Subtle Changes
Автор
M. Wolf
Прочтений
185K
Глав
22
Charlotte’s world tilts overnight—her relationship crumbles, her ex passes away, and she’s suddenly facing motherhood on her own. Between restless nights, unsolicited advice, and a swirl of emotions, she’s convinced she has to handle it all by herself. But life has a funny way of surprising her. A gentle new connection begins to bloom, reminding Charlotte that love can arrive when everything feels lost. Through messy family moments, loyal friendships, and tiny triumphs, she discovers that healing doesn’t mean forgetting—it means opening her heart again, one small, beautiful step at a time.
Chapter 1
CHARLOTTE
My heels click against the hallway floor as I make my way to the cafeteria. Lester needs his afternoon coffee, and honestly, I could use the walk to clear my head.
I pull my phone from my pocket and check for messages. Still nothing from Harrison. My stomach does this weird little flip, but I try to brush it off—he’s not exactly known for quick responses.
We broke up four weeks ago after two years together. It was mutual, or at least that’s what we told ourselves. We’d been friends before we started dating, and we’re trying to stay that way now.
The thing is, Harrison’s in the army. He’s gone for months at a time, and I thought I could handle it. In the beginning, I missed him so much it physically hurt.
But after a while, the missing just…stopped. When he’d come home, I’d be happy to see him, but that spark we used to have? It was gone.
I never told him that. Maybe I should have.
The coffee machine whirs to life, filling the air with that rich, familiar smell. But today, something about it makes my stomach turn. I wrinkle my nose and grab some cookies for Lester instead.
“You’re amazing, Charlotte,” Lester says when I set everything on his desk. He doesn’t look up from his computer. “Which blend did you pick?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Just try it. You should be able to identify the flavors you sell.”
He gives me that mischievous look I’ve come to love about my boss. Lester runs Blackwell Coffee & Tea, and he’s honestly the best boss I’ve ever had. Kind, funny, and he actually cares about his employees.
He takes a sip and closes his eyes, letting the coffee sit on his tongue. A smile spreads across his face. “Robusta beans from South America. Dark roast. Nice and bitter, just how I like it.”
I clap slowly and grin. “You’re incredible, Lester.”
“It’s a gift,” he says with a wink.
By the time I finish tidying my desk, I’m exhausted. The thirty-minute walk home usually helps me decompress, but today every step feels like I’m dragging myself through mud.
My body feels hollow, like someone sucked all the energy right out of me. And every time I pass a restaurant, this wave of nausea hits me so hard I have to stop and breathe through it.
I’ve been feeling off for days now. I keep waiting to wake up with some stomach bug—half the office has had one recently. But as I walk past the drugstore on Fifth Street, I freeze.
What if it’s not a bug?
My mind starts racing, connecting dots I don’t want to connect. When was my last period? When was the last time Harrison and I… Oh God. It was a few weeks before we broke up, right before he left for his latest deployment.
No. No, no, no.
I keep walking, trying to convince myself I’m being paranoid. But the more I think about it, the more everything makes sense. The exhaustion, the nausea, the way I’ve been obsessively checking my phone for Harrison’s messages.
I turn around and head back to the drugstore.
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting on my couch staring at a pregnancy test. Five minutes feels like five hours. I set it down and start pacing my living room.
We were always so careful. Always. But that little voice in the back of my head keeps whispering that I’ve been ignoring the signs for weeks now.
Is that why I’ve been so desperate to hear from Harrison? Because some part of me already knew our lives were about to get complicated again?
I check the clock. One more minute. But I’ve never been good at waiting.
I walk back to the coffee table and pick up the test with shaking hands. Slowly, I turn it over to see the little window.
Positive.
I throw the test in the trash—lid snapping shut behind it—and walk to my bedroom, where I collapse on my bed. I throw my arms over my head and scream.
Normally, I’m someone who can keep her emotions in check—I’m definitely not a short-tempered person. But right now, I can’t suppress the screams of frustration, so I just let it all out.
Oh shit, what should I do? What should I do? I don’t know. This pregnancy couldn’t have come at a worse time. This isn’t what I’d hoped for.
I’ve always wanted to be a mother. I knew that was what I wanted in the future. But I wanted it in a stable relationship, with the love of my life—not with my ex, who’s practically never home.
Luckily, I’m still in good contact with Harrison, so I’m convinced we’ll figure it out together. I wipe my cheeks and decide to email Harrison again, but this time with a message he probably won’t see coming.
I pick up my phone and decide to call him first, but I immediately get his voicemail and decide not to leave a message.
A few minutes later, I’ve written a short but powerful email:
Dear Harrison, I hope you’re doing well. I know you haven’t replied to my previous email, and I hope you know I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t urgent. Because I just found out I’m pregnant. And when I think back, I think I’m definitely six weeks along. I’m not sure, and it hasn’t been confirmed by the gynecologist yet. But the test was positive… So here I am. I wanted to let you know right away, and I’ll update you this way. And hopefully we can talk about this soon. Take care of each other out there, be safe, and give me a sign of life soon. Love, Charlotte.
After I send it, I step into a hot shower and let the tears flow. So many thoughts are racing through my head, and I can’t filter them properly anymore. I know I should really eat something before bed, so I make a sandwich with what’s still in the fridge and eat it reluctantly.
It’s finally eight thirty when I get into bed—a bit early, but I’m exhausted. And it doesn’t take long before I fall into a deep sleep.
The next morning, I snooze for way too long. After the third time, I look at the time and see that it’s eight o’clock.
“Shit,” I mumble as I pull myself out of bed and get ready for work. Fifteen minutes later—a personal record.
I close my front door behind me and walk to the car. Twenty minutes later, I walk through the doors of the office of Blackwell Coffee and Tea.
I take the elevator to the ninth floor and then make my way down the hallway toward my office. Along the way, I’m greeted by a number of colleagues. I smile at them, but it feels forced—I really don’t feel like smiling right now.
Before I walk to my boss’s office, I first go to my own office to grab today’s schedule and start up my computer. With a tablet in my hand, I walk to my boss Lester’s office. I scroll through the schedule and see to my relief that he’s having a relatively quiet day today.
I’m secretly very grateful for that because I don’t know how well I can focus today.
“Good morning, Mr. Blackwell,” I greet my boss as I walk in, and he looks up from behind his laptop.
“Good morning, Charlotte. Tell me the damage for today,” he says with a small smile, and I sit opposite his desk to bring him up to date.
“A relatively quiet day today,” I say with a wink, and he sighs with relief. We laugh, and he gives me his full attention.
“You have a meeting at ten o’clock with Henry Lockett, the British millionaire who would like to invest in the company in the hope of expanding the company to Great Britain,” I start, and Lester groans and rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Terrible man—thinks he can buy anything… Anyway, keep going,” he says, and I giggle at his dramatic answer.
“At twelve o’clock, you have lunch with Joshua. It says here that he will provide the lunch. Then at two o’clock you have a meeting about the new packaging of the coffee beans, and at four o’clock there is a board meeting.”
I scan the schedule to see if I missed anything, but that’s it—a relatively quiet day without too many meetings. This means we can actually tackle some overdue work.
Lester rubs his face with his hands, and I can tell he looks exhausted. He’s been doing that a lot lately.
“Are you okay?” I ask carefully, and he looks at me with bleary eyes.
“Uh, yeah! Yeah, I think I need to wake up a bit,” he says, and I laugh.
“That makes two of us. Let me know if you ever need me to block out your schedule for a day. Maybe a day off wouldn’t be a bad idea,” I say with a wink, and he nods with a small smile.
“That’ll be fine, Charlotte. Maybe I could use a good, strong cup of coffee first?” he asks, and I stand up and point a finger at him.
“I know exactly which one you mean,” I say, leaving his office and heading to the coffee corner to make a strong black coffee.
At exactly 10 a.m., I get a call that Henry Lockwood is in the elevator coming up. I smooth my clothes and walk to the elevator to greet him.
“Good morning, Mr. Lockwood, I’m Charlotte, Mr. Blackwell’s assistant,” I say kindly as he steps out of the elevator, and we shake hands.
“Henry Lockwood, nice to meet you,” he says in a deep British accent, and I walk with him toward Lester’s office.
“Mr. Blackwell, Henry Lockwood is here for the ten o’clock meeting,” I say professionally, and Lester waves him in.
I let the men do their thing and continue with my work.
An hour later, Henry leaves Lester’s office, waves goodbye, and thanks me for the delicious coffee and cookies. I keep working on processing the notes from yesterday’s meetings until Joshua walks past my office and says hello.
Joshua always has this certain swagger in his step and his standard easygoing smile. He always reminds me of a young Labrador—all energy and enthusiasm.
“Hi Joshua, what brings you here?” I ask with a smile, and he rolls his eyes and comes to sit on my desk. I give him a stern look, and his eyes dart to the papers he’s sitting on.
“Apologies, my lady. Is my father in?” he asks, glancing toward his father’s office, and I nod with a smile.
“Oh, would you like some lunch too?” He hoists up a large bag filled with food, and the smell hits me immediately.
My face goes pale, and I have to swallow several times to keep from throwing up.
“No, thanks,” I manage to say with a forced smile, and he shrugs and walks toward his father’s office.
“If you change your mind, you know where we are. Oh yeah! James is also coming, but don’t tell Dad,” he says, taking that awful-smelling bag of food with him.
I manage to compose myself and walk to the coffee area to get a glass of water, hoping it’ll settle my stomach. I stare into space, thinking about the positive test and what steps I need to take over the next couple of days.
Someone clears their throat, and I’m startled from my thoughts.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” a deep voice says, and when my eyes fall on the man in the doorway, my heart rate shoots up.
