Ch. Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 21 Sorry Hayden, I’m Seven Months Pregnant with Another Man’s Baby 21

Chapter 9 

I still didn’t enjoy cooking, but the company canteen served meals I actually looked forward to. 

The old fear of sleeping alone lingered, but the dorm’s night guard provided a tangible sense of security. 

The company even organized self-defense workshops on team-building days, arming us with practical skills. 

It turned out, many of the vulnerabilities I’d thought only a relationship could patch were just as effectively addressed by a change of scenery and a supportive environment. 

Had I made the move sooner, perhaps this sense of equilibrium would have found me earlier. 

By mid-autumn, my colleagues-worried I’d been staying cooped up in the dorm-invited me on a road trip to hike. That day, as we headed out, I spotted Jake unexpectedly. He emerged from an apartment complex across from the company. I recalled a casual comment from a former colleague: Jake had transferred to headquarters too. I’d been busy with work messages at the time and hadn’t paid much attention. 

Our eyes met across the distance. 

The old, familiar flutter in my chest was absent, replaced by a calm so profound it was like looking at a 

photograph of a stranger. 

He looked at me, apology etched in his gaze. “Your face… is it healing?” I offered a polite, distant nod, already turning my attention away. 

Before a word could form, my colleague hooked her arm through mine. “Let’s move! We’ve got road trip 

snacks to buy!” 

And just like that, the moment was over. He might as well have been a passerby, his image dissolving from 

my thoughts the second I looked away. 

So when the company offered an overseas exchange program at the end of the year, I signed up without hesitation. After spending the holidays traveling the following year, I made the exchange location my permanent base, never returning to headquarters. Jake-who’d skipped going home for the holidays, brought groceries hoping to spend the break with me-waited until the food spoiled. All he found out was that I’d left 

for an unknown city to study. 

The second month of my overseas assignment, the day before April Fools’, a strange number called. “Mia… 

do you really hate seeing me that much? You left without even saying goodbye… do you know I waited for you for seven days?” His slurred voice cracked. “Why take away even the right to see you from afar? Today’s 

our anniversary. Last year we promised-this year we’d get married. I had everything ready… but you’re gone.” 

The voice on the line was thick with drink and tears. “You were always the understanding one… so patient. 

Why… why not give me that one chance? Why can’t you believe I could change? Why did you have to leave… 

like that?” 

A ragged sob escaped him. “Six years, Mia. Six whole years. How do you expect me to just… move on?” 

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The sobbing stopped. After rustling sounds, a soft, elderly voice came on. “I’m sorry, dear. He’s drunk- 

insisted on calling you. I hope we didn’t disturb you. Wish you all the best.” 

A faint twinge of something crossed my heart, but it faded quickly. “Thank you, ma’am. Wish you good health 

too. Goodbye.” I hung up. The call felt like a dream-fading away without a trace days later. 

Three years later, I returned to headquarters briefly. Several close colleagues stood at the entrance, chatting. When I approached, they broke into teasing smiles. “When did this happen? You kept it so quiet! Why tell us only now?” “C’mon-are we even friends? I’ve been waiting to be your bridesmaid!” I laughed helplessly. 

“That’s why I’m back-to hand out invitations. None of you are allowed to miss it!” They grinned, taking the 

crimson wedding invitations, chattering excitedly with questions I could barely keep up with. 

Then a familiar voice behind me silenced everyone. I turned-and locked eyes with Jake. “You’re getting married?” He stood there in his familiar work uniform, fresh from the office. I paused, then smiled and nodded. “Yes. Come to the wedding if you’re free.” He stood there a long time-until my friends and I waved goodbye. “Is he good to you?” I didn’t turn around, tilting my head to look at the bright moon. “Yes.” 

A long, heavy silence stretched out, so complete I assumed he had finally walked away. 

Then, his voice reached me, roughened by emotion: “I wish you happiness.” I turned then, offering him a final, 

peaceful smile. “Thank you,” 

I said. “I wish the same for you.” 

The moon, constant and bright, would always be there. And my own happiness, it seemed, had arrived right 

on time. 

(The End) 

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