The next forty eight hours moved like a storm she couldn’t outrun.Jessica barely left the office. The moment her “I lost him” quote hit global headlines, everything in her world tilted….. brand sponsors, collaborators, even her PR manager started calling nonstop.The first call came from her marketing head, nervous and too cheerful for bad news.“Jess, we just got word from Stone Cosmetics. They’re freezing next month’s campaign.”Her pen stilled midair. “Freezing or cancelling?”“Uh… technically, they said reviewing the partnership terms, but—”She didn’t need the rest.Jessica ended the call with a quiet “Got it,” leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes. The air in her office felt thinner suddenly, filled with the faint hum of the city outside and the relentless buzz of notifications.She’d spent months rebuilding her name after the divorce…… quietly, without headlines or pity. And now, a single viral clip had undone months of balance.She picked up the folder on her desk — T

The storm finally passed.But silence carried its own kind of noise.For three days straight, Jessica’s name had been everywhere—linked, twisted, reshaped by headlines that didn’t care about truth. When it finally died down, all she felt was… exhaustion.Not victory. Not relief. Just the quiet ache of surviving another public trial she never asked for.Now, her focus had to shift.She was eight months pregnant and running on caffeine, stubbornness, and soft music that barely covered the hum of her sewing machine. Her apartment had transformed into something between a nursery and a startup. Fabric samples covered the couch, notes littered the coffee table, and mood boards leaned against the wall.Her new dream—her baby brand, Hope & Haven—was finally ready to launch.Or so she thought.Her phone rang.“Jessica, I’m sorry, but after recent media noise, our investors decided to pull out,” her project manager said over the call, his voice brittle with corporate apology.Jessica held the p

The hall glowed like a dream.Soft music floated through the air, warm laughter filled the space, and white balloons drifted under a ceiling of hanging lights. Cameras clicked. The smell of vanilla cake and roses hung in the air.Jessica stood in the middle of it all, a soft blue dress hugging her figure, her hands resting gently on her round belly. Her cheeks glowed, not from makeup but from the strange calm she’d learned to live with.“Jess, you look amazing!” one of her friends squealed, snapping another picture.“Your baby’s going to be so spoiled,” another teased.Jessica smiled, polite and practiced. She’d learned to smile even when her heart tugged in two directions…. forward, toward her child’s future… and backward, toward the man who taught her how to stand alone.But today wasn’t about heartbreak.Today was about hope.At the doors, murmurs rose suddenly. Cameras shifted.The atmosphere thickened, curious whispers breaking through the chatter.“He’s here.”“Wait— that’s him

The rain started soft—like a warning the world whispered before it broke. Jessica put her hand on her lower belly. Her breathing wasn’t steady, her phone screen lit up soft against the dark tinted window of the car.“David?” she called out to the driver. No answer.The car was parked somewhere in between the apartment building and the hospital. Her contractions hit her quicker than she figured they would, they came sharp. “David!” she tried again, panic rising as she shifted forward. The front seat was empty. The keys dangled, engine off. The rain thudded against the roof like a thousand tiny drums.He was gone.For a heartbeat, she didn’t believe it. She leaned forward, blinking hard, gripping her belly as another wave of pain tore through her.Her driver—gone?Jessica fumbled for her phone, tapping the emergency contact. The screen flickered. No signal. The storm had swallowed everything.“Come on,” she whispered, her voice breaking.She tried to steady her breathing the way the