Kyomi's POV.
The town of Cherry Springs Harbor was a place that time had forgotten. Rows of colorful, weathered houses made up the quaint little settlement, complete with winding streets lined with ancient oak trees and a community where everyone knew everyone else's business.
It was the perfect place to disappear, the kind of place one went to when they wanted to forget about the world.
Or when one wanted the world to forget about them.
I settled into a small one-bedroom apartment above an old bookstore when I first arrived here, owned by a kindly widow named Mrs. Wren. The rent was cheap, the neighbors were polite but not intrusive, and for the first time in weeks, I could breathe without feeling the crushing weight of betrayal squeezing my lungs.
Life had become simple, almost numbingly so. I picked up a job waitressing at a place called Dottie's Diner, a cozy little spot where the regulars came in like clockwork for their morning coffee and gossip, or quick evening fixes. There were no corporate meetings, no lavish dinner galas, and no designer clothes. Just coffee, pancakes, and a bright yellow apron that smelled faintly of syrup no matter how many times I washed it.
And yet, even here, the ghosts still followed me.
When I wasn't pouring coffee or cleaning tables, I thought about the life I'd left behind. I thought about Darren and Kia, about the way my family had looked at me like I was a failure, a burden they were finally rid of. I thought about the company I'd once dreamed of helping grow, the future I'd built in my mind that had crumbled overnight.
And other times, when the night was deep and silent, I found myself thinking about him.
Camden.
I didn't even know his last name at first, but I remembered the warmth of his hands, the way he'd looked at me like I was more than just broken pieces. It had been reckless, foolish even, but for one night, I hadn't felt alone.
I sighed, rubbing a hand against my stomach. Lately, I'd been feeling…a bit off-kilter. My stomach turned at random times, and the dizziness was getting harder to ignore. Food didn't taste like food on most days anymore. It was probably stress, I kept telling myself. Or maybe it was the greasy diner food that was finally catching up with me.
"Hey, Kyomi, you okay?" Elide, my super friendly coworker called out, her voice breaking through my thoughts.
I looked up from where I was leaning against the counter, trying to hide the fact that I was sweating in rivulets through the air conditioning unit was turned on. "Yeah," I lied. "I'm just a little tired."
She gave me a knowing look. "You've been running to the bathroom for two weeks now. Come on, girl. You're not fooling anyone."
Before I could come up with another excuse, another wave of nausea slammed into me. I barely made it to the break room at the back back before bending over and retching into the sink. The entirety of the pancakes and coffee I'd had for breakfast came rushing back up, leaving me spent and exhausted.
When I returned to the main room, pale and shaking, Elide was waiting for me, a small paper bag clutched in her hand.
"Take this," she said, pushing it into my hand when no one was looking.
I peeked inside the bag and froze. A pregnancy test, still and foreboding, sat in it.
"Elide…" I began, but she cut me off.
"Just do it," she said gently, nodding towards the bag "it'll be better to know than not to."
My hands shook the entire way to the tiny employee bathroom. As I locked the door firmly behind me, my heart shook with the possibility of what this test could reveal.
For a long moment, I just stared at the test, heart hammering against my ribs. This was crazy. There was no way I was pregnant, right? I had just got out of childless marriage, even though Darren and I had shared a very active sex life. I hesitated, pain lancing through me once more at the thought of Darren and his betrayal.
Was he with Kia when we were still married?
Would he have stayed if I had given him a child?
I shook my head to banish all thoughts my previous life, choosing to focus on the figurative mountain that loomed in front me. But a small voice inside me whispered that I already knew the truth.
I followed the instructions on the packet with trembling fingers, setting the test down on the edge of the sink. I set an alarm on my phone to time it, and paced the entire length of the tiny bathroom. The minutes stretched into an eternity, and I continued to pace the cramped space, the fluorescent lights buzzing loudly above me.
The alarm on my phone sounded out, snapping me back to reality. I approached the counter slowly, trying to regulate my breathing and calm my heart that was pounding in my chest.
It's just a test, I chanted to myself as I picked up the plastic, then snapped my eyes shut in denial.
I stood there, clutching the test in my grip for what seemed like forever, until I couldn't take the suspense any.
Finally, I forced myself to look.
Two pink lines.
Positive.
The room tilted on its axis, and I gripped the sink to keep from collapsing. Pregnant. I was pregnant.
A strangled laugh bubbled up from my chest, half hysteria, and half despair. After years of being told I was barren, after being discarded like trash for my supposed failure to conceive…yet here I was. Carrying life.
Tears blurred my vision, sliding down my cheeks unchecked.
"I'm pregnant," I whispered, the words tasting foreign and fragile on my tongue.
For a moment, all I could feel was the crushing weight of it. The fear. The uncertainty. I had no job security, no family to turn to, no partner to lean on. How was I going to raise a child on my own?
The funds I was able to get before I made my abrupt leave were not so little, but I needed a steady source of income if I was going to give this child comfortable life.
And no way was I going back to the life I left behind.
As the minutes ticked by, something else stirred beneath the fear. Something fiercer. Stronger.
Hope.
I laid a hand against my flat stomach, feeling an overwhelming rush of protectiveness.
This baby was mine. A piece of me. A miracle born not of betrayal or obligation, but of a single night where I had chosen myself, my healing, my freedom.
They had called me barren. Broken. Useless.
But they had been wrong.
I wasn't broken. I wasn't barren. I was alive, and I was going to be a mother.
A fierce determination rose inside me like a tide.
I was going to build a new life. For me. For this baby. I didn't need Darren, or my traitorous, lying family. I didn't need anyone who saw me as nothing more than a means to an end.
I wiped my tears away and straightened my shoulders.
"We're going to be okay," I whispered to the tiny life growing inside me.
No, not just okay.
We were going to thrive.
I threw the test into the trash, washed my face, and returned to the diner floor with a new fire in my chest.
Whatever came next, I was ready.