth," I said, pushing out of the car. I helped her out before crossing the road and climbing up the driveway of Ryan's small suburban home, two cars in the driveway, the porch light on. I didn't check if she was following - I could feel her behind me. Ryan opened the door with a scowl, his expression twisting into something smugger the second he saw Sienna standing behind me. He leaned against the door frame in his pajamas, crossing his arms like this was hilarious. "Welcome back, Sienna," he grinned. "Shut the fuck up," I breathed. "You're going to tell her the truth. Now." His brows rose dramatically. "Truth? I already told her the truth." "No. You spun some bullshit lie to get under her skin, and maybe that's what you do best, Ryan, but you don't get to twist Zach's life around like it's gossip. You don't get to use my son to win your petty little war of making her feel small and causing me as much fucking stress as possible." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Jesus, you're dramatic." "I'll release the rest of the assets if you just fucking tell her." He laughed - genuine, full-body laughter, and dragged his tongue over his teeth. "Damn, you're desperate." "Matt-" "No," I said to her over my shoulder, keeping my gaze locked on Ryan's. He glanced from her to me, sighing like this was exhausting for him despite causing it. "Fine," he huffed. "Zach's mom was some woman from Buckhead. One-night stand. Met at some business thing? I don't fucking know, Matt, I don't remember." My jaw ticked. "You didn't even talk to her again, right? And then boom, what, a year later? Some guy from child services showed up." I turned, slowly, to Sienna, watching as her eyes flicked between us. "Her name was Vanessa. We were never in a relationship, not even close. I barely remembered her name until the paperwork was handed to me." Her eyes widened, her mouth popping open. "She'd surrendered Zach under the Safe Haven Law," I said carefully. "She didn't leave any of his information, so it took them a little time to find out who he was. DFCS called me when he was about five months old, and I was given the option to step up or let him go into foster care. I didn't hesitate. I filed for custody immediately." She swallowed, her throat working, one hand on her stomach. "I fought for him. Raised him," I continued, keeping my voice as level as I could. "There was no cheating. No betrayal. Just me not letting him end up alone in the system." Ryan snorted behind me. "Well, that's your good deed for the decade." I glanced back at him. "You're lucky you're still standing." "Ooh, so scary, Matthew." Sienna wasn't looking at Ryan. She was looking directly at me, and I couldn't tell what was upsetting her more - the fact that she'd believed the lie, or that the truth was this instead. "Matt-" "You know, it tracks," Ryan said, pushing off the door frame. His lips curled with the same smug venom I'd known since we were kids, his gaze flicking to Sienna like she wasn't anything. "You, knocking up my ex. Giving me back the shit that's rightfully mine. Wouldn't be surprised if she ditches you, too." I shot him a glare. "Don't." "What? Zach's already half-fucked from all your trauma bonding - why not give him siblings to match?" The world went red. I didn't think, didn't speak. My fist cracked across his jaw so hard I felt the bones shift beneath my knuckles, heard the tell-tale crunch of something in my hand breaking. He stumbled back into the doorframe, swearing, a hint of blood on his teeth, clutching the side of his face like he hadn't thought I'd actually do it, like he didn't realize I'd wanted to for years. "You talk about her again, you even breathe something like that about my fucking kid, and I swear to God, Ryan, I will end you," I said, my voice eerily calm despite the words slipping through my teeth. "We're done. You're cut off. You can have what's left in your trust and survive on that, but I'm not funding you anymore." He laughed, but the sound was thin. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." I turned my back on him without another word. Sienna hadn't moved - she was still standing there frozen on the walkway, her eyes wide, one hand covering her mouth and the other resting on her stomach. "Matt," she breathed. "You just-you hit him." "Yeah," I swallowed, shaking my hand and wincing when I felt something inside rub the wrong way. "Felt good until the⁠-" Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. A sharp gasp. A strangled sound that didn't belong in her throat. Both hands clutched at her stomach. My fucking heart stopped. "Sienna?" She bent forward slightly, eyes squeezed shut, pain etched across her face, and no, no, no, no. She was only just over five months. "Ow-Matt-Matt, shit⁠-" Every last ounce of anger vanished. Fear took over.