Page 12 of One Little Mistake
And after that, everything happened so fast, I didn’t even realize how half of his stuff ended up in my rented apartment—and mine in his. How he had introduced me to his parents when they came to visit, and to his best friends, who we ended up traveling with. He wasn’t stingy—never let me pay for anything. He loved parties and nightclubs just as much as he loved staying in and watching a show together. It had all felt so real, so serious—there was no room for doubt. Why else would he do all that?
But something shifted the moment Max found out the exact date of his departure. It was like someone flipped a switch. He grew distant, closed-off, always busy. Suddenly, he barely had time to see me. He picked up his things from my place and dove headfirst into preparing for his new contract.
“Are we okay?” I had asked him once, holding my breath, because the uncertainty was eating me alive.
“Of course we are, Erin.”
“It’s just... you’ve been acting strange lately.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He had pulled me into his arms and kissed me gently. “I just want to buy a place before I leave. I found a few listings but can’t decide.”
“I see,” I said, a little disappointed, still waiting for him to ask if I wanted to help him pick.
And then time flew. I didn’t even realize how I ended up alone again—in the apartment, in the city.
We didn’t even say goodbye in person on the day he left.
No kiss. No hug. No wave.
He hadn’t even told me when his flight was and hadn’t asked me to take him to the airport.
He had just texted: “Already on the plane. I’ll call you when I land.”
Three hours later, the phone rang. That familiar voice again.
And just like that—loneliness. Again.
I had gotten used to Max. To his presence in my life. To our constant calls and messages. So when he suddenly disappeared, it felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. I couldn’t find peace anywhere.
This time, he had signed with a new company. His ship now sailed across the ocean, with long transfers between ports and almost no signal. It felt like my life had emptied out—and fallen apart.
One night, someone shattered the front window of my flower shop. The woman I rented my apartment from asked me to move out urgently because her daughter was filing for divorce. I got into a car accident because I hadn’t been paying attention and totaled my car. And to top it all off—two red lines on a pregnancy test.
It had all hit me out of nowhere, within the span of a single week, knocking me off balance and making me feel helpless for the first time in my life.
In that moment, all I had wanted was a man’s support; To lean on a strong shoulder and hand over my problems to someone else for just a second. To hear someone say, “It’s going to be okay.”
But Max didn’t even check in to read the message telling him he was going to be a father. I clutched my phone even in my sleep, trembling all over as I waited for his reply.
I had been terrified of his reaction—and finally let out a breath of relief when he suggested I move in with him.
And so, here I was. Surrounded by sterile cleanliness, high ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows. I had collapsed on the bed, still in my clothes, too exhausted to even move.
I ordered food delivery, called the auto repair shop for the fifth time that day—bugging them about my baby, because getting around the city without her had become a nightmare.
Then I sat there, trying to process the fact that I was pregnant.
What would happen to my flower shop? How would I manage on my own with a baby once Max left for work again?
Those questions haunted me throughout my entire pregnancy. I’d had to keep working, solve every problem on my own, attend all my doctor’s appointments by myself—and because of my heart condition, I’d even been hospitalized for a while.
Max had written so rarely that I sometimes cried the whole night through. Then I would wake up early and throw myself back into work.
I tried to fill every second of free time just to keep my mind from spiraling over Max.
“Can I start turning the office into a nursery?”
“Yes. Want me to send money?”
