Page 11 of Secret Baby for my Off-Limits Fiancé

I shake my head. “No, you’ve done enough. Both of you. Now please, go home. It’s late, and I can work on this alone.”

Giana’s eyes are heavy with exhaustion. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Please. I need a moment alone. I’ll need your energy tomorrow.”

After a few reluctant moments, they agree and offer tight hugs before leaving.

Giana squeezes my hand one last time. “You’ll be okay.”

The door closes behind them, and I’m left standing in the middle of the shop, surrounded by the remnants of my dreams and echoes of a shattered future.

It’s the first time since the disaster that I’m truly alone with my thoughts.

I take a deep, shaky breath, trying to gather myself when a sudden tap on the window startles me.

My heart leaps, and I spin around to see a familiar face peering in through the glass.

“Layla!”

“Mom? What are you doing here?”

I open the door, and she rushes inside, worry etched on her face.

“I was so worried about you. I thought something terrible had happened at work…” She pauses, scanning the devastation. “I didn’t expect it to be this bad.”

I force a sheepish smile. “Time for me to kiss my business goodbye. I’m going to be in the red for months.”

My mom looks around, a hand firmly on her hip. “If only I had a couple hundred thousand dollars spare, I’d fix this in a heartbeat.”

My eyes widen, and I half-joke, “You know, Mom, if this is when you reveal that my bio-dad is secretly a millionaire who can fix everything, I’ll let you off for keeping his identity a secret.”

She scoffs lightly. “Please, Layla.”

“I’m serious.” I know this conversation has played out a dozen times.

My mother raised me as a single parent and never spoke of my father’s identity.

“Don’t be silly. You have enough on your plate. I won’t bother you. Call me when you’re free.”

She plants a quick kiss on my cheek and rushes out, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts. Her avoidance and my mystery father’s absence explain why I’ve always had trust issues.

I stop and take a deep breath.

What are you doing, Layla?

I refuse to drown in self-pity. I pull my phone from my back pocket, its cool metal a small comfort, and call Cathy.

“Hi again. Can you set up a meeting with my finance manager as soon as possible?”

There’s a pause.

“What?” Cathy sounds groggy, and I almost feel guilty for disturbing her this late. “Do you really think he can help us get out of this mess?”

I press my teeth together. “I don’t know, but I’m not going down without a fight.”

I hang up and stare at the wreckage. A ruined shop that once symbolized everything I had worked for. Every soaked dress, every broken promise, echoes the loss of countless dreams.

I wipe away a tear, not ready to surrender just yet. I think of the sacrifices I made to build this dream. Always skipping parties, passing up opportunities. I’ve poured my soul into every stitch, every design. And though tonight feels like I’ve lost everything, somewhere deep inside, a spark of determination flickers, a stubborn resolve begins to kindle.

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