Page 25 of Atlas Uncharted

And as I lay there, I made a promise to myself that even if my prayers weren’t answered. I wouldn’t let him haunt me anymore. I wouldn’t let the past define me. I had a life to live, and it was time to start living it.

Chapter 14

Atlas

I didn’t expect rock bottom to come with wine pairings and a floral centerpiece, but there they were and here I was.

I was sitting at the head of my dining table, staring at the cold, untouched meal Ashlen had ordered for me—because she didn’t cook—and our maid had put it on the plate because she didn’t do that either. Or clean. Or fuck. Unless she was ovulating.

“How was work?” she spoke out of nowhere, startling me.

Years had made it so the silence between Ashlen and me had grown so thick it almost turned into something tangible. I was used to it now. Her sudden interest pissed me off.

I snapped.

"I can't do it anymore," I said, voicing my thoughts. At least a few of my thoughts. My voice was steady, though every word was laced with months of frustration. I ran a hand down my face, then let it fall to the table with a dull thud.

"The board is blaming me for the downturn. COVID has given them the perfect excuse. They’re threatening to replace me, Ashlen. Replace me. As if I’m expendable. As if I’m not the one holding everything together.”

Ashlen folded her arms, turning her posture defensive. Her dyed blonde hair was perfectly arranged. Her green eyes fixed onmine, narrowed and calculating—assessing me with a coldness she had mastered from years of being a conniving bitch.

“So what are you saying, Atlas? That you’re just going to walk away? Abandon everything we’ve built because it’s become difficult?”

“What we built? You mean what my father built. What I sustained. You had no hand in anything.” She only spent the money we’d earned. “My father is dead, Ashlen. He doesn’t have to face any of this. My mother? She’s off living her life.” I paused. “I’m done with it. I’m cashing out my stock and walking away.”

“And then what?” Her voice was as sharp as a knife, cutting through the air between us. “What happens to us, Atlas? You’re talking about leaving everything behind, but what are you going to do? What are we going to do? What about me?”

I suddenly felt a strange calm settle over me. “You signed up for ‘through thick and thin,’ but I won’t hold you to it, Ashlen. I won’t demand you sacrifice your life for my decisions. You’re free to leave.” I wanted her to leave. Me walking away would make me feel like a failure—as a husband, a son, a man.

The silence stretched into a moment of quiet that made the world seem as if it were hanging in the balance. I watched her, hoping she would take the out I was offering, that she would free me from the chains that had bound me for too long. Her leaving me would allow me the space to explore what I’d been thinking about for the past three years—since the night of her baby shower. I shouldn’t have married her.

But then, she softened, her hands moving to her stomach, her expression shifting. “Atlas... I’m pregnant again.”

In my head, I sighed—a tired sigh—and it reverberated through my mind. Memories of the last two pregnancies rushed backwith brutal clarity: the loss, the grief, the sense of failure, the guilt that had nearly consumed me. We’d lost both babies in the late stages, and the thought of facing that pain again was almost unbearable.

Ashlen’s tears came unbidden. “I can’t handle the stress of change right now. We’ve been through so much, and I just... I can’t bear the thought of losing another child.”

I felt so many conflicting emotions, and all of them were battling for dominance. Feeling obligated and guilty for not wanting to do so, I stood and crossed the room, wrapping my arms around her. “We’ll be okay,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her temple. “We’ll get through this. I promise.” The miscarriages weren't her fault, but the fact she wanted to keep trying was killing me.

As I held her, all my doubts and fears gnawed at me. My family’s company was crumbling, our future was shrouded in uncertainty, and now, with a new life on the way, the stakes were higher than ever. And as I stood there, holding Ashlen close, I realized that I was no longer sure if I would survive the inevitable fall—or if I even wanted to.

That night, after Ashlen had gone to bed, I found myself in my study, pouring whiskey into a glass. The room was dark. I sat down heavily in the leather chair by the window, the glass in one hand, the bottle in the other. I drank in silence, the alcohol burning a path down my throat, numbing me inside.

After a few drinks, I reached for my phone, dialing the one number I called on nights like this, when everything felt too heavy to bear alone. I didn’t know why I did it—maybe out of some twisted need to feel something, to remember what could have been. I dialed Kairi’s number, like I had done maybe twicea year since we parted ways. She always answered, never saying a word, and hung up seconds later. But she answered.

The line was quiet for a long moment, and then I heard her voice, soft and steady. “Happy birthday, Atlas.”

My throat tightened. I closed my eyes. I felt like I could breathe normally for a second.

Ashlen and my own mother hadn’t remembered my birthday. But Kairi had.

It felt like she was giving me an in. I wanted to tell her everything, to spill all the pain and confusion I’d been carrying, but the words wouldn’t come.

So instead, I just sat there, holding the phone to my ear, listening to her breathe on the other end of the line—and she let me. Best birthday present ever.

Chapter 15

Kairi

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