Chapter 8 - THE BABY SHOWER WITHOUT A HUSBAND
At twenty-eight weeks, my doctor recommended closer monitoring.
Twin pregnancies could become complicated quickly.
I followed every instruction.
Rest.
Appointments.
Nutrition.
Monitoring.
I had spent months living through betrayal.
Now I wanted my body to feel like a safe place again.
Sophie organized a small baby shower.
Not the elaborate event Margaret had planned in Manhattan.
No celebrity guests.
No sponsored photographs.
No designer gift bags.
Just twelve people in Ben's backyard.
There were yellow flowers.
Homemade cupcakes.
Tiny socks hanging from a string.
And a cake decorated with two little stars.
Sophie hugged me.
“You look beautiful.”
I laughed.
“I look enormous.”
“You look like you're carrying two humans.”
“Fair.”
For the first time in weeks, I felt ordinary happiness.
People asked about baby names.
They talked about diapers.
They laughed at Ben's attempt to assemble a stroller.
Nobody mentioned Celia.
Nobody asked whether Grant had called.
Nobody treated my marriage like entertainment.
Then Ben handed me a small envelope.
“From Dad,” he said.
I stared.
“What?”
He smiled sadly.
“I found it in his old desk.”
Inside was a letter.
My father's handwriting filled the page.
Hannah,
If you're reading this, you're probably facing something that feels bigger than you.
Remember that courage isn't always loud. Sometimes it's making one difficult decision and then another.
You deserve a life where you are loved without having to earn your place.
I began crying.
Ben hugged me.
That evening, I sat on the porch with Sophie.
She looked at my stomach.
“Have you decided on names?”
I smiled.
“Maybe.”
“Tell me.”
I hesitated.
“Eleanor and James.”
Sophie grinned.
“Ellie and Jamie.”
I nodded.
“My grandmother's name was Eleanor. James was Dad's middle name.”
She squeezed my hand.
“They're perfect.”
Three days later, I received a letter from Grant.
Not an email.
A handwritten letter.
He admitted the affair.
He admitted he had agreed to the Malibu ceremony.
He admitted he had allowed his mother and communications team to misrepresent our marriage.
He said he was ashamed.
Then he wrote:
I don't know whether you can ever forgive me. I don't know whether I deserve it. But I want to become someone our children can respect.
I read the letter twice.
Then placed it in a drawer.
I wasn't ready to answer.
That night, I dreamed of the clinic.
The television.
The white dress.
The waiting room.
But in the dream, I didn't sit frozen beneath the screen.
I stood.
Walked away.
And found a door leading into sunlight.
The following morning, Evelyn called.
“Hannah, we have a problem.”
My heart raced.
“What?”
“Grant has been removed as CEO.”
I stared.
“By whom?”
“The board.”
I swallowed.
“And Margaret?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“She appears to have taken control.”
I closed my eyes.
May you like
Then Evelyn added:
“And she's filed a complaint alleging that you misused funds from Harborlight.”
