“Ms. Haywood, good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Okonkwo.” She moves to the foot of my bed, checking something on one of the monitors. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by a truck.”
“SUV, actually, but close enough.” She gives me a sympathetic smile. “You sustained a moderate concussion, some bruising to your ribs, and a sprained wrist. All things considered, you are very fortunate.”
“And my baby?” I feel three pairs of eyes on me. I don’t look at any of them.
Dr. Okonkwo’s expression softens with understanding. “The baby is perfectly healthy. We did an ultrasound while you were unconscious. Strong heartbeat, no signs of distress.” She pauses. “You’re about seventeen weeks along, which means the baby is well-protected at this stage. But I want to keep you overnight for observation, and you’ll need to take it easy for the next couple of weeks.”
The relief hits so hard I nearly sob. “Thank you.”
She nods, making notes on her tablet. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Try to rest.” She glances around at the three people crowded around my bed. “Don’t let her get too worked up.”
The door clicks shut behind her, and Jessa speaks first. “You’re four months pregnant, and you didn’t tell us?”
I can’t look at her. Can’t look at any of them.
“Jas.” Meesha moves closer, her expression shifting from shock to hurt. “We talk every day. How could you keep this from us?”
“I was going to tell you.” The words sound weak even to me. “I just... I needed time to figure things out.”
“Figure what out?” Jessa’s hand is still on my arm, but her grip has loosened. “Are you okay? Do you know the gender? Who’s the father?”
Antonio’s stare burns into the side of my face. I sense the tension radiating off him, and the questions building behind his silence.
“It’s a girl.” The only question I can safely answer. “And I’m okay. I just... it’s complicated.”
“I need a minute.” Antonio’s voice is strained. “With Jasmine.”
Meesha turns to him, frowning. “Why?”
“Meesh.” I force myself to smile. “It’s okay. Please.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but Jessa is reaching for her arm. “We’ll get coffee,” Jessa says, and leans down to press a kiss to my forehead. “But we’re talking about this later. All of it.”
The door closes behind them, and then it’s just me, Antonio, and the beep of the heart monitor filling the silence.
“Is it mine?”
I could lie. Could protect myself from whatever comes next. But I’m tired of carrying this weight alone.
“Yes.”
Antonio releases a shaky exhale. “Mine. O bebê é meu.”
I don’t know what I expected. Anger, maybe. Denial. Accusations of trapping him. Instead, he sits there in silence, and I watch the reality of it settle over him.
“I was going to tell you,” I say. “I just... I didn’t know how. And I was scared.”
He looks up at that. “Scared of what?”
Of you not wanting us. Of being an obligation you feel stuck with. Of opening my heart and watching you walk away.
Before I can answer, there’s a knock at the door. It swings open and Connor backs through it, arms loaded with a brown paper bag and a carrier of drinks. Meesha slips in beside him, one hand on his arm. Jaxon follows with a second bag, Jessa tucked close to his side. Kamal brings up the rear, balancing a stack of takeout containers.
“Vending machine food is garbage,” Connor says, setting everything on the nearest chair. “So we hit that diner on Fifth.” He crosses to me. “Good to see you awake, Jas. You scared the hell out of us.”
“I’m getting that a lot tonight.”
