Page 77 of Hat Trick Daddies

I just walk faster. I can’t face them right now.

The drive home is a blur. I don’t even bother turning on the radio. The silence is deafening, but somehow, it’s better than the noise of music clashing with my internal chaos.

I replay everything that just happened with Brooks, dissecting his words, his expressions, his tone. His shock was clear, but he wasn’t angry. Did that mean he was okay with this? With me?

I can’t stop picking apart his response, wondering if he was just being kind or if he truly meant what he said. “You’ve got support.” Those words echo in my head, both a comfort and a burden.

The road ahead seems endless, each stoplight stretching into forever. My mind won’t stop swirling with questions. What am I doing? How can I possibly be a mom? How will I explain all of this to my father, the guys, anyone?

The panic swells again, a tidal wave threatening to pull me under. I blink rapidly, forcing the tears back, and take a deep breath.One thing at a time, Ally.

When I pull into the driveway, I notice the house is dark. My dad is in bed. I can sneak inside without facing his questions or concerns.

I slip up to my old bedroom. The walls are still plastered with posters from my teenage years: bands I don’t listen to anymore, movie stars I used to swoon over. My old cheerleading trophy glints on a dusty shelf, a relic of a simpler time.

I sit on the edge of my bed, the worn comforter soft under my fingers. Everything about this room feels so juvenile, so far removed from the chaotic reality of my life now.

Lying back, I stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to the ceiling. My hand drifts to my stomach, resting on it lightly.

I close my eyes, trying to picture myself as a mother, but the image won’t come. All I see is uncertainty, a vast expanse of the unknown stretching out before me.

Tears sting my eyes again as I whisper to the empty room, “What am I going to do?” The silence offers no answers.

Rolling onto my side, I let my fear, worry and sadness pour out into my pillow.

A part of me wants to get right back in the car and go back to the hospital, back to Brooks and the twins, but I can’t let myself give in to that desire right now.

Right now, I need to take some time and figure out what I want, what I need.

Who would have thought that the hyper-independent medical school success would wind up needing love and support from not just one, but three men?

Love.

The word echoes in my mind.

Do I love the twins and Brooks? I don’t actually know what I feel about anything right now.

Feeling worn out by emotion, I roll onto my back and pull the blankets up to my chin.

“Okay, little bean,” I say to the small life growing inside of me. “We have some big decisions to make, but not right now. Right now, we need to get some sleep so that we can start facing all of our fears in the morning.”

Feeling slightly better, I close my eyes and let the heavy hand of exhaustion pull me under.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Nick

I roll over in bed,groggy and disoriented.

The room is dark, the heavy blinds doing their job of keeping out any sliver of moonlight. My body feels sluggish, and for a second, I can’t figure out why I’m awake.

My mind scrambles, half-dreaming, half-conscious. Did I hear something?

Then it hits me the shrill ringtone slicing through the quiet. My phone. I grope blindly for it on the nightstand, my fingers brushing against the smooth edge of the screen.

The brightness stabs at my eyes as I squint to read the name glowing on the screen:Brooks.

“Why is he calling me at this hour?” I mutter, fumbling to answer. My voice comes out hoarse as I croak, “Hello?”

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