Page 93 of Heart of The Night

‘Giving it a try,’ Dad added, ‘won’t necessarily hurt. You can always step back if it gets too much. But if you don’t give it a chance, you might end up regretting it, and by then, it could be too late.’

‘I do love him,’ I said, staring blankly into my tea. ‘But I’m scared.’

Mum leaned forward, squeezing my hand. ‘It’s all right to be scared, Cara. But remember, you’re not alone in this. We’re here for you, and so is William. You just need to take it one step at a time.’

Dad nodded in agreement. ‘You’re strong, Cara. Stronger than you think. If you believe in your love for William, then give it a shot. But don’t rush yourself. Take the time you need to figure things out.’

‘Until you know for sure whether the baby is his, there’s no need to decide anything,’ Mum reminded me. ‘Use this time to really think it through. It’s normal to have mixed feelings – this is a big shock. And for William’s sake, I agree with your dad: let things settle a bit before you make a decision. Don’t tell him anything until you’re absolutely sure of what you want to do.’

‘Yeah, don’t worry.’ I raised my mug, taking a sip. ‘I won’t be impulsive about this. I don’t want to give him any false hope.’

‘Good. Take your time, love,’ Dad said. ‘If he’s worth keeping, he’ll understand.’

Mum gave me a reassuring smile. ‘And we’ll support you no matter what you decide.’

I nodded, the tension in my chest easing slightly. For the first time that day, I felt a tiny seed of hope take root. Maybe, just maybe, William and I could find a way through this.

§ § §

The soft glow of the lamp posts outside filtered through the curtains, casting shadows across my childhood bedroom. The distant hum of the city was a constant reminder of the bustling life that continued beyond these walls, of the world moving on no matter how much I wanted it to stop, just for a moment.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, surrounded by mementos of my past. Various sports trophies lined the shelves – football, volleyball, tennis, basketball, even curling. The walls were adorned with old posters of my favourite rock bands, photographs of teammates, moments of triumph, and memories of simpler times.

I sighed, turning over for the umpteenth time. Sleep eluded me, the events of the day playing on a loop in my mind. After dinner, we had FaceTimed my sister Phoebe in New York. She had listened intently as I told her about my situation with William, her face a mixture of concern and sympathy. But at least everything was going well on her end; she was still happily with her girlfriend, Bethan, and they planned to come to London for Christmas. The news had been a small comfort in the midst of my turmoil.

After the call, I had retreated to my bedroom, wanting to be alone with my thoughts. But now, as I lay in the dark, the anxiety hounded me, making it impossible to relax. I glanced at the clock on my bedside table, its glowing digits telling me it was well past midnight.

I picked up my phone, scrolling aimlessly through messages and social media, trying to distract myself. But nothing could take my mind off William and the looming uncertainty of our future.

The thought of seeing him at work tomorrow made my stomach churn with dread. I couldn’t bear the idea of facing him so soon after everything that had happened. The wound was still raw, the emotions too fresh. How was I supposed to concentrate on work when all I could think about was our predicament?

Yet, I couldn’t help but worry about how he was coping. The urge to reach out, to hear his voice, was almost unbearable. I knew Jason would have contacted him, maybe even visited him, but it didn’t ease the pain in my heart.

I stared at the screen of my phone. Reaching out felt like the right thing to do, but I wasn’t sure if I had the strength to hear his voice just yet. Still, the thought of him suffering alone was worse.

My fingers trembled slightly as I navigated to his name in my contacts. The phone barely rang once before he answered, his tone saturated with both surprise and relief. ‘Cara?’

My heart palpitated at the sound of his voice, my face twisting.

‘I… I just wanted to check on you,’ I said, struggling to get the words out. ‘I needed to hear your voice.’

‘And I needed to hear yours,’ he said, sounding strained.

‘How… how are you doing?’

There was a pause, and I could hear the tension in him.

‘Not great,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been… worried.’

Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to the agony in his voice.

‘I’m sorry.’ I sat up. ‘I just really needed some space.’

‘Don’t apologise. I’m the one at fault here.’

I swallowed the ache in my throat. ‘You didn’t mean for this to happen.’

He huffed. ‘No. No, I certainly didn’t.’

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