Page 45 of Pieces

“We did, but looks like I’m super fertile and your sperm hates being told what to do.”

I snort a laugh, but it quickly morphs into a groan, because how the fuck is this happening.

Then I feel a warmth bringing me back to the present.

She’s close, her perfume washing over me, soothing me. It’s like a balm, and the tension that’s been winding through me begins to loosen. I glance up, and she’s kneeling there, her hands resting on my thighs, concern etched into her eyebrows.

“I know this is a lot. I’ve been where you are already.” She exhales an empty laugh that could also be a sob. “I still am, honestly. But I need you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. I’m keeping the baby, but you don’t owe me anything.”

The idea of her struggling, like my mom did, carrying too much weight all by herself, twists something inside me, deep and unrelenting. I don’t want that for her. Ihatethe thought of her going through this alone, shouldering everything when I’m right here.

I sit up straighter, my hands dropping to cover hers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say firmly as I pull her hands closer to me. “You’re not doing this alone, Daphne. Not if I can help it.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Hudson…” she starts but falters, and her eyes glass over again. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I do have to say it,” I reply, leaning in, holding her gaze. “I’m saying it because I want to. Because you deserve more than carrying this by yourself. Both of you do. And I’m not letting you do this alone.” Even if her dad is going to kill me, but she doesn’t need to hear that right now.

Her lips part, but no words come out. She looks down at our hands, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks as a tear falls. God, she’s so beautiful. I hate seeing her cry, but she’s still just as beautiful when she does.

“You mean that?” She sniffs, pulling her hand away to wipe her cheek.

My grip on her other hand tightens as I nod. “I mean it, Daphne. I’m here for you, for everything. I’ll be your friend, cheerleader, snack bitch, and shoulder to cry on. Whatever you need.” Because the truth is, it’s the least I can do. The most is to be there for the baby and her in a way my dad never was. It doesn’t matter if I have no idea what I’m doing. It also doesn’t matter if I’m scared shitless, which I am 100%. I’ll do better, I’ll learn. I have to. For them.

Her shoulders drop, the tension she’s been holding on to easing slightly. She exhales a shaky breath, one that feels like it’s been trapped in her chest for days, maybe weeks. “I didn’t think… I mean, I wasn’t sure you’d—” she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell her softly. “I should’ve been here sooner.” I would’ve been here sooner if I’d gotten my head out of my ass and approached Daphne all those weeks ago.

She glances up at me, and I see something shift in her expression, something lighter, less guarded than she’s been all night so far. It’s fragile, like she’s testing the idea of trusting me, and I get it, we’re strangers. We might’ve spent an amazing night together, but we need to know each other better to feel more comfortable.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice trembling. It tugs at my heart.

“Me too,” I reply without hesitation.

This is not something I thought I’d have to deal with. Have I ever thought about settling down or having kids? No, I’ve always been the guy who lives in the moment. The only thing I was worried about this year was my friends graduating, or winning football games, scrapbook club, and now all of that seems really fucking small by comparison.

Daphne yawns, and I take that as my cue to leave. Even though I don’t think I want to, I force myself to stand. “I’ll, uh, leave you to sleep.”

“Okay,” she says, and I turn toward the door, when she says, “Hudson?”

“Yeah?” I face her, ready to do whatever she asks of me.

She hesitates, and I watch those full lips part and close, over and over, before she smiles a weak smile and says, “Goodnight.”

There’re a million things I want to say to her, and honestly, my head’s still such a mess. I really just want to find my best friend right now. “Night, Daphne.”

The cold bites through my sweatshirt as I stop near the quad, my chest tight and nerves on edge. I let out a shaky breath, watching it fog in the air. This is real. A kid. A tiny, helpless person who’s going to need me for everything. Someone I’m supposed to protect and take care of.

The thought slams into me like a freight train: I have no idea how to do that. What the hell do I know about being a dad?

Mom’s voice rings in my head:“You don’t have to have all the answers, Hudson, but you better be ready to step up when it counts.”She always said that when I got cocky or lazy as a kid with football or school. She wasn’t wrong then, and she’s not wrong now.

I think about her raising me and Rory on her own after Dad walked out. She made sacrifices I didn’t fully understand until I got older, but I know it wasn’t easy. My inspiration comes from her, not him. Her strength and love when raising me and my sister.

Fuck, raising a kid. That’s going to be me.

I drag a hand through my hair, letting out a rough sigh as my gaze shifts toward the stadium in the distance. The bright lights are still glowing from tonight’s game, and I can almost hear the faint cheers from earlier. That’s supposed to be my future, the NFL, a contract, the dream I’ve chased my entire life. But now? Now I can’t even see past the next week, let alone a football career.

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