Updated Oct 25, 2025 • ~13 min read
Lucas stopped answering his phone.
Not all the time—he wasn’t that obvious. But enough that Sienna noticed the pattern. Missed calls during work hours. Texts that went unanswered for hours, then came back with vague apologies about meetings running long, deals going sideways, clients demanding attention.
“I’m sorry,” he said for the fourth time that week, standing her up for dinner. “The Tokyo office is eight hours ahead and they’re panicking about the Yamamoto contract. I have to take this call.”
“Of course.” Sienna forced understanding into her voice. “Work comes first.”
“I’ll make it up to you. This weekend, I promise. Just us.” But his eyes were already back on his phone, fingers flying across the screen.
She’d become an afterthought.
The irony wasn’t lost on her—she’d been lying to him for months, and now he was the one pulling away. Part of her wondered if he sensed something, if some subconscious part of him knew his perfect relationship was built on sand.
Or maybe he was just busy.
Either way, Sienna found herself alone more often than not. Fifteen weeks pregnant, exhausted, and increasingly unable to button her pants without strategic layering.
Her phone buzzed. Not Lucas.
Damon: Eating?
She stared at the text. They’d been doing this dance for two weeks now—ever since that night in the parking garage, since she’d admitted the truth out loud. He’d text something simple, borderline innocuous. She’d ignore it or respond curtly.
He’d show up anyway.
Not hungry, she typed back.
Liar. You skipped breakfast and lunch was three hours ago.
She looked up sharply, scanning the street outside her office building. Nothing. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t there, wasn’t watching from some vantage point she couldn’t see.
Stop stalking me.
Stop starving my baby.
The possessive “my” made her stomach flip. She should correct him, remind him that Lucas was her fiancé, that this baby would legally be his.
Instead she typed: Fine. There’s a deli two blocks east.
I know. I’m already there.
Of course he was.
Sienna found him in a corner booth, two sandwiches already ordered, looking infuriatingly comfortable in a space that should have felt like enemy territory.
“Turkey and swiss, no mayo, extra pickles,” he said as she slid into the seat across from him. “Unless your pregnancy cravings have changed since last week.”
“How do you even—” She stopped. “You know what? I don’t want to know.”
“I pay attention.” He pushed the sandwich toward her. “Eat.”
She wanted to argue on principle. Instead, her stomach growled loudly enough that Damon smirked, and she grabbed the sandwich with as much dignity as she could muster.
It was perfect. Exactly what she’d been craving without realizing it.
“Where’s my devoted fiancé today?” Damon asked casually. “I noticed he’s been… occupied lately.”
“He’s working on a major international deal.”
“Hmm. Convenient timing.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Damon leaned back, studying her. “Just interesting that Lucas suddenly got very busy right around the time you stopped being able to hide the pregnancy. Almost like he’s avoiding something.”
“He doesn’t know.”
“Are you sure? Because my brother’s not stupid, Sienna. He might be willfully blind, might be convincing himself that the timeline works, but some part of him knows something’s off.”
The words hit too close to home. She took another bite of sandwich to avoid responding.
“When are you going to tell him?” Damon pressed.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re running out of time. Another month and there’s no hiding it.”
“I’m aware of the timeline, thank you.” She set down the sandwich, appetite suddenly gone. “You know what? This was a mistake. I don’t need you monitoring my meals or tracking my schedule or—”
“Caring?” His voice was sharp. “That’s the word you’re looking for. I care, Sienna. About you, about that baby. And since my brother’s apparently too busy closing deals to notice his fiancée is falling apart, someone has to.”
“I’m not falling apart.”
“You’ve lost weight everywhere except your stomach. You have dark circles under your eyes. And unless I’m very wrong, you’ve been crying.” He leaned forward. “So yeah, you’re falling apart. And I’m not going to apologize for giving a damn.”
The sincerity in his voice cracked something in her chest. She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry in a public deli.
“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Making it harder to hate you?”
“Because hating me doesn’t change what’s happening. We created a life together, Sienna. That matters. I matter.” His hand covered hers on the table. “And whether you want to admit it or not, you need someone right now. Someone who knows the truth.”
“I have Bianca.”
“Bianca’s your best friend. She’ll support whatever you decide. I’m offering something different.”
“What?”
“Someone who’s willing to fight for you. Even if you’re fighting against me.”
Before she could respond, her phone rang. Lucas.
She pulled her hand away from Damon’s like she’d been burned. “I need to take this.”
“Of course you do.” Bitterness edged his words, but he gestured for her to answer.
“Hey,” she said, standing and moving toward the door. “Everything okay?”
“Finally coming up for air.” Lucas sounded exhausted. “I know I’ve been absent lately. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Work is work.”
“It’s not fine. You’re my priority, and I’ve been treating you like an afterthought.” He paused. “Are you free tonight? I want to make it up to you.”
She glanced back at Damon, who watched from the booth with an unreadable expression.
“Tonight works,” she said.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something nice—I’m taking you somewhere special.”
After they hung up, she returned to the table. “I need to go.”
“Let me guess. Lucas finally remembered he has a fiancée?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? Point out that he only pays attention when he’s feeling guilty?” Damon stood, tossing cash on the table. “You deserve better than breadcrumbs, Sienna.”
“And what are you offering? A relationship built on a one-night stand and biology?” She grabbed her purse. “At least Lucas wants to marry me.”
“Lucas wants to marry who he thinks you are. There’s a difference.”
The truth of it stung. She left without another word.
Lucas picked her up at seven sharp, looking polished and apologetic in a suit that probably cost more than her monthly rent.
“You look beautiful,” he said, kissing her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
“You’ve been busy.”
“Too busy. That changes now.” He opened the car door. “Tonight’s about us. No work talk, no distractions. Just you and me.”
He’d made reservations at the restaurant where he’d proposed—romantic, thoughtful, exactly the kind of gesture that should have made her melt.
Instead, she felt numb.
They ordered—her without wine again, him with his usual scotch. They talked about wedding plans, honeymoon options, the house his mother wanted to buy them as a wedding gift.
Normal couple conversation.
But every time Lucas’s phone buzzed—and it buzzed constantly—his attention fractured. He’d glance at the screen, frown, type a quick response, then refocus on her with obvious effort.
“I thought we said no work,” she finally said.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He powered down his phone with theatrical finality. “There. Complete focus.”
But the damage was done. The evening felt performative, like they were both playing roles in a relationship that looked perfect from the outside but was hollow at its core.
“Can I ask you something?” Sienna said over dessert she wasn’t eating.
“Anything.”
“Are you happy? With us, I mean.”
Lucas’s expression flickered—surprise, then something that looked like guilt. “Of course I am. Why would you ask that?”
“You’ve been distant lately. I just—I need to know we’re okay.”
“We’re more than okay.” He reached across the table, took her hand. “I love you, Sienna. I want to marry you, build a life with you. None of that has changed.”
“But something has.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “The business is complicated right now. There are pressures I can’t talk about, family expectations I’m trying to navigate. It’s not about you.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Damon.”
Her heart stopped. “What about him?”
“He’s been… difficult. More than usual. Challenging my decisions, undermining my authority, making everything a fight.” Lucas’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes I think he resents that I’m happy. That I found you.”
The guilt was a living thing in her chest, clawing its way up her throat.
“Why would he resent that?”
“Because Damon doesn’t believe in happiness. He believes in winning. And seeing me with you—someone he used to compete against—probably feels like losing.”
If only Lucas knew how wrong he was. How Damon wasn’t losing anything because he’d already won the most important battle—the one that resulted in the baby currently growing inside her.
“Maybe you should talk to him,” she managed.
“I’ve tried. He won’t listen.” Lucas signaled for the check. “But that’s not your problem to solve. Tonight was supposed to be about us, and I’m bringing up my brother. I’m sorry.”
They drove home in comfortable silence, his hand on her thigh, the city lights blurring past. He walked her to her door like a gentleman, kissed her goodnight like she was precious.
“I’ll do better,” he promised. “Be more present. You deserve that.”
“Lucas—”
“I know I’ve been distracted. But you’re the best thing in my life, Sienna. I won’t forget that again.”
After he left, she stood in her apartment and felt the walls closing in.
Lucas loved a version of her that didn’t exist. Damon saw the truth and wanted her anyway. And she was trapped between two brothers, two futures, two impossible choices.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Damon: How was dinner with Prince Charming?
She should ignore it. Should block his number, draw boundaries, stop letting him into the spaces Lucas was leaving empty.
Instead she typed: He’s trying.
Is it working?
She stared at the question, at the three dots that appeared and disappeared as Damon waited for her response.
I don’t know, she finally admitted.
I’m outside if you need to talk.
She moved to the window, pulled back the curtain. His car was parked across the street, unmistakable even in the dark.
This was insane. She should go to bed, forget Damon existed, focus on salvaging her relationship with the man she was supposed to marry.
Instead, she grabbed her coat.
She found him leaning against his car, hands in pockets, looking up at her window like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.
“This has to stop,” she said without preamble.
“Agreed.”
“I’m serious, Damon. The texts, the watching, showing up everywhere I go—”
“I know.” He straightened. “You’re right. This is unhealthy for both of us.”
She hadn’t expected him to agree. “Oh. Good. So you’ll—”
“I’ll stop once you’re safe.”
“Safe from what?”
“Yourself. This lie you’re living. Lucas’s willful ignorance.” He moved closer. “You’re not eating enough, not sleeping enough, running yourself into the ground trying to maintain a fiction. Someone needs to make sure you survive this.”
“That’s not your responsibility.”
“Maybe not. But I’m making it my responsibility anyway.” His voice softened. “You can hate me for it if you want. But I’m not walking away, Sienna. Not from you, not from our baby.”
“Stop calling it that.”
“Why? Because it makes it real? Because it means you have to make a choice?” He cupped her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone. “The baby exists. I exist. This—” He gestured between them. “—exists. Ignoring it won’t make it go away.”
She was so tired. Tired of lying, tired of pretending, tired of carrying the weight of this secret alone.
Almost without realizing it, she leaned into his touch.
“Come on,” Damon said quietly. “You’re exhausted. Let me take you home.”
“I am home.”
“Then let me make sure you get upstairs safely. And eat something. Have you eaten since that sandwich?”
She hadn’t. Lucas’s fancy dinner had gone mostly untouched.
Damon disappeared to his car, returned with a bag from her favorite Thai place. “I might have picked this up on the way. Just in case.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’m prepared. There’s a difference.” He followed her upstairs, and she was too tired to protest.
Her apartment felt smaller with him in it—his presence filling spaces she’d been trying to keep empty. He moved around her kitchen like he belonged there, plating food, heating tea, setting everything on her coffee table.
“Eat,” he commanded, settling on the other end of the couch.
She ate because arguing required energy she didn’t have. The food was perfect—exactly what her body needed, what she’d been craving without admitting it.
“How do you always know?” she asked between bites.
“Know what?”
“What I need. What I want. Lucas tries so hard and never quite gets it right, but you—” She gestured helplessly with her fork. “You just know.”
“Because I pay attention. Not to the version of you that you show the world. To the real you—the one who hides when she’s overwhelmed, who needs silence more than words, who craves terrible Thai food at midnight.”
“It’s not midnight.”
“Give it an hour.” His smile was soft. “Finish eating. Then I’ll go.”
But when she finished, when she’d cleaned her plate and drunk her tea, neither of them moved.
“I should hate you,” she said into the comfortable silence.
“I know.”
“You’ve made everything so much harder.”
“I know that too.”
“But I can’t.” The admission hurt. “I can’t hate you, and I don’t know how to feel about that.”
Damon shifted closer, careful not to crowd her. “You don’t have to know right now. Just… don’t shut me out. Whatever happens with Lucas, whatever you decide—don’t shut me out of this.”
“I’m engaged to your brother.”
“You keep saying that like it changes how you feel.” His hand found hers. “Does it? Change how you feel?”
She should say yes. Should lie one more time, add it to the mountain of lies she’d already built.
Instead, she said nothing.
And somehow, that was answer enough.
They sat in silence as the hour grew late, his presence solid and steady beside her. When her eyes grew heavy, when exhaustion finally won, she felt him adjust her position—gently, carefully—until her head rested on his shoulder.
“Sleep,” he murmured. “I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
She fell asleep wrapped in a coat that smelled like Damon, his arm around her, his heartbeat steady against her ear.
And for the first time in months, she slept through the night without nightmares.
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