Page 124 of Forking the Billionaire

It was easy to let him be the adult, to let him fix my problems or hold my hand, to protect me. It was my turn to protect him.

A stinging sensation pricked behind my eyes.

“Get out, Gabriel,” I said. “I don’t want you here.”

As much as I wanted to mean it, it was a lie.

“Es—”

“There’s plenty of time before the baby comes to figure everything out,” I said. “Gabe, it’s your wedding night.”

Each blink was a battle, a feeble attempt to hold back the dam of despair threatening to break.

He furrowed his brows ever so slightly, then he left.

And I felt even more alone than I had before he’d arrived.

The next morning,I spent a little extra time on my hair. Look good, feel good. Maybe looking like I had myself together would help prove to my brother that I had everything under control. If it made Jasper feel worse by showing him what he was missing out on, even better.

But the effort wasn’t for either of them. It was for me.

Looking hot and competent, I entered the breakfast area at the resort.

I steeled myself to see Jasper, but he wasn’t here yet. Even better, I’d be all situated before he arrived, giving me more time to mentally prepare.

And then I’d ignore him, proving his betrayal couldn’t hurt me.

Pretending I wasn’t one sneeze from falling to pieces.

I smiled and slipped in between Oscar and Juno. Everything went fine for a bit, eating and small talk.

“We heard your news,” Juno said. “Congratulations!”

Surprised, I said, “Thank you.”

“A baby is so exciting,” Layana said, squeezing me in a hug. “Congrats. I’m going to be an aunt. You’re going to be a mom.”

“Yes,” I said. “Thanks.”

Had they somehow overheard my fight with Jasper? Had he told everyone? Neither option felt right. I was missing a key piece of information here.

More congratulations were offered. It was surreal and also kind of freeing having everyone know.

Eventually people started to head upstairs to pack up for the plane ride home—Layana’s sisters, Chester and Juno. Morgan rose from her seat and stretched like she and Oscar were about to go, too.

I poked Oscar in the shoulder.

He turned a scowly glare at me. It was the kind of glare that probably made most people wither away, but I grew up with a grump. It didn’t faze me.

“Where’s your brother?” I asked.

His sourness softened slightly, which was scarier than the scowl. A small flit of worry wedged itself between my ribs.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Obviously not,” I said.

“He went home last night.”

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