Chapter 56 – “The Sound of Her Laugh”

These two chapters are a bonus to celebrate the new collection received , and I will stand by my word and release two extra chapters for each new collection received 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

Bonus Chapter(1/2)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday brunch at Jan's favorite café had always been sacred—lemon scones, too-strong tea, and no expectations. No high heels. No PR speak.

Just them.

Eliza slid into the booth across from her oldest friend, oversized sunglasses half-hiding the shadows under her eyes.

Jan raised a brow. "You look like someone who just got back from a writing retreat in the woods."

Eliza smirked. "That's oddly specific."

"It's the scarf. You never wear scarves unless you're hiding a hickey or your soul."

She laughed—actually laughed. Not the polite kind, not the measured one. A full-bellied, surprising burst that made Jan's expression soften into something close to wonder.

"There she is," Jan murmured, reaching across for her hand.

Eliza quieted, her fingers curling around her tea. "It's… been a good week."

"Good as in calm?"

"Good as in… I think I finally exhaled."

They sat in silence for a while, watching the steam rise between them.

Jan tapped her mug. "So. Are you going to tell me, or do I have to ask awkward questions until I guess?"

Eliza hesitated.

Then: "I'm pregnant."

The words were so soft, they barely made it over the clatter of cutlery and café chatter.

Jan didn't flinch. Didn't squeal. She just let the moment settle, then leaned forward and whispered, "How do you feel?"

Eliza stared into her tea.

"Like the edge of a cliff. And also like I've never been more grounded."

"That sounds about right."

"I didn't think I'd be the kind of woman who wanted this."

Jan smiled gently. "You're not the kind of woman. You're just… Eliza. Wanting doesn't make you weak. It makes you brave."

Tears burned unexpectedly. Not out of fear. Not anymore.

Out of release.

Elsewhere, Will sat across from Lydia at a sleek downtown lounge neither of them particularly liked.

She sipped her cocktail, tapping her nail against the glass. "You're smiling like a man who knows something the rest of us don't."

"I do."

"Is it market-related or Eliza-related?"

He chuckled. "Is there a difference?"

Lydia raised an elegant brow. "So, she said yes?"

"She said she loves me."

"That wasn't the question."

He leaned back, smile turning soft. "No, but it was the answer I needed."

Lydia was quiet for a long beat. "You know, for years I thought you'd die alone."

Will snorted. "Thanks."

"I mean it kindly. You were impossible. Cold. Always chasing something no one could touch. And now…"

He looked down at the ring box in his pocket—not to propose, not yet. But just to have it. To carry it close.

Now he knew what it meant to choose.

And be chosen.