Chapter 30 Thirty
Days later, Antonia stood across the street from the office building, staring up at the familiar glass façade as if seeing it for the first time.
Her hand rested unconsciously on her lower stomach.
The decision had been made days ago—quietly, painfully, after hours of tears, prayer, and long conversations with Helen. She was keeping the baby.
That much was certain.
What wasn’t… was Kennedy.
Or rather, telling Kennedy.
She had played out the conversation in her head too many times to count. His face hardening. His voice turning distant. The words this changes nothing or you should have been more careful landing like blows. Worse—him insisting on solutions she wasn’t ready for. Solutions that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
No.
She wouldn’t give him that power.
This was her child.
And the only way to protect both herself and the baby was distance.
Physical. Emotional. Absolute.
With a steadying breath, Antonia crossed the street and walked into the building.
The office buzzed with its usual rhythm—phones ringing, keyboards clicking, low conversations humming beneath fluorescent lights. Nothing had changed.
And yet everything had.
She greeted a few colleagues on her way in, returning smiles she barely felt. Sarah waved from her desk, relief flickering across her face.
“You’re back,” Sarah said. “Feeling better?”
Antonia nodded. “Much.”
It wasn’t a lie. The nausea had eased slightly, though the fatigue lingered. But emotionally? She felt resolved. Clear in a way she hadn’t in weeks.
She didn’t sit at her desk.
Instead, she walked straight down the corridor she had been avoiding—toward Kennedy’s office.
Each step felt heavier than the last.
She knocked once.
“Come in,” his voice came, calm and distant.
Antonia opened the door.
Kennedy was behind his desk, reviewing a document on his tablet. He looked up—and visibly stilled when he saw her.
For a split second, something flickered across his face. Surprise. Relief. Something dangerously close to emotion.
Then the mask slid back into place.
"Good morning, Sir." She greeted.
“Ms. Adams,” he said formally. “How may I help you this morning?”
"I just came to submit this." She said and walked closer, stopping a few feet from his desk. She placed a slim brown envelope on its surface.
"What's this?" He asked her.
“My resignation letter,” she answered quietly.
The words landed like a gunshot.
Kennedy stared at the envelope, then at her. “What?”
“My resignation letter,” she repeated. “Effective immediately.”
He stood abruptly. “Antonia—this is… this is sudden.”
“I know.”
“Is this because of what happened between ua?” he asked sharply. “Because if it is, then we need to—”
“It’s not,” she cut in gently. “This decision has nothing to do with that.”
It wasn’t entirely true.
But it was close enough.
Kennedy exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Then explain it to me.”
She met his gaze, steady despite the storm inside her. “I’m leaving the city.”
His eyes darkened. “Leaving?”
“Yes. I’m relocating. Permanently.”
The word hit harder than she expected—even saying it.
“When?” he asked.
“As soon as possible.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy.
“This is extremely short notice,” Kennedy said finally, his voice controlled but strained. “That's not how things are done in this company, and you know it.”
Antonia swallowed. “I'm sorry,” she replied. “But the relocation stuff came up suddenly.”
He studied her for a long moment, as though searching for cracks in her resolve.
He found none.
Finally, he nodded once. “I’ll grant it.”
Her chest tightened.
She couldn't tell if she was relieved or sad.
“Not because it’s convenient,” he added quietly, “but because… I think it’s for the best.”
She nodded. “I agree. It's for the best.”
There was nothing left to say.
She turned toward the door.
“Antonia,” he called.
She paused but didn’t look back.
“I wish you well,” he said.
Her fingers tightened around the door handle. “Thank you, sir.”
Then she left.
Kennedy remained standing long after the door closed behind her.
The envelope she had brought lay untouched on his desk.
Resignation.
Relocating.
Leaving the city.
The words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
He sank back into his chair, a hollow ache spreading through his chest.
He had told himself distance was necessary. That boundaries mattered. That letting her go was the right thing.
But this?
This felt like loss.
Final.
He picked up the envelope slowly, his fingers brushing the paper as though it might disappear. Antonia was truly leaving.
Not just the office.
His orbit.
His life.
He might never see her again.
The realization hit him harder than any regret had before.
It scared him.
But he knew he couldn't do anything about.
He wouldn't let himself do anything about it.
But still, for the first time since he’d woken up alone that morning weeks ago, Kennedy Walton wondered if he was making the biggest mistake of his life by letting her walk away?