The Billionaire’s Fight For Redemption (Noah and Sierra) novel Chapter 11

The questions won’t stop. They keep buzzing in my head one after the other as I prepare to leave the hospital.

Should I keep the baby? Should I get rid of it?

No one would know, yes, but I would. And the guilt? The guilt of ending a life that’s half me would eat me alive. This isn’t just about Noah. This baby is mine too.

I puff the pillow a little too hard as frustration builds up inside me. It fills me, tying me in knots that are hard to

escape.

I’m one of those people who has to leave everything neat and tidy once I’m done with a space. It doesn’t matter that someone else is paid to clean it. I can’t help myself. I have to smooth the sheets, fold the blanket, fix the pillows. I just can’t leave things untidy.

“What did the pillow do to you?” Benji’s voice startles me, making my heart leap to my throat.

I’ve been so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear him come in.

“Nothing,” I whisper, voice breaking as I collapse back onto the bed.

Fuck! What am I going to do? What should I do?

“You don’t seem okay,” Benji notes as he sits beside me.

No shit, sherlock.

“That’s because I am not,” I answer flatly, too tired to pretend.

“Are you upset about your results?”

I blink at him.

I like Benji. I really do. But what is it with men and asking the most obvious questions at the worst possible times? Of course I’m upset. Of course that’s what this is about.

The sharp reply sits on the edge of my tongue, but I bite it back. It’s not his fault. None of this is.

“You don’t have to call it that,” I say softly. “You can just say it. Pregnancy.”

He shifts awkwardly. “Right… are you upset about your pregnancy?”

“I am.”

He nods slowly, not quite knowing what to do with that. I don’t blame him. What do you say to someone whose entire world just tilted off its axis?

We sit in silence, each of us wrapped in our own tangled thoughts. It’s not uncomfortable—just heavy.

“Benji?” I murmur.

”

“Yeah?”

“Could you keep this to yourself? At least for now?” I ask, my voice small and tired.

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Not that Benji is a blabbermouth, but the last thing I need is for people at work to know before I can decide what to do with the baby. I need time. Time to figure this out before the world starts asking questions I don’t have

answers to.

“No problem,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I got you. You ready to go home?”

“Yes, but… my car’s at work.”

He stands up. “No worries. I’ll drop you off at your place, and you can catch an Uber in the morning. If you’re coming to work, that is.”

Honestly, work is the furthest thing from my mind. Maybe I’ll call in sick tomorrow. Maybe I’ll disappear for a while. I just need time to think this through before making a decision.

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the front after I settle the bill.”

He nods and heads out, leaving me alone with the silence again.

Benji had the sense to grab my backpack before rushing me here, so I sling it over my shoulder, take one last look at the room, and walk out.

I make my way to the nurse’s station in a haze. Sign papers. Pay. Take my receipt. The whole thing feels like it’s happening to someone else. I’m just floating through it.

Have you ever felt that way? Like nothing around you feels real? Like you are in a sort of dream. You’re awake, but not really awake. That’s how I’m currently feeling. Like nothing is real and everything is just empty.

I only realize I’m outside when a car honk jolts me out of my fog.

Walking briskly, nearly tripping, I make it to Benji’s car and slide into the passenger seat.

As if understanding that I need my space, Benji leaves me alone and doesn’t talk the whole trip. He already knows the way to my place from past drop–offs, so I don’t need to direct him

“We’re here,” he says gently.

I look up and to my surprise, we’re parked outside my house.

“Thank you, Benji.” I reach for the door handle. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it.”

I step out, waving as he drives off, then turn to face the house.

Blackie is waiting at the door, meowing loudly the moment I open it. Normally, her little greetings soothe me, but not today. Today, her soft cries do nothing to ease the chaos raging inside me,

I sink onto the couch, eyes sweeping over my living room.

This used to be my place of peace. My little sanctuary. But now it feels foreign as panic begins to set in.

Then the scene begins to shift in my head.

A crib in the corner. A baby blanket tossed over the arm of the couch. Toys on the rug. A playpen near the

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window. It comes to life in vivid, terrifying detail.

It’s too much. It’s all overwhelming.

The tears come fast and hot, spilling down my cheeks before I can stop them. I swipe at them, frustrated, and reach for my phone. My hands tremble as I type in a number I know by heart.

“Please tell me you’re calling to help you choose what dress to wear for that date,” Lilly says as soon as she picks up.

“No,” I whisper, barely holding myself together. “I’m calling to cancel.”

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