POV Norah
Tears burned the back of my eyes, but I bit them down, forcing myself to keep standing, to keep breathing, as I watched him.
Xander. My Xander—was running. Running after her.
That said everything I needed to know after what I’ve heard.
“Norah, I—” his voice called out, desperate, breaking through the air like a crack of thunder.
But before he could finish, I cut him off, my throat raw as the words tore out of me. “No, it’s alright. I understand.”
I didn’t.
God, I didn’t.
And still, I turned my back to him and walked away, my chest splitting apart in silence.
I wanted him to come after me. I wanted him to call my name again, to grab my hand, to tell me he didn’t mean it, that I was wrong, that we were still right.
But his footsteps never followed. They carried him in the direction I had just seen.
Toward her. Toward Alaina.
My stomach twisted violently as if the baby inside me already knew the rejection I was trying so hard to swallow. Every step away from him felt heavier, like chains clamped around my ankles.
By the time I stumbled into the bathroom down the hall, my vision had blurred so badly I could barely see my own reflection. The light was cruel, showing me the red in my eyes, the smudged makeup, the pitiful ruin of what I had tried to hold together.
I braced myself against the counter, breathing hard, but the tears wouldn’t stop. My shoulders shook, my sobs muffled against the cold marble.
The door creaked, and then Fiona’s voice filled the room. “Norah? What the hell’s going on?”
Her sharp tone broke me further. I couldn’t even look at her. My hands pressed into my face as if that would stop the flood.
“She’s back,” I choked. “Xander’s ex is back.”
There was a beat of silence, then a sharp intake of breath, followed by Fiona’s low hiss: “That bitch…”
Something about the venom in her tone cracked my fragile restraint.
I collapsed against her shoulder, bawling harder, my cries echoing in the small space. Fiona caught me instantly, her arms wrapping tight, holding me up while I unraveled.
“Talk to me, Norah,” she demanded. “What happened? Did Xander say something? Did she do something?”
“It’s just…” I tried to explain, but the words tangled, my body trembling with the force of it. “She’s… she’s pregnant, Fiona.”
Her body stiffened under mine. “No.” Fiona’s voice was sharp, certain, like the snap of a whip.
“No, she’s not. Don’t you believe her lies. She would say anything to claw her way back in.”
I pulled back, blinking through tears, shaking my head.
“Yes, she is.” My hand went instinctively to my stomach, trembling. “And so am I…”
The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Fiona’s eyes widened, her mouth parting as she stared at me like I had just spoken a foreign language.
“You’re… you’re pregnant?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
I nodded, the tears still streaming freely, hot rivers carving down my cheeks.
“I found out just today. I was going to tell him… I was. But then she came back, and now—” my throat closed, my words drowned in sobs.
Fiona stared at me, her face caught between shock and fury. “Does Xander know?”
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “Not yet. And he won’t. I will not tell him.”
“What?” Fiona’s tone shot up, disbelief laced with anger. “Norah, what do you mean you won’t tell him? You can’t just—”
“I can,” I snapped, my voice cracking, then softening, shredded by pain. “I can. He already has an heir with Alaina. What am I supposed to be? The second choice? The mistake? The girl who ruined his perfect story?”
Fiona’s jaw clenched, her hand lifting as if she wanted to shake sense into me, but instead she just pressed her palm flat against my shoulder.
“You listen to me right now. You are not a mistake. You are not a second choice. He loves you—”
“He ran after her, Fiona!” I shouted, the sound echoing in the tiled walls, bouncing back at me like cruel reminders. My body folded in on itself as I sobbed harder. “He ran after her…. Not me. That’s enough of an answer.”
Fiona sighed, her eyes softening, her grip steady.
“Or maybe it means he needed answers from his past before he could fight for his future. Did you ever thought of that?”
I shook my head violently, unable to let hope slip back in when it hurt too much. “I can’t do this. I can’t compete with her.”
“You’re not supposed to,” Fiona said firmly. “This isn’t a competition, Norah. It’s your life. It’s your child. And whether he knows or not, that doesn’t change what’s inside of you.”
Her words stabbed through me, but they didn’t soothe the wound. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, shaking. “He’ll never choose me. Not when she’s back.”
Fiona exhaled long and slow, as though carrying the weight I couldn’t bear.
“Your graduation is in two days,” she said gently. “Let’s make it until then, alright? Just get through these next two days, Norah. We’ll see where things stand after.”
I wanted to argue.
I wanted to scream, to demand answers the world wasn’t ready to give me. But I didn’t have the strength. My body was weak from the sobs, my mind spinning with too many thoughts I couldn’t untangle.
I nodded numbly. “Two days,” I whispered, the words hollow.
Fiona gave me a small, sad smile, as if she knew how impossible the promise sounded.
She squeezed my hand and added softly, “You’re stronger than you think. Don’t forget that.”
The bathroom fell quiet except for the sound of my breathing evening out, though my chest still ached. My reflection in the mirror was a stranger: swollen eyes, flushed cheeks, a girl broken open by the boy she loved.
And then, my phone buzzed in my bag. The vibration jolted me, breaking the fragile silence. I reached for it, my hands unsteady, wiping tears from my eyes as I glanced at the screen.
A message blinked back at me.
Chris: I got your graduation dress for you, beautiful.