Page 176 of Rescuing Ally: Part 2
“Selfish how?”
“Because I wanted you to want this baby for the right reasons. Not because of who his father is, but because he’s ours. Because he exists. Because he chose us despite everything stacked against him.”
The fear in my stomach intensifies, twisting into something that threatens to steal my breath. “Gabe, you’re scaring me.”
“I’m not trying to scare you. I’m trying to figure out how to tell you something that changes everything without making you think it changes everything.”
“Just say it.” The words explode from me with force that surprises us both. A seagull on the railing squawks and takes flight, wings beating frantically as it disappears over the cliff edge. “Whatever it is, just say it instead of dancing around it like it’s going to kill me.”
He stops pacing, turns to face me fully, and I see something in his eyes that takes my breath away. Not fear or uncertainty, but peace. Deep, profound peace mixed with sadness, love, and something that resembles gratitude.
“The baby is Hank’s,” he says quietly.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I can’t have children.”
The second revelation follows the first like thunder after lightning, rolling over me with force that threatens to flatten everything in its path.Can’t have children?
“What?”
“Old injury. Damaged beyond repair. I found out years ago, before I met either of you.” He sits back down beside me, movements careful as if I might shatter. The bench creaks under his weight. “I’m sterile, Ally. Have been for years.”
The words echo in my head, bouncing around like ricochets that can’t find a safe place to land. Sterile. Can’t have children. The baby is Hank’s.
“How long have you known?” My voice sounds distant to my own ears, shock making everything feel unreal.
“Since the first positive test.” He reaches for my hand, holds it like lifeline. “Since Skye told us you were pregnant. I knew immediately it had to be Hank’s.”
“All this time…” I stare at him, seeing weeks of careful restraint in a new light. “You’ve been carrying this alone.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed you to fight for our baby. I needed you to choose him, to want him, to risk everything for him because he mattered to you. Not because he’s Hank’s son, but because he’s your son.” His thumb traces patterns on my skin that speak to apology and explanation intertwined. “If I’d told you right away, every decision would have been about preserving Hank’s legacy instead of creating our family.”
The logic makes sense even as it infuriates me. Because he’s right—knowing the baby was Hank’s would have changed everything. The risks would have felt different, the stakes higher, the decisions weighted with grief instead of hope.
“When were you going to tell me?”
“After you had time to bond with him as your son instead of Hank’s ghost.” His smile holds sadness alongside relief. “I’ve been carrying this for weeks, Ally. Knowing and not being able to share it. Watching you worry about paternity when I knew the answer all along.”
“You bastard.” The words come out without heat. I could be angry, but I’m not. I’ve never been happier. “You manipulative, protective, impossible bastard.”
“You love that about me.”
“This is huge, Gabe. This changes everything.”
“Does it?” He searches my face for signs of regret or resentment. “You’re still pregnant. Still having his son. Stillbuilding a family with me. The only thing that’s changed is certainty about paternity.”
I consider this, testing the truth of it against emotions that feel too big for my chest. He’s right—the love I feel for this baby doesn’t depend on DNA. The future we’re building doesn’t require specific chromosomes to be meaningful.
But knowing he’s Hank’s son…
“You’re carrying Hank’s baby,” Gabe continues, voice soft with wonder that’s been building for weeks. “Part of him that death can’t touch, a legacy that will outlive all of us. He’s not really gone, Ally. He’s going to live on in our memories, in our hearts, and in our family.”
The truth of it hits like sunrise after the longest night, illuminating everything with sudden joy. Hank’s baby. Hank’s son. A piece of the man we lost, growing inside me, preparing to join a world that needs his father’s steadiness and strength.
