Chapter 53 Fifty Three
That night, Antonia sat curled on the couch, one hand resting unconsciously on her belly, the other holding a mug of lukewarm tea she’d forgotten to drink. The television was on, but muted—flickering images she wasn’t really seeing. Her mind was elsewhere. Still stuck in that conference room. Still trapped in the way Kennedy’s eyes had lingered on her stomach for half a second too long.
She flinched when her phone rang.
Not buzzed.
Rang.
The sound cut sharply through the quiet.
Antonia glanced at the screen and exhaled slowly.
Helen.
She hesitated before answering, already bracing herself. Helen never called without a reason. Especially not this late.
“Hey,” Antonia said softly, clearing her throat as she answered. “Everything okay?”
There was a pause on the other end. Not silence—just breathing. Uneven.
“Antonia…” Helen’s voice came through strained, tired. “I just needed to hear your voice.”
Antonia straightened slightly. “Helen, what’s wrong?”
Another pause. Then a shaky sigh. “I don’t know if I’m imagining things. Or if I’m finally seeing what I’ve been refusing to see.”
Antonia’s grip tightened around the mug. “You’re scaring me a little.”
“I’m sorry,” Helen said quickly. “I didn’t mean to. I just… I don’t know who else to talk to.”
Antonia shifted, setting the mug aside and giving her full attention to the call. “Talk to me.”
Helen inhaled deeply. “It’s Ernest.”
Antonia’s heart sank. “Okay…”
“He cancelled another of his trip,” Helen continued. “He said it was postponed. That the client rescheduled.”
Helen laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “But ever since then, he’s been different.”
“How?”
“He’s always on his phone,” Helen said. “Texting. Calling. But the moment I walk into the room, he locks the screen. Or steps away. He takes calls outside. Lowers his voice. Sometimes he doesn’t even realize I’m watching until it’s too late.”
Antonia closed her eyes briefly.
“And he’s smiling,” Helen added quietly. “You know that smile. The one he used to give me when we were younger. When things were… good.”
Antonia’s chest tightened.
“That doesn’t automatically mean...” she began, but Helen interrupted gently.
“I know. I know it doesn’t prove anything. But it feels wrong. Everything about it feels wrong. He’s distant. He barely touches me anymore. And when he does, it’s like he’s somewhere else.”
There was a crack in her voice now.
“I feel stupid,” Helen whispered. “Like I’m back to being that woman who ignores her instincts because she’s afraid of what they might tell her.”
Antonia swallowed hard. “You’re not stupid.”
“I don’t want to be paranoid,” Helen continued. “But I don’t want to be blind either. Tell me I’m overthinking this.”
Antonia hesitated.
She had learned the hard way what ignoring red flags could cost you.
“I think,” she said carefully, “that your feelings are valid. Whether they turn out to be right or wrong, they’re telling you something has changed. And that matters.”
Helen was quiet for a long moment.
“Do you think he’s seeing someone else?” she asked finally.
Antonia felt the weight of the question settle heavily on her chest. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But secrecy is usually a sign of something. It doesn’t always mean an affair… but it does mean there’s something he’s not sharing with you.”
Helen exhaled shakily. “I don’t even know how to confront him. Every time I try to bring it up, I freeze. I’m scared he’ll deny it. Or worse, confirm it.”
Antonia leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Whatever it is, you deserve honesty. Even if it hurts.”
Helen let out a soft, broken laugh. “You always say the things I’m too afraid to admit.”
They fell into silence again, but this one was heavier.
Then Helen spoke again, quieter this time. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Did you… did you go through with Austin’s plan?”
Antonia stiffened.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I did.”
Helen sighed. “I thought so. The way you sounded earlier… different.”
“It was supposed to be simple,” Antonia murmured. “Just a favor. Just pretending. Just one dinner.”
“And?” Helen prompted gently.
“And now I regret it,” Antonia said, the words tumbling out heavier than she expected. “I regret it so much.”
Helen frowned. “What happened?”
Antonia closed her eyes. “The restaurant. The one Austin applied to. The managerial position.”
“Yes?”
“The owner,” Antonia whispered. “Is Priscillia Walton.”
Helen gasped softly. “Kennedy’s mother?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my God…”
“I walked into that conference room thinking I was just supporting a friend,” Antonia continued. “And instead, my entire past was sitting across the table from me. Watching me. Judging me.”
Helen was silent, stunned.
“And Kennedy,” Antonia added, her voice barely steady, “was there too.”
“Oh, Antonia…”
“I didn’t plan for any of this,” she said, tears burning behind her eyes. “I never wanted him to see me like this. Pregnant. Engaged. Living a life he knows nothing about.”
Helen hesitated. “Does he know…?”
“No,” Antonia said quickly. “He doesn’t know the baby is his. And he never will.”
Helen inhaled sharply. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Antonia’s hand slid protectively over her belly. “It’s what I have to do. He already made his choice. He made it very clear there was no space for me in his life.”
Helen’s voice softened. “And Austin?”
Antonia looked down. “Austin has been kind. Supportive. He didn’t deserve to be pulled into my mess. And now… now I’ve put him in the middle of something that could explode.”
“You didn’t know,” Helen said gently.
“But I should have said no,” Antonia replied bitterly. “I should have trusted my instincts instead of letting myself be convinced.”
Helen was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “Do you still love Kennedy?”
The question landed like a blow.
Antonia’s throat tightened. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I don’t want to.”
“But?” Helen pressed softly.
“But seeing him today felt like reopening a wound I thought had finally scarred over,” Antonia admitted. “And that terrifies me.”
Helen exhaled slowly. “The kind of history you both have doesn’t disappear just because time passes.”
“I can’t go back,” Antonia said firmly, even as doubt flickered in her chest. “I won’t. Too much damage has already been done.”
“And Austin?” Helen asked.
“I’ve already told him the truth.”
Helen sounded relieved. “That’s good. At least you’re not carrying this alone.”
Antonia nodded even though Helen couldn’t see it. “I just wish life would stop throwing the past back in my face.”
Helen laughed softly, sadly. “Life never does that. It prefers chaos.”
They shared a small, tired smile through the phone.
“Thank you,” Helen said quietly. “For listening. For not telling me I’m crazy.”
“You’re not,” Antonia replied. “And whatever happens with Ernest… you won’t face it alone.”
Helen’s voice wavered. “Neither will you.”
After they hung up, Antonia remained seated for a long time, the apartment once again cloaked in silence.
She rested both hands on her belly now, feeling the gentle curve beneath her palms.
So many secrets.
So many choices.
And somewhere out there, the past was shifting, moving closer, whether she was ready for it or not.