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And Calle would be devastated.
Yet, he deserved to know.
“There’s something else,” she started with a trembling voice. More silence as everyone waited. Beside her, Joel seemed to hold his breath as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it. Closed it. Until finally, she lifted her head to gaze across the table at Calle. At the man who had captured her heart in her youth. At the man whose fate was now tangled with hers for the rest of their lives.
Another deep breath, and when she spoke, her voice seemed far too quiet. “Liam is not Maisy’s father.” Calle’s entire body froze. “You are.”
Skaja’s head snapped toward Calle, her mouth open in shock. And Calle…
He stared wide-eyed at Nyana, a plethora of emotions passing over his face. Shock. Disbelief. Doubt. Panic. Uncertainty. And then the moment realization crossed his features, she knew her words finally sank in.
Pain. Hurt. Sadness. Anger.
Devastation.
Nyana’s heart ached as she watched Calle slowly crumble. The red rim around his eyes indicated he was seconds away from breaking down. His gaze darted toward Joel, and when he spoke, his voice cracked. “You married her because I wasn’t going to.”
Joel said nothing but instead focused on their intertwined hands with brows pulled together. She already knew that was only partially the reason, that in truth, he had cared for her for a long time. But he didn’t refute his friend.
A choked sob escaped Calle’s throat. “You were always the better person in our friendship. I…I…” Another sob left his lips. He covered his mouth with his hand before standing abruptly. Without another word, he strode from the room, Skaja at his heels with concern written across her features.
Nyana released a terse breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. The heat of regret flushed through her body. Regret for so many things, but most of all for Calle’s pain. Had she made the right decision by telling him the truth?
“That went as well as could be expected,” Joel commented beside her.
“It was a disaster.”
“Exactly. There was no immediate positive outcome for this. We didn’t exactly expect him to jump up and down with giddiness.”
“No.” She sighed. “I suppose not. I want to check on him.”
She released Joel’s hand and hugged her torso as she quietly followed in the direction Calle and Skaja had disappeared. When she stepped into the hallway, her heart sank to her toes when she found him slumped on the stairs as if he hadn’t been able to make it any farther, his shoulders shaking and his head in his hands. Skaja sat beside him, rubbing his back and murmuring soothing words. Long, golden-white feathers from her wings brushed the staircase like the elegant train of a future queen. Beautiful. Regal.
Nyana hugged the doorway, wondering what to do. What to say. They hadn’t noticed her.
“My best friend is taking care of my own child!” Calle wept into his hands, his shoulders still shaking. “What kind of father am I?”
“You didn’t know,” Skaja soothed, showing a kind, gentle side of herself Nyana had never seen until now. “You couldn’t have known.”
“But I should have! I am a terrible friend. I am a terrible father. I’m terrified I’m going to be a terrible husband to you.”
Skaja scoffed. “You are ridiculous. You will be the best husband. We’ll be learning together.”
Calle grasped onto Skaja’s hand, holding it against his heart. His voice shook. “I hate Liam. I hate him. He took so much away from me. Five years of Maisy’s life being the latest blow. My brother is dead, and he’s still terrorizing me from the grave.”
“I’m sorry,” Skaja murmured as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close.
“Are you angry with me?”
“No. Just shocked.”
They murmured quietly to each other before Calle kissed Skaja’s palm. Nyana realized she was intruding on a private moment and quietly backed away. She returned to Joel, who stood beside a window, hands in his pockets and a troubled expression on his face. Surely, he worried over the state of his friend as well, but there was nothing they could do.
She took his hand, and they traded a meaningful look full of worry, regret, and hope. “It’s time to go. I think he needs a little time to process this.”
He searched her eyes, his gentle fingers caressing her cheek. “How are you? I know this wasn’t easy.”
Leaning into his comforting touch, she sighed. “I don’t know. I feel sick to my stomach.”
