Page 50 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

As I close my eyes, the weight in my chest eases just a little, replaced by a fragile, tentative resolve.

The road ahead might be filled with uncertainty, but for the first time tonight, I feel like I’m moving in the right direction.

Chapter Eighteen

Brody

I can’t help but pace my office like a caged animal, fists clenched, jaw tight. My gaze darts to the phone on my desk for the hundredth time, but it’s silent: no missed calls, no messages.

Tasha’s gone, just like that.

She left in the dead of night, leaving nothing behind but that damn letter for Gemma and the borrowed dress folded neatly on her bed.

How could she walk away so easily? How could she leave without even giving me a chance to explain, to make things right?

I can’t get the image out of my mind: me walking back to the table with Josh after our conversation, the three of us waiting for her to return from the bathroom.

But she never came back.

I’ve called her God knows how many times.

Gemma called too, trying to help.

Still, nothing.

The hostess confirmed she left, a soft look of pity in her eyes when she realized who we were asking about.

“She seemed upset,” she had told me.

Last night, sleep was out of the question.

I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every look, wondering where it all went wrong.

I can’t stop thinking about her, about us.

We hadn’t even had a proper conversation about the baby yet.

Hell, we were barely starting to figure out whatwewere when she just…vanished.

I keep dialing her number, every ring that goes unanswered fraying my nerves apart even further. The thought of her alone, somewhere out there, pregnant and scared…it eats me alive.

I feel like a complete failure. I’ve tried to handle things the way I thought was best, but now I’m realizing I’ve been blind, oblivious to how lost she must’ve felt.

I’m supposed to have my shit together. I’m supposed to be the reliable one. But I can’t fix this if she won’t even let me in.

Worry twists in my gut, clawing at me from the inside out.

Every hour that passes without a word from her feels like a ticking time bomb waiting to blow up in our faces.

I’ve been through plenty of storms in my life: divorce, business downturns, crises that would’ve broken lesser men.

Nothing has ever made me feel this out of control, thisdesperate.

The day drags by in a haze of monotony; meetings, emails, phone calls, but it’s all just white noise.

I drown myself in work, hoping it’ll dull the edge of my thoughts, but nothing stops Tasha’s disappearance from ringing in my mind.

This office feels cold and sterile, lifeless without her presence.

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