Chapter 5 Fractures and Revelations

The wind whispered through the cracked window as Maya stirred in her sleep. The morning light barely reached her face, but a sharp, unfamiliar ache in her lower abdomen forced her awake.

She sat up slowly, pressing her palm to her belly.

The pain pulsed again.

She'd had cramps before-mild, harmless-but this was different. Stronger. Hotter. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone.

She told herself to breathe. She told herself it was nothing.

But the ache didn't agree.

She stood to get water, and the world tilted slightly. Her knees buckled just enough to make her grab the wall.

She blinked back tears.

*No. Not now.*

---

Spencer was at his office, buried in architectural mock-ups, when his phone buzzed.

*Unknown Number: "Maya fainted. She's being taken to the hospital."*

He didn't read it twice. He was already grabbing his keys.

---

The hallway lights flickered overhead as Spencer stormed into the ER. The nurse at the desk barely had time to speak before he said, "Maya Kingston. Where is she?"

"She's in observation, sir. This way-"

He was already moving.

When he saw her through the glass panel-pale, quiet, IV in her hand-his chest tightened. She looked small. Not like the woman who stood her ground weeks ago with sharp eyes and a calm voice.

She looked breakable.

He stepped inside.

She opened her eyes. "I told them not to call you."

"Too bad," he muttered. "They did."

She gave a tired smile. "I'm okay. Just a scare."

"What happened?"

She hesitated. "I think I was pushing myself too hard. The stress. Maybe I haven't been eating right."

Spencer clenched his jaw. "You're supposed to rest."

"I know."

There was a pause.

Then she added, "I didn't want to scare you."

He pulled the chair close and sat. "Maya, you're not alone in this."

She looked at him then. "I've always been alone."

"Not anymore."

She looked away, blinking hard.

---

A few hours later, the doctor confirmed that everything was stable. The embryo had implanted. The pregnancy was progressing, and the cramping was likely stress-induced.

Still, she needed more care. Less pressure.

"You should consider moving into a safer space for a while," the doctor suggested. "This pregnancy is delicate."

Spencer turned to Maya. "Move in with me."

She hesitated. "Spencer-"

"This isn't about comfort," he said. "It's about safety."

She searched his eyes for a motive-pity? Control? But what she saw was something else.

Guilt. And concern.

"I'll think about it," she whispered.

---

Later, after she fell asleep, Spencer sat beside her, staring at her hand.

He had never thought a stranger could become this significant. She wasn't trying to take anything from him. She wasn't scheming. She was just trying to survive, quietly and with dignity.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead.

He wasn't supposed to care.

But he did.

-

Maya was discharged the next afternoon with a list of instructions: rest, proper meals, minimal stress. The clinic driver opened the car door, but Spencer offered his hand first.

She took it - reluctantly at first - but didn't let go.

The ride back was quiet.

When they pulled up to her house, she expected him to say goodbye, to get back in his car and return to whatever business billionaires buried themselves in.

Instead, he walked with her to the door, hands in his coat pockets.

Inside, she sat on the couch. He stood.

"You should move in," he said again. "Just for a while."

"I'm not someone who lives in penthouses," she replied. "I don't belong in that world."

"It's not about the world. It's about the baby. And you."

"I'm not fragile."

He studied her. "No. But you're tired."

She looked away.

Then, "You said something yesterday. That I'm not alone anymore."

He nodded.

"I don't know how to believe that," she admitted. "Everyone who ever promised to stay is dead."

Spencer lowered himself into the chair opposite her.

"I didn't choose surrogacy because I didn't believe in love," he said. "I chose it because I failed at love."

She looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability.

"Ivy left me," he said. "Told me I was average. Unworthy. I believed her."

Maya's expression softened.

"I thought... if I did everything alone, at least no one could hurt me."

"And now?" she asked quietly.

"I'm not sure anymore."

She let silence linger between them.

Then whispered, "You're different when you're not pretending to be perfect."

He let out a low chuckle. "Don't tell anyone."

Maya smiled.

It wasn't a grand gesture. But in that moment, it was the beginning of something real.

---

*Elsewhere...*

A luxury hotel suite buzzed with the sound of muted television. Ivy paced in front of the screen, glass of champagne untouched.

Her eyes were fixed on the TV.

"Callahan Group Reveals New AI Tech; Spencer Callahan Rumored Heir to Billionaire Magnus Callahan"

She froze.

Rewound it.

Played it again.

"...Spencer Callahan, once known as the quiet son of the family, is now rumored to be the true heir of Magnus Callahan, founder of one of the largest tech firms on the East Coast..."

Her mouth parted slightly.

"Spencer... heir?" she whispered.

A phone buzzed. She snatched it up.

"Find out where he is. Who he's with. And fast."

The man on the other end grunted. "Already done. He's spending time with a woman-someone local. Nobody famous."

Ivy's eyes narrowed.

"I don't care who she is," she said coldly. "She won't be there much longer."

She ended the call and stood at the window, staring out at the skyline.

"Spencer Callahan," she whispered to herself. "You're not going to build your empire... without me in it."

---