After seven hours trapped in a failing elevator, my firefighter husband finally arrived—then stepped over his pregnant wife to carry his ex-lover out first. / Chapter 42 / 50

Chapter 42 - The Subway Test

Before the wedding, I had to face a final ghost.

My freelance design business had grown, and I landed a massive corporate client. Their offices were located in the heart of the financial district.

Traffic was gridlocked. There was no parking. The only way to make the pitch meeting on time was to take the subway.

I stood at the top of the concrete stairs leading down into the station, the dark maw of the underground tunnel staring back at me.

My palms were sweating. My heart hammered violently against my ribs.

I can't do it. I'll lose the account. I can't go back down there.

I pulled out my phone and called Mark.

"I'm at the station," I panicked. "Mark, I can't go down. It smells like brake dust and old metal. I can't."

"Maya, listen to me," Mark’s calm voice anchored me instantly. "You don't have to go down there. The account doesn't matter. Call a cab, be late, it's fine."

"No," I argued with myself, tears blurring my vision. "I can't let the fear run my life anymore. I want this job."

"Okay," Mark said. "Then I'll stay on the phone with you. I'll talk to you the entire time. Describe the light to me."

I gripped the handrail and took the first step down.

"The fluorescent lights are bright," I said, my voice shaking. "There's a woman holding a yellow umbrella. There's a man playing a guitar."

"Keep going," Mark encouraged. "You're doing great."

I boarded the train. For four stops, Mark talked to me about mundane things—what we were going to plant in the garden, the color of the napkins for the wedding reception.

When I emerged back into the sunlight, victorious, I was crying.