CHAPTER 87: HATTIE
CHAPTER 87: HATTIE
I stared at my phone for a long time before pressing call. My hands were trembling, my heart still unsteady from everything that had happened. Maisie’s name glowed on the screen, and for a second, I almost hung up. But then her voice came through, bright and familiar. “Hey, you. How are you feeling? Any better?” I swallowed hard. “Physically, yeah. Emotionally… that’s another story.”
She must’ve heard something in my tone, because her voice softened. “What happened?” I took a deep breath. “Maisie, I went to the doctor yesterday. I thought I had the flu.” “And?” I closed my eyes. “I’m pregnant.” There was a pause—long enough that I thought the call had dropped. Then she exhaled sharply. “Oh, Hattie.” “I know,” I said quickly. “I didn’t plan it. I didn’t even think it was possible. I took a test last week—it was negative.” Maisie’s voice was gentle but steady. “How are you feeling about it?” I laughed weakly. “I don’t even know. Scared. Shocked. Maybe a little hopeful? It’s all tangled together.” “And Preston?” “He was with me when we found out,” I said. “He’s… being amazing. Calm. Supportive. It’s like he’s trying to make up for everything that happened before.”
Maisie was quiet for a moment. “Do you trust him this time?” I thought about the way he’d held my hand in the doctor’s office, the way he hadn’t flinched or looked away. “I think I do,” I said softly. “Or at least, I want to.” “That’s a start,” she said. “You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just take it one day at a time.” Her words settled over me like a blanket. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear them until that moment. “I’m scared, Maisie,” I whispered. “What if something goes wrong again?” “Then you’ll have people who love you to hold you through it,” she said firmly. “And what if it doesn’t go wrong this time? What if this is your second chance?”
I felt tears sting my eyes. “You always know what to say.” “That’s my job,” she said with a small laugh. “And Hattie? You’re stronger than you think. You’ve already survived the worst. You can do this.” When we hung up, I sat there for a long time, phone still in my hand, staring out the window. The fear was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp. Because now, it wasn’t just me and Preston. I had Maisie, too. And somehow, that made the road ahead feel a little less terrifying.
The next morning, sunlight spilled through the curtains, soft and golden. I woke to the sound of Preston moving around in the kitchen—quiet, careful, like he didn’t want to wake me. For a moment, I just lay there, listening. The smell of coffee drifted through the air, and something about it made everything feel almost normal. Almost. When I finally got up and walked into the kitchen, he looked up from the stove and smiled. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I managed a small smile back. “You’re cooking?” “Trying to,” he said, flipping a pancake that looked a little too dark on one side. “Don’t judge me.” I laughed softly, the sound surprising even me. “I wouldn’t dare.
He set a plate in front of me, then sat across the table. For a few minutes, we ate in silence. It was comfortable, easy. But underneath it, I could feel the weight of everything we hadn’t talked about yet. Finally, I set my fork down. “Preston, what are we going to do?” He looked up, his expression calm but serious. “We’re going to take it one step at a time. We’ll go to the doctor, make sure everything’s okay. And we’ll figure out the rest together.” I nodded slowly. “You make it sound simple.” “It’s not,” he said. “But it doesn’t have to be impossible either.” Something in his voice—steady, certain—made my chest tighten.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that this time, we could do it right. After breakfast, he insisted on cleaning up while I sat on the couch. My body still felt weak, but my mind was clearer than it had been in days. I watched him move around the kitchen, humming under his breath, and for the first time, I saw a glimpse of the man I’d fallen in love with months ago. Later, when he sat beside me, I leaned into him without thinking. His arm came around me, warm and sure. “I told Maisie,” I said quietly. He smiled. “How’d she take it?” “Better than I did,” I admitted. “She thinks it’s a second chance.” He tilted his head, looking at me. “Do you?” I thought about it for a long moment. “Maybe. I want to.” He nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Then let’s make it one.”
The words settled deep inside me, quiet but powerful. As the day went on, I felt something shift—small, fragile, but real. The fear was still there, but it wasn’t the only thing anymore. There was hope too, threading its way through the cracks. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something good.