18 Two weeks after the divorce, I was finally settling into my new apartment and a new routine. I'd thrown mysel into work, taking on more projects than was strictly sensible, staying at the studio until late every night. Victoria had started giving me concerned looks, but she knew me well enough not to push. Lucas and I hadn't spoken since that final text exchange the night of our divorce. I'd seen his name in the business section of the newspaper-Bailey Enterprises acquiring a tech startup, expanding into new markets stock prices climbing under his leadership. He was thriving professionally, at least. I told myself I was glad for him. That this was what we both wanted-freedom to pursue our separate paths without the complications of a marriage neither of us had chosen. But on a rainy Saturday afternoon, as I was unpacking the last of my boxes, I came across something that stopped me in my tracks-a faded blue ribbon with a small gold medal attached. The Westlake Prep Mathematics Competition, Senior Division, First Place. I sank onto the edge of my new sofa, turning the medal over in my hands, memories washing over me in vivic detail. It had been spring of our junior year. Lucas and I had been partnered for the regional math competition-not by choice, but by our teacher's assignment. I was known for my methodical approach, Lucas for his intuitive leaps of logic. Together, we were formidable. "We're going to destroy them," Lucas had said with characteristic confidence as we prepared in the library after school. "Princeton Academy doesn't stand a chance." I'd been more reserved. "They've won three years running. We shouldn't underestimate them." Lucas had looked up from his textbook, his gaze intense. "Do you trust me, Shepherd?" It was the first time he'd addressed me directly by name, rather than the obligatory exchanges of lab partners Something about the way he said it-half challenge, half genuine question-had made my heart skip. 'I trust your mathematical abilities," I'd replied cautiously. He'd laughed then, a real laugh that transformed his usually serious face. "Good enough. Together, we've got And we did. During the competition, we moved in perfect sync-1 handled the systematic approach to each problem, while Lucas found the elegant shortcuts that saved precious time. When the final results were announced, Westlake Prep had taken first place for the first time in years. In the euphoria of victory, Lucas had lifted me off my feet in an impulsive hug, spinning me around while our classmates cheered. It was the first time I'd been held in his arms-the first time I'd felt the strength in them, smelled the clean scent of his skin up close. 'We did it, Autumn!" he'd exclaimed, using my first name for the first time. sent a thrill through me that had nothing to do with our victory. 'ne sound of it in his voice had After he set me down, blushing slightly at his own exuberance, he'd insisted I keep the medal. "You earned his more than I did," he'd said, pressing it into my palm and closing my fingers around it. 'It was a team effort," I'd protested. His smile had been softer then, almost shy. "Then keep it to remember that sometimes, the right partnership makes all the difference." hadn't known then that those words would prove prophetic in ways neither of us could have imagined. After the math competition, something had shifted between us. We weren't exactly friends-Lucas Bailey didn't really have friends, just admirers and competitors-but we had a connection. He'd nod to me in the hallways, save me a seat in calculus class, defend me when whispers about my background grew too loud. And then came the Winter Formal our senior year. The student council, desperate to increase attendance at what was typically a lackluster event, had decided o make it a New Year's celebration instead, complete with a formal countdown. Lucas and I, as the school's academic stars, had somehow been roped into hosting the event together. This is ridiculous," Lucas had complained as we prepared backstage, adjusting his tie for the third time. "I'm à mathematician, not an entertainer." 'd laughed, smoothing down my simple blue dress. "Think of it as another competition. We just have to be better hosts than anyone expects." He'd given me a considering look, then nodded decisively. "Fine. Let's give them a show." To everyone's surprise-perhaps especially our own-we were good at it. Lucas's natural authority commanded attention, while my organizational skills kept the evening running smoothly. By the time midnigh approached, the traditionally boring formal had transformed into something magical. As we led the countdown together on stage, surrounded by our classmates, Lucas had leaned close to me, his breath warm against my ear. To everything going smoothly," he'd whispered, his traditional good luck phrase before any competition or est. Without thinking, I'd replied, "To walking the path together." His eyes had widened slightly, something unreadable flashing in their depths. Then the countdown hit zero, cheers erupted around us, and the moment was gone. But I never forgot it-that brief connection, the way he'd looked at me as if seeing me clearly for the first time. Now, sitting in my empty apartment with the medal clutched in my hand, the contrast between then and now was almost unbearable. We'd gone from reluctant partners to unlikely friends to strangers again. Then to Chapter 18 High School Memories husband and wife, roommates, something almost like lovers, and finally, back to strangers once more. The circle had closed, leaving me with nothing but memories and a faded blue ribbon. My phone rang, startling me from my reverie. Victoria's name flashed on the screen. "Hey, Vic," I answered, trying to sound normal despite the lump in my throat. "Where are you?" she demanded without preamble. "You were supposed to meet me and Nathan at Vincenzo's half an hour ago." I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers to my forehead. The dinner with Victoria and her fiancé-I'd completely forgotten. "I'm so sorry," I said. "I got caught up unpacking and lost track of time." Victoria sighed. "This is the third time you've balled on plans since the divorce, Autumn. I'm starting to worry about you." "I'm fine," I insisted, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears. "Really. Just adjusting to the new normal." 'By becoming a hermit?" Her tone softened. "Look, I know it's hard. But you can't just shut yourself away." I looked down at the medal still clutched in my hand, at the memory it represented of a time when Lucas and had been in perfect sync, working toward a common goal. 'I'll make it up to you," I promised. "Brunch tomorrow?" Victoria agreed, extracting a solemn vow that I wouldn't bail again, and we hung up. I set the phone down and carefully placed the medal in my jewelry box, tucking it safely away with the other mementos of a past I couldn't seem to let go of. As I closed the lid, my stomach lurched suddenly, a wave of nausea washing over me so intensely that I barely made it to the bathroom in time. I knelt on the cold tile floor, retching miserably until there was nothing eft. Shakily, I rinsed my mouth and splashed cold water on my face, assuming I'd caught some kind of stomach bug. It was only as I straightened and caught sight of myself in the mirror-pale, with dark circles under my eyes-that another possibility occurred to me. When was my last period? counted back mentally, then counted again, a cold knot of realization forming in my stomach. Six weeks. It had been six weeks. No," I whispered to my reflection. "It's not possible." But even as I said the words, I knew they weren't true. Of course it was possible. Lucas and I had been caught up in the moment, in the emotions of what we believed would be our last night together. Protection had been he last thing on either of our minds. sank down onto the edge of the bathtub, my mind racing. It could still be stress, I reasoned. The divorce, the nove, the overwork-any of those could throw off my cycle. But the nausea... and the fatigue I'd been attributing to emotional exhaustion... and the tenderness in my ›reasts that I'd barely registered until this moment... Oh God," I murmured, burying my face in my hands. "Not now. Not like this." needed to know for sure. Grabbing my purse and keys, I hurried out to the nearest pharmacy, purchasing hree different pregnancy tests and ignoring the knowing look from the cashier. Back in my apartment, I followed the instructions with trembling hands, then sat on the edge of the bathtub gain, waiting the required three minutes while my entire future hung in the balance. When the timer on my phone chimed, I took a deep breath and looked down at the first test. wo pink lines. Unmistakable. he second test showed a clear plus sign. The third, digital test spelled it out in no uncertain terms: "Pregnant." stared at the tests lined up on the bathroom counter, my mind struggling to process the reality they epresented. I was pregnant. With Lucas's child. After we'd signed divorce papers. After we'd agreed to go our eparate ways. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. The universe, it seemed, had a twisted sense of humor. slid down to sit on the bathroom floor, my back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub, and wrapped my irms around my still-flat stomach. Inside me grew a new life-a combination of Lucas and myself, created on I night when barriers had fallen and truth had finally been spoken. But what now? What did this mean for the careful separation we'd negotiated, for the new lives we were trying o build apart from each other? And most importantly: should I tell Lucas? The question echoed in my mind as I sat there on the cold tile floor, surrounded by the evidence of a future I'd ever anticipated. 212