A thin layer of snow still clung to the window edges as Cassidy sat by the fireplace, wrapped in a thick blanket. Her body had changed visibly. Her belly, round and full, showed clearly beneath her loose sweater. She was already more than eight months pregnant.
The cold morning air didn't disturb her calm. Only the birds outside and the gentle clink of the teapot broke the silence inside the quiet cottage. Then her phone buzzed on the table.
Georgia calling.
Cassidy smiled softly before answering.
"Hi, G."
"Cass! How are you feeling today?" Georgia's voice came warmly, but with a tinge of concern.
"I'm okay," Cass replied softly. "Tired, a little sore. But the baby's still kicking like crazy, so… I guess that's a good sign."
"Eight months and counting," Georgia sighed. "God, you're almost there. When are you due exactly?"
"A couple more weeks," Cass said, gently rubbing her belly. "Could be sooner. The baby's already dropped."
"That's good. Everything alright with the pregnancy?"
"So far, yes. The checkups are fine. No complications."
"I can't believe it. I feel like just yesterday we found out we were pregnant."
Cass chuckled. "We were supposed to give birth almost at the same time. But Jonah decided to get a head start."
"Ugh, don't remind me," Georgia sighed. "Seven months. Thiego was a wreck. I've never seen him cry that hard. I was scared too… NICU for weeks. But he made it through. My little fighter."
"He's home now though?"
"Yeah. Healthy. Freya's obsessed with him. She keeps trying to 'help' change his diapers. It's chaos."
Cass smiled warmly, imagining Georgia's bright, full home. "Sounds like a beautiful mess."
"It is." Georgia's voice softened. "And soon it'll be your turn. You're ready, Cass. You've made a home there. And Clara says you're doing amazing."
"Clara's a godsend," Cass agreed. "I'm so grateful you sent her. I don't know what I'd do alone."
"She's settling in okay?"
"She's amazing. Calm, capable… I don't feel so alone with her here. I really needed that. Thank you."
"Anytime," Georgia said warmly. "She told me you've been nesting like crazy."
Cass laughed. "Yeah. I think I rearranged the baby clothes drawer three times yesterday."
"Classic."
Georgia sounded relieved. "I'm glad. And I'm really glad you like Clara."
Cassidy's smile grew wider.
Clara, the 42-year-old caretaker Georgia had sent from Boston, had been living with her for the past two months. Warm, patient, and motherly—Clara had become a steady presence through the late stages of Cassidy's pregnancy, her quiet companionship easing the weight of solitude.
"Well, you're not alone," Georgia said firmly. "You have me, and now you have her. And I already booked the clinic for your delivery. Everything's in place. But if there's anything you need—tell me. I'll fly out there if I have to."
Cass laughed softly. "Hopefully, it won't come to that."
"Still. Promise me you'll call me if anything feels off. Anything at all."
"I will. I promise."
Then Georgia hesitated before continuing, her voice lowering slightly.
"By the way… Zeke called last night."
Cass stilled.
"What did he want?"
"He asked about you. Sounded… worried. Really worried."
Cass didn't answer right away. Her eyes drifted to the window, where pine branches bowed under soft heaps of snow.
"Don't worry," Georgia added quickly. "I didn't tell him anything. Just that you were safe. That you were doing what you needed."
Cass let out a soft breath. "Thank you."
There was a pause. Then Georgia said gently, "Cass… I think he really cares. Maybe more than you realize."
Cass gave a short, dry laugh.
"Zeke? Come on. He probably just feels... displaced. We lived together for four years. Suddenly I'm gone—it's only natural to feel a void."
"Cass."
"It's not love, G." Her tone sharpened slightly. "I know him. That man doesn't do love. Besides…"
"Besides what?"
Cass looked down into her mug as if the words were floating there in the steam.
"I saw him once. Back when we were still married. The way he looked at someone else. Not like how he ever looked at me. His eyes… they changed. Like he already belonged to someone, even if he didn't say it."
Georgia was quiet for a long moment.
"Are you sure you weren't misreading it?"
Cass's lips lifted in a sad smile.
"It's hard to misunderstand that kind of look."
"Still… he called me in the middle of the night. Not once. Not as a formality. He sounded like a man barely holding something together. If there was really someone else… why would he still be asking about you after all this time?"
Cass didn't answer. Her chest felt tight, conflicted.
"I don't know," she finally said. "I honestly don't."
The silence between them lingered.
Outside, the wind moved gently through the pines.
Cass glanced out the window, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Maybe he's just missing the idea of me. Or maybe he's just chasing something he already lost."
"Or maybe," Georgia said softly, "he's finally waking up to what he really had."
Cass didn't respond.
But long after the call ended, her fingers still curled tightly around the warm mug — as if holding on to more than just tea.
Cassidy set the phone down slowly, the edges of Georgia's voice still echoing in her head.
Zeke had called.
Again.
She leaned back in the armchair, one hand resting gently on the curve of her stomach. The baby stirred — a quiet reminder of how far she'd come, and how far she still had to go.
Her tea had gone cold.
The snow outside hadn't stopped since morning. Thick layers blanketed the hills, as though the world itself had decided to hush, to hold its breath.
Zeke was asking about her.
That alone should have meant something. But Cass found herself circling the same thought over and over.
Why?
It didn't make sense.
He didn't love her.
And she certainly didn't love him.
They had never been that kind of marriage — not the storybook kind, not even the tragic kind. Just… quiet. Distant. Arranged more by logic than emotion, necessity over affection.
She had accepted it.
Zeke had never offered more, and she never asked.
So then… why? Why call Georgia? Why search for her after all this time?
Does he know?
The thought struck cold — sharper than the wind outside. But she dismissed it just as quickly.
No, she told herself. If he knew about the pregnancy, he wouldn't be asking questions. He'd be demanding answers. Showing up. Sending lawyers. Pressuring Georgia.
But he hadn't.
So he didn't know.
Which only deepened the mystery.
She glanced down at her stomach again — nearly nine months now. Any day, her whole life would change.
And he still didn't know.
Cass's mind spun with more questions than answers.
Was he just feeling lonely?
Guilty?
Had things not worked out with the woman she'd seen — the one he used to look at with that kind of quiet longing Cass had never received?
Or maybe he was just chasing closure. A man like Zeke didn't like loose ends.
Cassidy exhaled, leaning forward to rest her arms on her knees, palms pressed together.
She didn't want to feel this confusion.
She had made her choice. She had left for a reason — to find herself again, to protect what was growing inside her, and to escape a life where she had become invisible.
She didn't miss him.
She didn't want him.
But now, his voice — through Georgia — had stirred something she couldn't quite name. Not hope. Not longing.
Just… unease.
Was he finally looking back? Or just reaching for something out of habit?
Cass didn't know. And the not-knowing was the worst part.
She stood slowly, her hand supporting her lower back as she moved toward the window. Snowflakes kissed the glass like secrets.
Maybe it didn't matter.
She would raise this child with or without him. On her own terms. In her own way.
But still, the question lingered like a whisper she couldn't silence:
Why now, Zeke?
A soft knock on the door pulled Cass from her spiraling thoughts.
***
"Cass?" Clara's gentle voice came from the hallway. "Dinner's ready, dear. You should eat something before you lie down."
Cass turned from the window, blinking slowly, her fingers still lightly resting on her stomach. She hadn't realized how long she'd been standing there.
"I'll be right out," she called back, trying to make her voice sound steadier than she felt.
Cass walked into the small dining room of the chalet, the scent of warm soup and freshly baked bread greeting her like a soft blanket.
Clara looked up from the table, concern flickering behind her kind smile. "Everything alright?"
Cass gave a faint nod and sat down. "Just… thinking too much."
Clara placed a bowl of soup in front of her. "Well, that's understandable. You're carrying a whole future in there."
Cass smiled a little, one hand instinctively drifting back to her belly.
"I'm fine, Clara. Really."
Clara didn't press. She just sat across from her with a mug of tea, watching her like a mother might — quietly, patiently.
After a few bites, Cass spoke again, softly. "Thank you. For being here. I know Georgia asked you to come, but you didn't have to stay this long."
Clara's eyes softened. "Sweetheart, I wanted to stay. No one should go through this alone. And besides," she added with a wink, "I like the snow."
Cass let out a small laugh — the first real one all day.
For the first time since the call, the tightness in her chest loosened just a little. The questions were still there — all the what-ifs and whys and maybes — but for tonight, they could wait.