CLARA'S POV
The next morning, I woke up with the same thought I had gone to sleep with.
That I needed to go home.
I laid in bed for a while deep in thoughts with the pregnancy test still sitting on the bathroom counter like quiet proof that my life had shifted overnight. Part of me wanted to take another test just to be sure, as if the result might suddenly change if I gave it enough time. But I already knew it wouldn't.
I pressed my hand lightly against my stomach, feeling nothing and everything at the same time.
A baby.
Victor's baby.
The thought made something warm spread through my chest before the familiar uneasiness returned. I reached for my phone again and dialed his number. It rang this time but only once and then the call dropped. I frowned at the screen and tried again but this time it didn't ring at all.
I sat up slowly in the bed. Victor might be busy, but he never blocked calls completely. There was always at least a voicemail or a short message later.
I opened our message thread again and the last thing there was still the text he had sent days ago and my reply.
"Clara, I miss you," I read again.
The words looked strange now, like they belonged to someone else. I typed another message before I could stop myself.
"Victor, I've been trying to reach you. Are you okay? Call me when you see this."
I stared at the screen for a moment after sending it, half expecting the typing bubbles to appear again but they didn't. The uneasiness in me grew stronger.
By noon, I had already decided I wasn't finishing the trip as planned. The project was almost complete anyway. Another week wouldn't change much, and right now my priorities felt very different.
I needed to see Victor. And I needed to tell him about the baby in person. Maybe the message had been his way of trying to fix things between us. Victor wasn't the kind of man who expressed emotions easily. Even the words I miss you must have taken effort. If he was finally trying, I didn't want to ignore that.
I opened my laptop and logged into the airline website to change my flight but the screen loaded slowly and then an error message appeared.
"Flight unavailable."
I frowned and tried again with another airline but the result was the same. Every direct flight to Creston City for the next two days was suddenly full. That was strange but not impossible. Summer travel season makes flights unpredictable sometimes. I kept searching until I finally found one leaving the next morning with a connection in New York. Relief spread through me as I selected it.
Right before I confirmed the booking, my phone rang. The unfamiliar number made me hesitate before answering.
"Hello?"
"Ms. Whitfield?" a male voice asked.
"Yes."
"This is Daniel Osei from the international project oversight team. I apologize for calling so suddenly."
I sat up straighter.
Daniel was part of the consulting group overseeing the building design my firm had partnered with abroad. We had met briefly during the first week of the project, though most of our communication had been through email since then.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
"Not exactly," he said calmly. "There's been a small issue with the final review documents. The board wants one more revision before approving the plans."
I immediately felt disturbed.
"I already submitted the final design package two days ago."
"Yes, and they're impressed with it," he replied smoothly. "But the chairman specifically requested that you walk them through the structural changes personally before they sign off."
I closed my eyes for a moment.
"Of course they did."
Large international projects rarely ended cleanly. There was always one more meeting, one more discussion, one more approval needed before everything finished.
"When do they want to meet?" I asked.
"Tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow morning??"
Right when my flight was supposed to leave.
I leaned back against the bedhead, frustration rising slowly inside me.
"Can someone else from the firm handle it?" I asked.
"I'm afraid not," Daniel said. "The chairman specifically asked for you. Apparently he was very impressed with your presentation last week."
That should have felt like a compliment but instead it felt like an obstacle.
"I understand," I said after a moment. "What time?"
"Nine."
That meant I would miss the flight entirely. I rubbed my forehead slowly.
"Fine," I said quietly. "Send me the details."
"Of course," Daniel replied. "And Clara?"
The sound of my first name in his voice made me pause slightly.
"Yes?"
"You've done remarkable work on this project. It would be a shame for the final approval to happen without you there."
His tone was warm in a way I didn't quite expect.
"Thank you," I said politely.
We ended the call a moment later.
I stared at my laptop screen again, the unfinished flight booking still waiting for confirmation. Slowly, I closed the page.
The meeting would only delay things by a day. Victor had waited five years for me already so another twenty-four hours wouldn't change anything.
At least that was what I told myself.
******
That night I tried calling him again but the call still didn't go through.
I stood by the hotel window for a long time.
Below me, the narrow streets were glowing with city lights. Barcelona looked beautiful at night. Warm air drifted up from the restaurants downstairs, along with the sound of music and people talking.
Normally I would have gone out to enjoy it but tonight I stayed inside. My hand moved again to my stomach without thinking.
"Your father better have a good explanation," I murmured quietly.
The baby didn't answer, of course. But the small life growing inside me already felt more real than the silence coming from Victor.
*****
The meeting the next morning lasted longer than it should have.
By the time I stepped out of the conference room, the sun was already high and my head was pounding from hours of questions about structural loads, design revisions, and aesthetic adjustments that could have easily been handled through email.
Still, the chairman seemed satisfied in the end. The approval papers were signed, hands were shaken, and the project was officially complete.
Under normal circumstances I would have stayed another day to celebrate with the rest of the team. Instead, the moment the meeting ended I packed my laptop and left the building.
My mind was already on the flight I planned to catch that evening. I had checked again that morning and finally found one leaving late at night with a connection through Boston. It wasn't ideal, but at least it meant I would be home within twenty-four hours.
For the past month Creston City had felt very far away. Now it suddenly felt urgent, like something waiting for me.
As I stepped out, my phone buzzed in my hand,and it was victor.