Chapter Twenty-Eight

Rowan

My phone buzzes with Leo’s name flashing on the screen. My stomach twists, half from excitement, half from dread. I have a million things I want to tell him, but I’m not even sure where to start.

“Leo!” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Rowan, darling,” Leo’s British accent is as chipper as ever. “Just wanted to check in on you and see if you received the file I sent over?”

“Oh, uh… yeah, I got it. Looks amazing,” I say, trying to focus on his words and not the mess my life has become over the last few days.

“Good, good,” he says, and I can practically hear the smile in his voice. “How are things with the team? Are you traveling with Bex this week?”

My heart stumbles at the mention of Bex. Leo must not have talked to Bex recently. “I… um…” I fumble for words, biting down the rising knot of emotion. “Things are… complicated, Leo.”

Leo lets out a soft chuckle. “Is Bex being a twat, or is he treating you alright?”

It takes all my strength not to burst into tears right then and there. My hand tightens around my phone as I try to keep my voice steady. “Actually… I got fired, Leo.”

Silence hangs heavy for a moment, and when he speaks again, his tone is serious, soft. “Fired? Bloody hell, Rowan. That’s… I’m sorry. That’s a damn shame, and those fools don’t know what they’ve lost.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, swallowing hard. “It’s alright, though. I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, that’s one of the reasons I’m calling. I wanted to talk to you about joining us at the magazine. Officially,” Leo says, his voice warming. “What do you say?”

I open my mouth to respond, but a knock at my door interrupts. “Hold on, Leo,” I say, getting up and crossing to the door. When I pull it open, my breath catches.

There, wrapped in protective coverings and handled with extreme care by two white-gloved delivery personnel, is the painting. The painting. I had almost forgotten about it with everything else going on.

“The painting,” I breathe, wide-eyed and in awe. How could I forget? How could I forget the way Bex watched me look at it, his eyes softer than I’d ever seen them?

“What painting?” Leo’s voice comes through my phone, slightly confused.

“It’s, um… a painting I really loved from a gallery. The Effervescent Embrace. Bex bought it for me,” I tell him, still staring at the canvas like it’s a mirage.

Leo’s surprised laugh filters through. “Bex bought you a painting worth over a hundred thousand euro?”

I manage a shaky laugh. “Actually… he paid triple. The original owners only took what they paid and donated the rest to a non-profit that Bex gives to every year.”

There’s a pause, and then Leo’s voice drops to something close to awe. “What did you do to my brother?”

“Nothing,” I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes, a mix of gratitude and heartbreak. This painting… it’s proof of a side of Bex that I didn’t just imagine, proof that he cared… once, before I screwed it all up.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing, love. Sounds like my brother’s in love with you.”

A sharp breath escapes me, and I grip the phone tighter. In love? Is that even possible after everything? But before I can process that thought, one of the delivery personnel interrupts gently, “Where would you like us to set it, ma’am?”

I wave them in, pointing to a spot across from the couch where I’ll be able to see it every day. “Just… right there, thank you,” I manage, barely holding it together as they carefully unwrap the canvas and set it against the wall. The moment they step back and I see it fully revealed in my space, the tears I’ve been holding back spill over.

“Thank you,” I choke out as the delivery team offers a polite nod and exits, leaving me alone in the silent room with Leo still on the line.

“Rowan?” His voice pulls me back, soft and kind. “Think about my offer, alright? Whether something happens between you and my brother or not, you’re what this magazine needs. You could work remotely to start, but ultimately, we’ll want you here to manage your own team in Liverpool. Your own staff.”

I wipe my face, trying to pull myself together. “My own staff?” I murmur, the prospect is almost too big to process.

“Yes. Your talent is bigger than anything The Seattle Sunrise could ever deserve,” Leo says, sounding confident. “And I spoke with Harper. We’re going to do some big things in the years to come. We need you on board for this. I’ll send over a complete benefits package and a sign-on bonus I think might persuade you.”

A part of me swells with excitement, and I feel the temptation tugging me in, drawing me toward this incredible opportunity, one I’ve only dreamed of. But another part of me feels trapped, torn between my future and the growing secret that I’m carrying Bex’s child. I can’t just take a job halfway across the world without telling him about the baby.

But what if he doesn’t want this child? Or worse, what if he thinks this is just another angle, I’ve taken to trap him? There’s no easy answer, no simple solution, and I feel the weight of it pressing down on me, heavy and unrelenting.

“I’ll… think about it,” I finally whisper to Leo, my voice shaky.

“Good,” he replies, clearly pleased. “I’ll send over everything to your email, and you can take a look when you’re ready.”

We say our goodbyes, and as I hang up, the room feels quiet, almost hollow. The painting catches my eye again, and I stare at it, the vibrant colors a stark contrast to the gray uncertainty clouding my mind.

I press a hand to my stomach, the weight of the baby inside me more real now than ever. How can I bring a child into this? How can I leave Bex, take this job, and move halfway across the world without giving him the chance to know? And yet, how can I stay here, jobless and directionless, when I have a chance to build a life for myself and this child?

The offer is everything I’ve wanted professionally… but now my life feels more complicated than ever. The idea of working for Leo, managing a team, building something entirely my own—it’s thrilling. But it’s not just about me anymore.

My heart aches as I gaze back at the painting, its brushstrokes capturing more than just a beautiful image. It holds a piece of Bex too, of the man he is beneath the walls and gruff exterior. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance he’d understand. Maybe he’d even want to be part of this, part of us.

But there’s only one way to find out. And whatever comes next, I owe it to both of us—and to this tiny life growing inside me—to tell him the truth.

I have to shake this off because I need to head to my OBGYN appointment.