Page 63 of Three Months Yesterday

What are my parents going to say?

“Jesus, Madison.”

“I know.”

“Have you had a chance to talk to Mark?”

“Not yet.” I set the mug down, meeting my brother’s eyes. “I need to tell him first, Aiden. Before anyone else finds out. No matter how he and I ended, he deserves to know he’s going to be a father. A chance to decide what he wants to do.”

“Decide what he wants to do?” Aiden’s voice rises slightly. “He doesn’t get to decide whether⁠—”

“Aiden.” My voice is firm, cutting him off. “Don’t go there.” I give him a knowing look; one he can’t argue with. “We all get to decide what we do with our own futures. Just because Mark isn’t here doesn’t mean he loses that right.”

My brother studies me for a long moment, and I can see the war going on behind his eyes. Aiden’s always been protective, sometimes to a fault, but he’s always been on my side, even with our nine-year age gap.

It’s not fair of me to throw his past in his face, especially with how everything turned out, but it’s also not fair of him to think I wouldn’t tell Mark he’s going to be a father.

“I need you to keep this a secret. Just until I can talk to him…and figure out how to tell Mom and Dad.”

His eyes fall to the floor and he squeezes the back of his neck. I can’t imagine the stress he’s been in for the last twenty-four hours. Or how he’s managed to keep the fact an ambulance came to the house yesterday, but I’m grateful to him all the same, and I hate that I’m asking him to keep yet another secret.

“Okay,” he says finally.

Nothing else. No conditions. No real hesitation. Just trust that I know what I’m doing.

Aiden moves around the island and pulls me into a hug so tight I can barely breathe. I cling to him, burying my face in his shoulder, smelling the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the wood smoke from the fireplace at his place.

“I’m here for anything you need,” he murmurs against my hair. “Anything,” he repeats, pulling away from the hug but keeping a grip on my shoulders to make sure I see the sincerity in his eyes. “Call me later, okay?”

“I will.”

Aiden leans forward and presses a kiss to my forehead. It’s such a dad move I can’t help but smile. He releases me and heads for the door, pausing only to look back at Beckett. They exchange a look I can’t interpret, some silent communication passing between them and then Aiden’s gone, the front door quietly clicking shut behind him.

The silence that follows is heavy, filled with everything I need to say.

I turn on my stool to face Beckett only to find him already watching me. Those blue eyes that seem to see everything I want to hide.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” he says before I can speak.

“We do.” I grip the edge of the counter, needing something to hold on to. I don’t think this conversation’s going to go the way either of us want it to. “You deserve to know the full story. To understand how we got here.”

Beckett pushes off the counter and crosses the space between us, stopping just close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. He reaches out, his thumb brushing gently across my cheekbone.

“You don’t owe me anything, Madison.”

“I do.” The words catch in my throat and I have to clear it to continue. “Mark and I grew up together.” A self-deprecating laugh slips free at the words. “Small-town living, you grow up with everyone around you.”

“Madison,” Beckett murmurs, his voice strained with an emotion I don’t want to acknowledge.

“We started dating when we were eighteen,” I rush to say. “Seniors in high school.” I look down at my hands, twisting them together in my lap. “We were together for ten years. Everyone assumed we’d get married, have kids, the whole thing. I assumed we would too, even though we never actually talked about it.”

Beckett doesn’t move, doesn’t try to interrupt again. He just waits, his presence steady and patient.

“The last year or so, things just…faded. We stopped making plans. Stopped trying. We were both so busy with work, with our own lives…we forgot to make room for each other.” I look up, meeting his eyes. “When we broke up, I wasn’t even that upset. Not about the breakup anyway. I felt guilty because of the relief. Like I’d just been waiting for him to finally say the words I think we’d both been denying.”

“Madison.” Beckett’s voice is soft. No judgment or pity in the one word, just understanding.

“I need to tell him about the baby,” I press on, needing to get this out. “We haven’t talked since he moved out. He took a job in Nashville, but he deserves to know he’s going to have a son. He deserves the chance to be involved…or not. I can’t make that choice for him.”