Kei glanced over from where he was adjusting his strap. “Trying to be.”
Syd smiled.... small, knowing. “Yeah. I noticed. You’ve been over here a lot more. Helping with… stuff.”
I felt the shift in the air. Holland paused mid-stretch. Jake pretended to check his strings.
Kei shrugged. “Just helping out where I can.”
Syd nodded slowly. “That’s sweet. You’ve always had that hero complex, though. Remember sophomore year? You fixed my bike chain in the rain because I cried about it.”
Kei chuckled low. “Yeah. And you still owe me for that flat tire.”
She laughed. Light. But her eyes flicked to me. “Seriously, though. It’s good you’re stepping up. Cal’s got a lot on his plate with the baby coming. Hadley probably appreciates the extra hands.”
I capped the water bottle harder than needed. “She’s fine.”
Syd raised a brow. “Oh, I know. Just saying. Kei spends a lot of time at your place lately. It’s like he’s part of the furniture now.”
Holland snorted. “Leave it, Syd.”
“What? I’m being nice.” She leaned forward, voice dropping like concern. “I mean, pregnancy’s tough. And Cal, you’re out here grinding. It makes sense she’d lean on someone who’s… available.”
The word hung. Available.
Kei shot me a look, quick, neutral. “We’re good, man.”
“Yeah,” I said. Voice flat. “We’re good.”
But the seed was planted. Burrowing deep.
That night I came home and found Hadley in the kitchen, massive island covered in takeout containers, her picking at pad thai with a fork. Eli was upstairs in his room, probably gaming.
I set my keys down. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She looked up. Tired but not angry.
“I cleared tomorrow. The appointment. I’ll go.”
She paused mid-bite. “Really?”
“Yeah. 10 a.m., right? The one with the glucose test?”
She nodded slowly. “Yeah. You don’t have to...”
“I want to.” Lie. Or half-lie. I needed to. After Syd’s words gnawed at me all afternoon.
“Okay.” She set the fork down. “Thanks.”
The next morning, we drove to the OB’s office in silence. Traffic on Sunset was a crawl. Hadley fiddled with the radio until she landed on some soft indie station.
In the waiting room I flipped through a magazine without reading. When they called her name, I followed. Sat in the corner chair while the nurse drew blood for the test.
The doctor came in, smiled at us both. “Dad’s here today. Good to see.”
I nodded. Didn’t speak.
They did the ultrasound. Gel on her stomach. Wand pressing. The heartbeat filled the room, fast, steady.
“Everything looks great,” the doctor said. “Baby’s measuring right on track. Active little one.”
