It seems like just the other day that we started this '40 Weeks' journey on that fateful Valentine's Day evening when Carla bumped into Nick at a downtown bar, and now here we are on the home stretch with the final quarter of chapters.

I'd like to take his opportunity to thank everyone who has stuck with this story and especially to those of you who have left such kind reviews. I am grateful for every single one of them. I hope you continue to enjoy Carla's journey as her pregnancy reaches full term; there's certainly plenty of drama to come.

A little bit of housekeeping before we embark on the latest instalment... I'll be sticking with Sunday as the publishing day for the remaining chapters as I've recently started a new job and so don't have much spare time during the week to dedicate to writing. Thank you for your understanding.

Week 31: Moment of truth

"I'm not sure," Nick said with a forced smile as he slid into the chair opposite Carla and glanced nervously about Roy's Rolls that was bustling with customers in the mid-morning rush. "If I should be reading anything into your choice of meeting place."

"What d'ya mean?" Carla asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, I dunno," Nick shrugged. "Did she ask me somewhere public so she could dump me without fear of me causing a scene? Or did she just fancy a fry up with her fiancé. The latter, if you're interested, that's the one I'm hoping for."

"Nick–"

"Carla, please," Nick pleaded with her, fearful of what was coming. "I've been going out of my mind."

Carla didn't reply, not with words, but with action. One action, so unambiguous, that Nick was left with no doubt as to her intentions. Tugging her engagement ring from her finger, she slid it across the smooth white surface of the table towards Nick, muttering a futile "sorry" as she pulled her hand away, leaving the physical symbol of their relationship abandoned on the cold, clinical surface.

"Don't make any hasty decisions," Nick urged her, pushing the ring back towards her. "Let's at least talk first."

"There's no point, Nick," Carla said, placing her hand, gentle in touch but firm in intent, onto his. "I've made up my mind."

Nick stared at Carla, he saw the look in her eyes and the sympathetic smile on her face; it was a look filled with pity, he imagined bitterly, pity for the fool he was.

"You really mean it, don't you?" he asked, all hope fading from his heart.

"Why do you say that?"

"There's, umm... I dunno, there's something different about you."

"You know when you've made a decision and you have complete peace, in here," Carla tapped her abdomen lightly, "about it. You don't even have to think about it anymore, you just know."

"I can't believe you're throwing everything we've got away because of a feeling," Nick sniffed, his head shaking from side to side.

"Come on, Nick. You know it wasn't right. You know that we were trying that little bit harder to make it work because… well, because of our son. Pushing out all of those little niggling doubts for his sake."

"Did you...?" Nick faltered, unable to ask the question, unable to face the potential answer.

"What?"

"Did you feel nothing for me all this time?"

"No!" Carla cried. "Oh, Nick, no. I loved you. I will always love you. Because you are my son's father. But that doesn't mean I want to be married to you. And, if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that I am not your first choice for a wife."

"You can't get over the Leanne thing, is that it?"

"No, Nick," Carla shook her head sadly. "It's you that can't get over the Leanne thing."

Carla and Nick stood awkwardly on the pavement outside Roy's Rolls, neither with any idea of how to say goodbye.

"I still don't think we'd be the disaster you're imagining," Nick offered up his last-ditch effort to salvage something from their relationship.

"I never said we'd be a disaster. Could we have been happy?" Carla shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I think we could've been happy in our own way. It's not enough though, is it? Not when we both know we'd be happier with other people."

"So, that's it then?"

"You're acting like we're never gonna see each other again."

"That's what it feels like," he lamented.

"We're gonna be parents, Nick," Carla reassured him. "A mum and dad to a little boy, our little boy, and, whether you like it or not, we're all gonna be in each other's lives for... well, forever."

"I guess you're right."

"See, you can't get rid of me that easy."

"Good," Nick smiled and, extending his arms outwards, invited her in for a hug.

"This is the right thing, Nick," Carla whispered as she clung onto him, holding him close, for the last time. "You'll see that one day."

"I'll talk to you later, yeah?" Nick asked hopefully as Carla gently disentangled herself from his embrace.

"Of course," Carla smiled up at him. "I better get back to the factory, make sure it hasn't fallen apart while I've been away."

"Bye," Nick breathed, watching on sadly as Carla walked away from him, down Rosamund Street and back to the factory, back to a life that he was now shut out from. With a sigh, he turned away and began his lonely walk down Viaduct Street. At least he still had the Bistro, he consoled himself, something that would keep him busy and distracted from his loss.

Carla glanced at the bookies as she walked past, never able to resist an opportunity to catch sight of Peter going about his daily business. But today it was not Peter that she saw, it was Leanne who, oblivious to Carla as she walked nearby, had eyes for Nick only. They remained fixed on his figure as he retreated down Viaduct Street and then, before he could completely disappear from her view, she followed him, first walking and then jogging to catch up with him.

For a moment, Carla's anger began to rise and she was on the verge of following her, of confronting her, when she remembered that she was free of those worries now, it was none of her concern. With a smile, she hastened her steps away from the past and on towards her future.

Carla peered through the slatted blinds of her office window and onto the sewing floor. She knew the gossips would be salivating over the state of her and Nick's relationship, she had reconciled herself to that, but to see it in person, to know that she was paying her staff good money while they whispered about her private life, was too much for her to bear.

Jumping to her feet, Carla stormed out of the office and confronted them with a sharp "Alright! I've had enough of this incessant buzzing, you're like a swarm of… mosquitoes. So, to set the record straight once and for all, yes, me and Nick have split up. And no, it's none of your business why. If I hear another word about it within these walls–"

"You'll be down the job centre so fast your feet won't touch the ground," Sean finished Carla's well-known threat with his characteristic flourish.

"Yes, thank you, Sean," Carla said as she glared at him. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Mrs Connor," chorused the workers in a dull sing-song tone.

"Good. Now, get on with your work."

Carla turned on her heel, wanting nothing more than to hide away in her office, but instead caught sight of the one person she did not want to talk to walking in the front door.

"Not now, Gail," she rebuffed her almost mother-in-law before the elder Platt could open her mouth to speak and instead stalked towards her office.

"Can I talk to you, Carla?" Gail asked, not easily dissuaded from what was to her a task of the utmost urgency.

"I don't have time," Carla barked, entering her office and slamming the door shut in Gail's face.

Undeterred by Carla's open hostility, Gail opened the office door and let herself in.

"Gail, I–"

"No, Carla, before you start, I need you to understand. Nick made a mistake, please don't punish yourself or your son–"

"Enough!" Carla cried, a dangerous edge to her voice. "No offence, Gail–"

"In my experience," Gail observed wryly. "When someone starts a sentence with 'no offence', they fully intend to give the maximum amount of offence they possibly can."

"You want straight talk, do you?"

"I would appreciate it, yes."

"Okay, then. You asked for it." Carla took a deep breath and, with a wicked glint in her eyes, unleashed on Gail everything she'd been biting her tongue over for months now. "One of the advantages of not being in a relationship with Nick any longer, is not having to put up with your frankly creepy obsession with every single move he makes. He's a grown man, Gail. Time to cut those apron strings."

Carla gasped as she burst out of the factory doors and into the crisp and refreshing air outside. She'd sat alone in her office long after Gail had retreated from their confrontation with that infuriating expression on her face that perfectly combined confusion and innocence, an expression that had made Carla feel as if she'd just kicked a puppy. She had let it fester within her until her insides were wound up so tight that she had to get away, away from the sideways glances, away from the factory, away from everything. She needed to be alone.

And so she walked, without any sense of direction or knowledge of where she was going. She just was. And, for that moment, that was enough for her, that was enough to give her that feeling of freedom from the everyday constraints of her life, a feeling that she had been so desperate for.

Until she spotted Leanne walking towards her.

"Oh, god," she muttered under her breath, her steps faltering for a split-second before her pride forced her to carry on, placing one foot in front of the other with as much swagger as she could muster, and raising her chin in the air that little bit higher.

"Didn't take you long to get bored," Leanne snarled as they passed each other by.

"Excuse me?" Carla stopped and spun around to face Leanne.

"Did you ever love him or was it all some grand plan, some kind of sick revenge for Peter choosing me over you?"

"You have no idea what's gone on between me and Nick," Carla said with a dangerous sort of calm, walking towards Leanne with slow deliberate steps. "Except of course when you tried to come between us."

"Listen, Carla–"

"But that didn't turn out how you planned it, did it now?" Carla sneered. "I mean, how could he want you when he was begging me for another chance, ooh, only a few hours ago."

"You're a vindictive cow," Leanne spat her venom. "I pity Nick, being stuck with you for the rest of his life. He couldn't have chosen a worse mother for his kid if he tried."

"So, apart from playing football on your lunch," Peter said, glancing down at Simon as they walked along the street, hand-in-hand. "What else did you get up to at school?"

"I dunno," Simon shrugged.

"Did you learn anything?"

"Not really."

"You learned nothing in a whole day at school?"

"We had show and tell."

"Oh, right," Peter nodded, happy to latch onto anything positive Simon had to say about school. "And what did you bring?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"That's right. Nothing."

"But why?"

"I dunno," Simon shrugged yet again. "Forgot?"

"If you tell me these things beforehand, I can help you."

"Morgan brought in his new puppy," Simon continued, ignoring his dad's chiding. "It was all soft and wriggly. I got to hold it."

"Did you now?"

"Can we get a puppy, dad?" Simon asked, gazing up at Peter with pleading eyes.

"Oh, mate," Peter baulked at the request. "I don't think a dog will like living in our little flat."

"But we're not living at the flat anymore," Simon protested. "Are we moving back? With mum?"

"No, son, we're not," Peter dashed Simon's hopes. "I mean, we are, just not…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Dad!" Simon cried out in frustration. "Are we moving back or not?"

"Hold up," Peter stopped in his tracks and stared at the two women in the distance, obviously embroiled in a heated exchange. "What's going on here?"

"It's mum and Carla!" Simon cried, pulling on Peter's hand as he tried to run to the pair. "Dad!"

"Stay here," Peter ordered Simon, letting go of his hand and walking towards the action without a second thought.

"Dad!"

"Do not move a muscle," Peter called over his shoulder as he broke into a jog. "Hey!" he called out, to little effect as Leanne, her face twisted into a scowl, made her move with such speed that Carla had little time to react and could merely stagger back as Leanne's hand came into sharp contact with her cheek. "Whoa!"

Carla didn't let Leanne's attack go unpunished; she shoved her opponent hard, squaring up to her, inviting her in for another shot.

"Come on," Carla sneered. "If you think you can take me."

"Break it up!" Peter yelled, running up and forcing himself physically between the pair. "Oi!"

"No!" Carla protested, pushing Peter away. "She doesn't scare me."

"I'll smash your smug face in, you–"

"Lea! Stop it!" Peter cried. "For god's sake, she's pregnant!"

"Pregnant or not, she deserved that slap."

"What? For having something that you so desperately want?" Carla taunted her. "But you can't get it, can you?"

"You bitch!"

Peter caught Leanne just in time as she launched herself at Carla, clawing at the air, her target just beyond her reach thanks to Peter's tight hold on her.

"Geroff me! Peter!"

"Not in front of Si," Peter pleaded with her.

"Si?" Leanne asked, immediately calming down at the mention of his name. "Where's Si?"

"He's just over…" Peter looked towards the footpath he had left his son standing on. "He was… oh, god."

"Peter?" Leanne asked, suddenly fearful. "What's going on?"

"Si!" Peter called out, completely forgetting the catfight and running towards where Simon should have been standing. "Simon!"

"Simon!" Leanne cried, running after Peter. "Peter?"

"He was right here," Peter said, spinning around on the spot, his eyes darting here and there, desperate for any sign of his son. "I left him here. I told him not to move."

"Where is he?" Leanne sobbed. "Where is he, Peter?"

"I don't know," Peter shook his head and stared into Leanne's eyes, the fear in their deep brown depths clear for her to see. "He's gone."