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“So, the thing is…” I clear my throat. “I know a lot about how blood isn’t the only thing that can make someone family. Because of our shitty dad, but also because… we don’t have the same mom.”
Malice’s eyebrows shoot up, and Vic’s furrow as they take that in. I run a hand through my hair and press on, needing to get it out.
“My mom was different from yours, someone else our dear old dad treated like shit. But in the end, that woman died, and Diana offered to raise me.” I clear my throat. “I’ve known for a long time, but I just never wanted to bring it up. I guess I didn’t want you to see me as anything other than your true brother. Yourfullbrother.”
I shrug a little awkwardly, waiting for their response. Luckily, the thing about Malice is that he doesn’t hide his emotions well at all. He looks confused for a second and then surprised.
“What the fuck would that matter?” he asks finally. “You’ve been with us forever, and that’s more important than anything else.”
Vic nods. “And Mom loved you, so that’s what counts. We could see how much she cared, even if you weren’t her son by blood.”
Something aches in my chest at the memory of the woman I’ll always consider my mother. “She was a fucking saint,” I murmur.
Malice nods, his jaw clenching. His eyes burn in the way they always do when we talk about our mom, gleaming with love and fierce devotion. Vic makes a sound of affirmation, and when I glance over at him, he holds my gaze, speaking in a low voice.
“You’re ourbrother,” he says. “No matter if we share two parents or one. Family doesn’t have to mean blood. It’s about who loves you.”
“A-fucking-men,” Malice agrees. “And about who you can trust to have your back. That’s always been you, Ransom.”
Willow lets out a soft sob, stepping forward and burying her head against my chest. I wrap my arms around her, feeling her tears soak into my shirt.
“I told you,” she whispers. “I told you they wouldn’t care.”
“I know.” My voice turns raspy as my throat goes tight. “You were right, angel. Of course you were.”
Something I didn’t realize I’d been carrying falls away from my shoulders as I tangle my fingers in my beautiful girl’s hair, holding my brother’s gazes over her head.
I know my father only told me the truth about my real mother as a way to fuck with me, a way to get into my head and make me doubt myself. And for years, I tried to tell myself that there was a good reason not to share this knowledge with my brothers. I told myself it didn’t matter, or that I didn’t want to burden them with it.
But the truth is, I was scared.
Some part of me, however small, always feared that they would see me differently or treat me differently if they knew I was only their half-brother.
I’m relieved to have it out in the open now though. And I’m even more relieved that they don’t care. I didn’t really think they would, but there was always a part of me that felt a little ‘less than’ because I wasn’t as closely connected to them as they thought I was.
But after hearing Willow worry that we would turn on her or her unborn baby because the father was a monster, it clarified everything for me.
Parentage truly doesn’t matter.
Leaning back a little, I brush Willow’s cheeks with my thumbs, wiping away the tears there. Her brown eyes are swollen and bloodshot from crying, but just like I told her when we woke up earlier, she still looks beautiful to me. She always fucking will.
“No matter what you decide to do, we’ll support you,” I tell her, tucking her tangled hair behind her ears. “We’ll love you. And if you decide to keep this baby, we’ll love it too.”
“Truly?” Her lower lip quavers, and she traps it between her teeth.
“Of course.” I chuckle, and although there’s no humor in it, thereiswarmth. “My brothers and I had a terrible father, I don’t remember my actual mother, and your grandmother is one of the most god-awful people I’ve ever met. But all of us turned out okay. Hell, you turned out so much better than okay. You’re the best person I know, angel. We love every damn thing about you, and we definitely don’t hold Olivia against you. So why would we hold Troy against your baby? Your blood family may be fucked up, but you have a real family.” I jerk my chin, encompassing myself and my brothers in a single gesture. “Us. We’re right here with you, and we always will be.”
She leans her face into my palm, closing her eyes like she’s trying to ground herself through that touch. Some of the tension slides out of her shoulders, and as they slump a little, I share a look with my brothers over her head.
We can’t fix this in one day, and we definitely can’t heal her trauma with one conversation.
But no matter what happens, our family will stick together.
* * *
After we finally break apart,we take our time getting cleaned up and properly dressed. My brothers and I all watch Willow like hawks to make sure she doesn’t suffer another bout of morning sickness or seem to be falling back into a panic.
Once we’ve gotten some breakfast in our systems, we decide that Willow has had enough excitement for one day. She insists she doesn’t need to be coddled, putting her foot down and refusing to go back to bed when there’s still planning to do.
