The Ex-Husband of Alice Langley

10

TAYLOR SWIFT
I quietly open the door to Alice's room to see if she's awake yet, and I find her lying in bed with her computer open and some readers perched on her nose. She's using her baby bump to help prop up her computer, which is quite the sight—an image of multitasking at its finest.

"Hey, good morning," I say, breaking the silence with a warm smile.

"Hey," she looks up, a hint of surprise mixed with a sleepy smile. She shifts slightly, adjusting her position as her bump shifts, making it a little awkward but somehow endearing.

"What are you doing?" I ask, genuinely curious as I step further into the room.

"I'm reviewing the income, expenditures, and tax liabilities for 13 Management," she replies, her tone slightly muffled by the readers. "I'm trying to keep up to date with it and its past. I might audit the company to get a better understanding of where you are. I want to make sure you guys are meeting your requirements and have a quality system in place."

"Wow, that sounds really serious," I say, impressed. "You're way better at this than...uh...journaling...journalism." After a couple months I've definitely made improvements on my speech.

"I've heard," she replies, her tone shifting as she moves her laptop. "As much as I loved journalism, I need a more stable job that will make me better money. Something I'm good at. Even if I don't like it."

"How did you get so wrapped up in a career you don't even like?" I ask, intrigued.

"I was just always really good at it. Numbers and puzzles came easy to me. I was doing my parents' taxes when I was 15. At that point, I just thought that's what I had to do, you know?" Her gaze drifts back to the screen, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.

"Sounds like you were pushed into it," I say gently, trying to understand her journey.

"Maybe a little," she admits with a slight shrug. "But I also wanted to be successful, and this was the most straightforward path. Now, I'm just trying to figure out if I can still find some passion in it, even if it's not what I dreamed of."

"It's good that you're looking for that," I say, feeling a pang of empathy. "Life's too short not to enjoy what you do."

"Yeah, I know," she sighs, glancing away from the screen for a moment. "But for now, I'm focusing on making sure I can help you and the team. It feels good to contribute in a way that matters."

"Just don't forget to take care of yourself too," I remind her gently. "You've been through so much."

"I will," she assures me, determination flashing in her eyes. "Thanks for checking in on me."

"Anytime," I reply, smiling as I turn to leave but stop myself. "How are you feeling?" I ask, curious about how she's holding up.

"Like I'm six months pregnant," she chuckles lightly, rubbing her belly as if to emphasize her point. "I mean, I am six months pregnant, but it feels like I'm carrying around a watermelon."

I can't help but smile at her humor. "It's amazing what the body goes through, right?"

"Absolutely," she replies, her expression shifting slightly as she looks down at her bump. "Some days I feel like I could conquer the world, and other days, I just want to sleep all day. It's a rollercoaster."

"I can only imagine," I say, leaning against the doorframe. "You're handling it all so well, though. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, but I have my moments," she admits, her voice turning serious. "Sometimes I worry about how I'm going to manage everything. Between the baby and the work, it can feel overwhelming."