Charlotte slept fitfully that night, despite the warmth she still felt from her conversation with her father, and despite the soup Chelsea had made her that eased her stomach. She tossed around on her growing stomach, certain she’d already gained ten pounds.

At around four in the morning, she leaned over her bed, with half a mind to call Sean in the dark of the night—demanding that he tell her why he was ignoring her, why he wouldn’t say a single word about their baby. Perhaps the note hadn’t been obvious enough? Perhaps ‘NINE MONTHS’ NOTICE’ was too… abstract?

No, surely not.

Charlotte dressed herself in her running clothes at around five and found herself tracing her old route, alternating between a run and a walk. She could keep her body trim throughout the pregnancy, she knew; she’d already begun to read the literature. In her mind, she’d already begun to think of herself as a mother.

She dressed quickly and rubbed coconut oil over her stomach, knowing stretch marks were coming, and then she grabbed her bicycle and rode slowly to work. Other cyclists whizzed past, but with her helmet over her head, she maintained her pace, conscious of the precious cargo she now carried.

She entered her office, feeling a little brighter than the day before, and immediately dove into work. She knew Katrina wouldn’t arrive for another hour, and that Lyle wouldn’t be in for a while yet. She was setting an example. If she was going to take pregnancy leave, she needed to affirm her stance at the office.

A few moments later, she heard an angry rap at her door. Alarmed, she jerked her head up, dropping her pen. “Who is it?” she called.

It was Lyle who appeared on the other side. He bolted into the office, slamming the door behind him. His face was red, blotched. He was sweating.

“Lyle—are you all right?” she asked him, standing. The tension in the room was staggering.

“How dare you,” he said. His voice shook. He reached into his pocket and brought out a ripped piece of paper, swaying it through the air like a flag. “How dare you do this to our firm? You, of all people, Charlotte?”

Charlotte frowned, panicking. She scurried around her desk and grabbed the paper, staring at her own handwriting.

“NINE MONTHS’ NOTICE.”

“Oh my God,” Charlotte said, her voice quivering. “How did you get this?”

“It doesn’t matter how I got it,” Lyle said. He seemed akin to a bear, growling at her. “What matters is how unprofessionally you acted with the most important client we’ve ever had. Literally, Charlotte. And you don’t even bother protecting yourself!”

Charlotte felt tears sting her eyes, then. She leaned heavily against her desk, feeling defeated. Outside, the gorgeous Seattle skyline seemed to wink goodbye. She knew she would be forced to bid a somber adieu to the office she’d loved and worked so hard at; she knew that the ladder she’d climbed would come tumbling down.

“What do you suggest we do?” Charlotte whispered. She couldn’t look at him.

“As a result of this truly unprofessional turn, Charlotte, I’ve decided to put you on leave, effective immediately. I’ve also had to inform Charles Ellis of your behavior, and he is none too pleased, believe me.”

Charlotte suddenly felt that Lyle was going too far. She stared at him, wanting to say so.

Lyle seemed to sense it in himself, as well. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak like this. It’s just—Charlotte. I had such hopes for your future. I had such belief that you could do whatever it was you wanted. You were going to take over this company, once Katrina grew bored of it. And then, I assumed you were going to take on the world.” He shrugged. “Not just get pregnant because of some one-night stand.”

In that moment, Charlotte understood. She’d let Lyle down. Her boss cared deeply for her, and had been essential in her rise from the bottom to near the top of the chain. And now, she’d been discovered as being careless, reckless, and willing to destroy the firm’s reputation, to boot.

“I’m so, so sorry, Lyle,” Charlotte said, her voice catching. “I’ll pack up my things now.” She turned toward the window and walked toward it, feeling the weight of her stomach pulling her down. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Lyle didn’t leave, not right away. He seemed to pace in the back of her office, by the door, before finally moving himself into the hallway. He hadn’t found another word to say. Not a word of congratulations, and certainly not an ounce of assurance that she could have her job back.

Charlotte broke down the moment Lyle closed the door behind him. She felt the tears coming quickly, much like the rain in the gloomy Seattle sky. Her life was over. All she’d worked for throughout Yale, throughout her career, had been for nothing.

And it was all because she’d seen Sean Lawson, all those years ago, at that Yale speech. Despite knowing he had been a driving force behind her success, she yearned to take it all back. She yearned to nuzzle into her childhood bed, in the second floor of her old house, and sleep until she felt nothing at all.

Maybe, when she ran out of money, she’d have to do that anyway.