She glanced at her half-packed bag, a wave of shame washing over her. Running had always been her instinct in the face of rejection. Foster homes, relationships — whenever things became difficult, she would withdraw before others could push her away. It was a defense mechanism developed in childhood, now deeply ingrained.
But she wasn’t a child anymore. And she wasn’t alone, not in the way she had been before. This baby — however unexpected and complicated — connected her irrevocably to others. She owed it to herself, to the child, and to the Andersons to face this with courage, with honesty.
She had an idea.
Sunny
Sunny retrieved a notepad and pen from her desk, settling cross-legged on the bed. If she couldn’t bring herself to speak the words, she would write them down. She would pour everything onto paper for Liam to read when she was gone — not forever, but long enough for him to process the news without her anxious presence.
Dear Liam, she began, her handwriting uncharacteristically shaky.
By the time you read this, I’ll have gone to stay with a friend for a few days. I’m not abandoning the girls — please make that clear to them. I just need some space to think, and I believe you do too, after what I’m about to tell you.
Sunny paused, pen hovering above the paper. How do you announce an unplanned pregnancy in a letter? There were no greeting cards for “Sorry I got pregnant during our secret affair while employed as your children’s nanny.”
She took a deep breath and continued writing.
There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just be direct: I’m pregnant, Liam. The test I took tonight confirmed it. Our night together after the confrontation with Morgan — when we weren’t as careful as we should have been — resulted in a pregnancy.
I want you to know I never planned for this to happen. I would never use a child as a way to insert myself into your life. I understand if you need time to process this news, which is partly why I’m giving you space.
I don’t know what this means for us, for the girls. Everything is complicated enough with the media scrutiny and your team’s concerns. This will only intensify those pressures.
I care deeply for you and the girls — more than I can express in words. The thought of causing you more pain breaks my heart. However, you deserve to know the truth, and I couldn’t bear to leave without an explanation.
Tears splashed onto the paper, smudging the ink in places. Sunny wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, struggling to maintain her composure long enough to finish.
I don’t expect anything from you, Liam. I’m not asking for promises or commitments. I only ask that you believe me when I say this wasn’t deliberate. Whatever you decide, whatever you feel is best for your family, I will understand.
Take whatever time you need. I’ll have my phone if you want to talk.
With love and regret,Sunny
The clock on her nightstand read 2:37 AM by the time she signed her name. The house remained quiet, the only sounds were the occasional creak of settling wood and the soft patter of rain against the window. Sunny folded the letter carefully, slipping it into an envelope addressed simply to ‘Liam’.
Exhaustion tugged at her, but sleep felt impossible. Her duffle bag sat accusingly on the bed. Beside it lay the letter — her concession to honesty.
She planned toleave before dawn, before the girls woke up. A clean break was best. She’d call them later, once Liam had time to process the news. She would explain her absence in age-appropriate terms, promising to see them soon and assuring them that she wasn’t abandoning them.
The plan formed in her mind with artificial clarity, a fragile structure built on assumptions and hope. If she left now, she could avoid the morning confrontation, the shocked expressions, the questions she had no answers for. Liam could read the letter in privacy and contact her when he was ready. It was considerate, wasn’t it? Giving him space to process without her tearful presence complicating things?
Sunny paced the length of her room, one hand absently resting on her still-flat stomach. The enormity of her situation pressed down on her. A baby. A child of her own, growing beneath her heart.
For a moment, she allowed herself to wonder about this tiny person. Would the child have Liam’s piercing blue eyes that could communicate volumes without words? Or her golden-brown hair that caught the sunlight? Would the baby inherit her tendency to overthink everything, or Liam’s defensive nature? Perhaps the little one would have his athletic build, strong and solid, or her artistic tendencies.
The thought of a little girl with Liam’s smile or a boy with her dimples made her heart constrict painfully. Despite everything — the terrible timing, the public scandal, the uncertain future — a small, secret part of her cherished this new life. This child would never know the pain of feeling unwanted, regardless of what happened with Liam. This baby would be loved fiercely, completely, unconditionally. She would break the cycle that had defined her own life.
Sunny caught sight of herself in the dresser mirror: pale and tear-stained, yet somehow determined. She was no longer the frightened girl who had bounced between foster homes, always anticipating rejection. She had built a life for herself, earned her education, and created a career helping children. She had survived loss and heartbreak.
She could survive this, too — with or without Liam Anderson.
The thought steadied her as she carefully packed her bag: enough clothes for a few days, toiletries, her phone charger, and the prenatal vitamins she had impulsively purchased alongside the pregnancy test. Female intuition. Everything else could wait.
She changed into comfortable traveling clothes: leggings, an oversized sweater, and sturdy boots in case the rain continued. Her movements were quiet and methodical, a stark contrast to the emotional hurricane raging inside her.
The letter propped against her pillow had Liam’s name facing outward. The whiteness of the envelope stood out sharply against the deep blue of her bedding, impossible to miss.
She made a final circuit of the room, touching small mementos of her time with the Andersons. The seashell Hailey had given her from their beach walks. The hand-drawn picture from Maddie, depicting the four of them with stick-figure simplicity. The candid photo of Liam laughing with his daughters that she had framed and kept on her nightstand.
