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“Always,” Grayson adds, a fierce protectiveness in his eyes.
Brielle’s breath catches, her eyes glistening. And just like that, we’re more than a tangle of arms and shared kisses. We’re an unbreakable unit, poised to weather any storm.
The door swings open with a creak that slices through the murmurs of our cocooned world. Brielle’s father stands on the threshold, his presence like a cold draft. He’s a towering figure, dressed in a suit that looks out of place against the sterile white of the hospital room. His eyes scan over us, a scowl etching deep lines around his mouth.
“Jim,” I breathe out, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Dad,” Brielle rasps, her fingers tightening around mine. Conrad’s brow furrows, and Grayson’s posture stiffens. There’s an unspoken understanding that this man’s arrival changes everything.
“Didn’t expect to find a party,” Jim says, his tone laced with sarcasm as he strides into the room. The tension ripples, a tangible force that threatens to choke us.
“Sir,” Grayson starts, but Jim holds up a hand.
“Save it.”
Before any of us can speak again, the door opens a second time. A nurse, clipboard in hand, steps in. She wears a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says, glancing at the array of faces before her. “But we need to update our records. Can anyone tell me who the baby’s father is?”
Silence falls heavy, a blanket smothering the room. The question hangs in the air, unanswered, as if suspended by the collective shock that grips us.
Each of us exchanges glances, unreadable emotions flickering across our faces. Brielle’s grip on my hand slackens, her breath hitching in her throat.
“Excuse me?” Conrad’s voice finally breaks the stillness, yet it’s void of its usual confidence. The nurse looks between us, unaware she’s dropped a bombshell that now sits ticking in the center of the room.
I shake my head, trying to dispel the fog of confusion. “What do you mean?” I manage, my voice a mere rasp.
“Brielle fainted because she’s…she’s seven weeks pregnant.”
The words sound foreign to my ears, a secret spilling out that wasn’t meant to be shared.
The nurse blinks at us, her smile waning. She checks her clipboard again as if it holds some kind of truth that can clear this mess. But nothing changes. The question remains, a gaping hole in the middle of the room we’re all tiptoeing around.
Brielle’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide and bright with unshed tears. They dart from face to face—Conrad’s stoic mask, Grayson’s clenched jaw, back to mine. A silent scream echoes in her gaze, a tumultuous storm of emotion that she had planned to weather with us in private.
“Levi…” Her whisper is barely audible, a plea for understanding or maybe forgiveness. Her shoulders slump as if the weight of the world has settled upon them, crushing her with the enormity of what lies ahead.
“Is it true?” Jim’s voice booms, shattering the fragile quiet. “All of you?”
My heart pounds a frantic rhythm against my ribs. I glance at Conrad; he steps forward, a shield of calm.
“Yes, sir.” Conrad’s voice is even, respectful. “It’s true.” He holds Jim’s gaze, unflinching. “We all care for Brielle deeply. There was never any intention of disrespect.”
The air hangs heavy. Tense. Waiting. Brielle’s breath hitches, a sound that tugs at my insides. Her father’s eyes are storms, swirling with confusion, betrayal, a hundred unspoken questions.
“Care?” The word is a bullet, fired with disbelief. “You call this caring?”
Conrad doesn’t waver. “Yes, we do.” He looks at Brielle then, his commitment a silent vow. “More than anything.”
Brielle
A fist flies. Conrad’s head snaps back, body following, crashing to the ground with a sound that echoes off sterile walls. My voice rips from my throat, raw, desperate.
“Stop it, Dad! Please!”
The room spins into chaos. Levi’s on his feet, Grayson too, their bodies tense, ready. But it’s me they’re worried about, not Conrad sprawled on the floor, not even my father, whose chest heaves like a bull after the charge.
“Sir, you can’t do that here!” The nurse’s words cut through the din, her hand already pressing the security button with an urgency that matches the pounding of my heart.
