The elevator doors slide open, and Maria is already waiting.
Her arms catch me before I can assemble anything resembling composure. The flight destroyed me—pregnancy nausea colliding with the lingering echoes of concussion until my body became a battlefield I couldn't escape.
"Easy, Miss Adison." Maria's voice wraps around me like something familiar. "I've got you."
I try to respond, but the words dissolve somewhere between my throat and my lips. My legs buckle. She absorbs my weight with practiced efficiency, guiding me toward the living room like she's done this a hundred times before.
She probably has.
"The couch." I manage that much. "Please."
"Of course." She settles me onto the cushions with movements that feel almost maternal. "When did you last eat?"
"I don't remember." The admission scrapes out hollow. "Everything I tried came back up."
Maria disappears toward the kitchen, already murmuring about ginger tea and crackers.
Zachary hovers near the door, his expression caught between duty and genuine concern. His hand grips the doorframe like he's fighting the urge to stay.
"Zachary." My voice comes out weaker than I want. "I need you to arrange a meeting with Walter."
His eyebrows draw together. "Now?"
"Soon." I close my eyes against the spinning room. "But not today. My body won't allow today."
"I'll make the calls." He hesitates, something almost tender flickering across his professional composure. "Rest. I'll handle everything else."
The door clicks shut behind him.
Maria returns with tea and a blanket, tucking both around me with efficiency that borders on motherly. I sink into the warmth and try to convince my stomach that stillness is possible.
My phone buzzes against my hip.
Jake's name glows on the screen, and something in my chest cracks open at the sight.
"Hey." I press the phone to my ear, trying to sound stronger than I feel.
"Hey yourself." His voice carries across the distance heavy with worry he can't quite hide. "You made it."
"I made it." The words come out thin. Unconvincing.
"You sound terrible." No pretense. No polite hedging. Just Jake, seeing through me like he always does.
"I'm fine." The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
"Adison." His voice drops low. Warning. "Don't do that. Not with me."
I curl deeper into the blanket, fighting a fresh wave of nausea. "The flight was rough. The baby didn't appreciate altitude changes."
"And the concussion?" The question carries an edge. "How's your head?"
"Still attached."
"That's not funny."
"I wasn't trying to be funny." I press my palm against my forehead, where a dull ache pulses like a second heartbeat. "I'm just tired, Jake. Bone tired."
The silence stretches between us. I can hear him breathing—measured, controlled, the way he gets when he's fighting to stay calm.
"You shouldn't have gone." The words finally escape him. "You should be here. In bed. Where I can actually take care of you."
"We talked about this." My defenses rise automatically. "I had to—"
"You didn't have to do anything." His voice sharpens. "You chose to. There's a difference."
"It's my company. My fight."
"It's your body." The counter lands hard. "And you're pushing it past what it can handle because you're too stubborn to admit you need help."
The familiar argument rises between us—my independence crashing against his fear, my stubbornness meeting his protective instincts head-on.
"I'm not being stubborn." Even as I say it, I know it's partially a lie. "I'm being strategic."
"You're being reckless." His voice cracks on the word. "And I'm a thousand miles away, completely useless, while you run yourself into the ground for people who don't deserve your sacrifice."
"Just a reminder, again, Walter isn't who I'm doing this for."
"Then who?" The question hangs between us. "Because right now, it feels like he’s the one steering your life. When you travel. Where you go. What risks you take."
"You've already said that, and I'll say it again: I'm protecting our future."
"You're risking it." His breath catches. "Adison, listen to me. This isn't about control. I don't want to control you. I want you safe. I want our baby safe. That's all."
Something in my resistance softens at his words. The raw honesty beneath the frustration. The fear he can't quite mask.
"I know." The admission slips out quieter than I intend. "I know that's what this is about."
"Then rest." His voice gentles. "Please. Just for today. Let your body recover before you go to war."
I close my eyes. The fight drains out of me like water through sand.
"Okay."
"Okay?" He sounds genuinely surprised. "Just like that?"
"Just like that." The concession tastes like surrender and relief in equal measure. "I'll rest. I promise."
"Thank you." The words carry weight. Gratitude and love tangled together in two simple syllables. "Call me when you wake up. I don't care what time it is."
"I will."
The line goes quiet, but neither of us hangs up. Just breathing together across the distance, connected by something stronger than phone signals.
"I love you." He says it like a prayer. Like protection.
"I love you too."
The call ends. Sleep pulls me under before I can fight it.
Evening light fills the room when my phone drags me back to consciousness.
Zachary's name glows on the screen. I fumble to answer, my mind still swimming through dreamless depths.
"The meeting is set." His voice carries an edge of warning that cuts through my fog. "Tomorrow morning. Private conference room in Midtown. Ten o'clock."
"Good." I push myself upright, blinking against the golden sunset streaming through the windows. "That's good."
"Adison." He pauses. "Walter sounded pleased during our conversation. Too pleased. Like he was expecting this call."
The words settle into my stomach like stones.
"Of course he was." I force steadiness into my voice. "He's been waiting for this moment."
"Be careful tomorrow." The concern in his tone feels genuine. "Whatever he's planning—it won't be straightforward."
"It never is."
I hang up and reach for my phone again.
My fingers type the message before I can second-guess myself: Back in the city. Meeting Walter tomorrow.
Violet's response arrives instantly, like she's been waiting: Keep me updated. Be careful.
I stare at the words until my eyes blur.
Careful. Everyone keeps telling me to be careful.
But careful won't save my company. Careful won't protect the family I'm building with Jake. Careful won't expose whatever secret Walter has been hoarding.
Tomorrow, I will walk into battle. Tonight, I will rest. It's the only promise I can keep.