She opened her mouth. Closed it again. And for once, she didn’t argue.
I didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.
I held her gaze and let her see it.
That I meant what I said.
I wasn’t trying to trap her. Wasn’t trying to fix something that couldn’t be fixed.
I wanted her warm. Safe. Somewhere she didn’t have to carry all this weight by herself.
“You don’t have to talk,” I said quietly. “Or explain anything. Just be. If that’s easier. I won’t say a word to Garrett or Beckett until you’re ready.”
She stared at me for a long moment. And I couldseeit happening.
All the thoughts warring behind her eyes.
Pride. Fear. That bone-deep kind of exhaustion that doesn’t come from lack of sleep, but from holding everything in for too long.
But then she nodded.
Just once. Barely more than a breath.
“Okay,” she whispered.
And something in me finally let go.
I’d been holding my own breath without realizing.
We didn’t speak as we walked to my truck. Didn’t need to.
I opened the door for her, helped her up. She didn’t argue, didn’t crack a joke, didn’t shrug me off as usual.
She climbed in, folded her hands in her lap, and stared out the window like she could disappear into the night if she tried hard enough.
I slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine.
But my thoughts were stuck back on that sidewalk.
Pregnant.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Riley
The driveback to the cabin felt long. The silence was heavy in a way I really didn’t like, every mile of winding road through the pines pressing harder against my chest.
Asher didn’t say much after the shock wore off. He kept his eyes on the road, hands tight on the wheel. His jaw clenched as if he was trying not to break apart.
I wanted to fill the silence, to apologize for my brashness, to explain, but nothing felt like the right thing to say.
I hadn’t meant to tell him in that manner. I hadn’t even meant to tell him at all. Not yet. Not until I was sure.
Not until I’d figured out how to make sense of the chaos myself.
But now the words were out. Real. Irrevocable.
I was pregnant.