Chapter 80 The resolve II
"You're stronger than you think you are," Sarah said. "You survived your mom dying when you were young. You survived everything that Margot did to you. You survived a manipulative marriage to Rapheal. You're surviving all of this right now. That takes strength, Viv. Real strength."
"It doesn't feel like strength. It feels like just barely holding on."
"Sometimes that's what strength looks like," Sarah said. "Not some perfect version of yourself who has everything figured out. Just holding on when everything is falling apart. Just getting up every morning and putting one foot in front of the other even when you don't know where you're going."
We sat in silence again. I watched the children playing. Their laughter carried across the park, carefree and light. I wondered if my child would ever laugh like that. If I would be able to give them that kind of joy and safety and normalcy.
"What if I can't do it?" I asked quietly.
"What if I'm not enough?"
"Then you ask for help," Sarah said simply. "You let the people who love you support you. You don't have to do this alone, Viv. You never have to do this alone."
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw multiple missed calls from Monica. And a text message.
"Vivienne, I understand you're overwhelmed. But walking out in the middle of our discussion doesn't solve anything. We need to talk about your options and make a plan. Please call me when you're ready. I'm here to help you, not judge you."
I showed the message to Sarah.
"She's right," Sarah said. "Running away doesn't solve anything. Trust me, I know. I tried to run from my problems for years and it never worked."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"I stopped running. I faced things. I asked for help when I needed it. I let myself be vulnerable and admit I didn't have all the answers. And slowly, things got better. Not perfect. Not easy. But better."
I looked at Monica's message again. I'm here to help you, not judge you.
Maybe that was true. Maybe Monica really was on my side. Maybe Sarah was on my side. Maybe I didn't have to fight every battle alone.
I typed a response.
"I'm sorry for walking out. I'm scared and overwhelmed and I don't know what to do. Can we talk tomorrow? I need tonight to think about everything."
Monica's response came quickly.
"Of course. Take the time you need. Call me tomorrow and we'll figure this out together. You're not alone in this, Vivienne."
I put my phone away and looked at Sarah.
"What do I do about Raphael?" I asked. "Do I tell him about the baby?"
"I don't know," Sarah said honestly. "That's a decision only you can make. But whatever you decide, I'll support you."
I thought about Raphael. About the night we made this baby together. He had been charming and attentive. He had made me laugh. He had made me feel attractive, wanted and interesting.
"He's engaged to someone else," I said. "He's building a life with her. Starting a shipping empire merger. Why would he want to know about a baby with someone he described as a temporary connection?"
"Because it's his baby too," Sarah said. "Because he has a responsibility whether he wants it or not. Because keeping this secret might feel easier now, but secrets have a way of coming out eventually. And when they do, they tend to cause more damage than if you'd just been honest from the beginning."
She was probably right. But the thought of reaching out to Raphael, of being vulnerable to him, of potentially being rejected or dismissed again, made me feel physically ill.
"I can't think about this right now," I said. "I need to deal with one crisis at a time. First the divorce hearing next week. Then I'll figure out what to do about Raphael."
"Fair enough," Sarah said.
We sat in the park for another hour, just watching the world go by. The mothers eventually gathered their children and left. The lunch break crowd dispersed back to their offices. The park grew quieter as the afternoon wore on.
Finally Sarah said, "We should probably get home. You need to eat something. You're eating for two now, remember?"
The reminder sent a strange feeling through me. Eating for two. There was a whole other life depending on me now. A tiny cluster of cells that would eventually become a person who would need me to feed them and protect them and love them.
It was terrifying.
We walked back to Sarah's apartment slowly. My feet felt heavy, like each step required more effort than it should. Exhaustion was settling into my bones, the kind of deep tiredness that comes from carrying too much emotional weight for too long.
When we got back to the apartment, Sarah made dinner while I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling. She didn't try to make conversation or cheer me up. Just let me exist in my thoughts while she moved around the kitchen.
The smell of cooking made my stomach turn. Morning sickness, probably. Or just stress. It's hard to tell the difference anymore.
"I made soup," Sarah said eventually. "Something light. See if you can keep it down."
I sat up and took the bowl she offered. Chicken noodle soup. Simple and warm and comforting.
I managed a few spoonfuls before my phone rang again.
Unknown number.
I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.
"Hello?"
"Vivienne Moreau?" A man's voice. Unfamiliar.
"Yes?".
"This is James Cooper. I'm a reporter with the City Tribune. I'm writing a story about your divorce from Raphael Moreau and I was hoping to get a comment from you."
My blood ran cold.
"How did you get this number?"
"Public records. Listen, I've been following the case and I've seen the recent tabloid stories about you and Raphael Moreau. I wanted to give you a chance to tell your side of the story before we publish."
"I have no comment," I said.
"Are you aware that Raphael Moreau's legal team is claiming you married him under false pretenses? That you misrepresented yourself as someone interested in a genuine relationship when you were actually just looking for financial security?"
"That's not true," I said before I could stop myself.
"So you're denying that you married Mr. Moreau primarily for financial reasons?"
Shit. I had just given him a quote. This was exactly what Monica would have told me not to do.
"I have no further comment. Please don't call this number again."
I hung up and immediately called Monica.
She answered on the first ring. "Vivienne? I thought you needed time to think."
"A reporter just called me. James Cooper from the City Tribune. He asked me about the divorce and about Raphael Laurent and I said something. I said it wasn't true that I married for money. Did I just mess everything up?"