Page 122 of Shootout Daddies
My mother’s jaw tightens. “We’re going back to New York. And until you come to your senses, until you stop this madness, don’t expect us to be part of whatever… performance you’re putting on.”
Her words slice deep, sharper than I want to admit. A part of me still aches to please her, to be enough. But I don’t flinch this time. I don’t bow.
“Mom. Dad.” My voice wavers, but I stand straighter, my hand instinctively smoothing over my stomach.
Her eyes follow the motion. Her breath catches. And then, like a storm breaking across her face—disgust. “You’re pregnant.”
“Yes,” I say quietly.
“With who?” she demands. “Which one of these men is the father?” Her voice carries just enough to silence the air around us, the laughter and chatter dimming as people tune in.
Heat floods my face. My chest tightens. I can feel Rhett stiffen beside me, Hunter moving closer, Landon’s presence a wall at my back. But I don’t look at them. I keep my eyes on hers.
“It’s not like that,” I say, even though it is. Even though it’s exactly like that.
“You’re going to regret this. Just don’t come running back to us when you realize what you threw away.” Her eyes flash.
My father looks away, shame clouding his features, but neither of them says anything else. They turn, walking back through the gate like ghosts retreating into daylight.
The silence they leave behind feels heavy, suffocating. My throat burns. My chest aches. For a second, I think I might collapse.
But then Hunter’s arm slides around my shoulders, Rhett’s hand squeezes mine, and Landon presses a palm to the small of my back.
Brooke appears, fury in her eyes. “Do you want me to?—”
“No,” I say again, softer this time. “They’ve said their piece.”
And so have I.
Tears sting, but I swallow them down. I glance at Chloe across the yard, squealing with joy as confetti rains down, oblivious to the storm that just passed. My chest loosens. My hand curves over my stomach.
This is bigger than them. Bigger than their judgment, their disappointment.
Because while they walked away, I still have everything I need right here.
Hunter’s kiss pressed to my hairline. Rhett’s strength beside me. Landon’s warmth at my back. Brooke’s fierce loyalty. The team’s laughter still echoing across the lawn. Daisy’s camera snapping, Maddie’s hand squeezing mine in silent solidarity.
Family isn’t blood. Family is choice.
And today, surrounded by love, by life, by chaos and cake and confetti, I know I’ve already made mine.
I square my shoulders. Lift my chin. And as Chloe giggles through frosting-smeared cheeks, I smile back, because even with the ache of loss in my chest, I feel it—the fierce, unshakable truth.
I’m not alone. Not anymore.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Landon
The party windsdown in slow, glittering waves. Fairy lights hum overhead, the bounce house deflates in the corner, and the last of the toddlers melt into their parents’ arms—sugar-drunk, face-painted, and sticky with frosting.
The yard that looked like a dream hours ago now looks like the aftermath of a small, pastel-colored war.
I find Ivy in the quiet, away from everyone’s laughter. She’s sitting on the edge of the pool deck, sandals kicked off, her dress brushing her thighs, her bare feet trailing just over the water.
Her hair’s a little messy and her eyes are red—she cried earlier. Hard. And she pretended she was fine after her parents left, but I know better.
I’ve been watching her. Every moment since she stepped into my life, I’ve been watching her.
