Page 152 of Ink Me Three Times
This is hard.
I don’t know what this means, but I know it’s going to be life changing.
But truth be told, I guess we do need to do this.
My hands shake as I set the phone down on the kitchen counter. Pickle lifts his head from the couch, watching me as if he knows I’m about to walk into something dangerous.
I nearly don’t go.
I nearly throw my phone into the laundry basket with the rest of the mess I’ve been pretending to fold for what might as well be forever. I nearly crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head and pretend none of this is happening. That I’m not four months pregnant. That I’m not carrying triplets. That I’m not caught in the gravitational pull of three men who each have the potential to either save me or destroy me completely.
But I do go.
Because part of me needs to settle this.
Because no matter how scared I am, how cracked down the center I feel, I’m not a coward…
The bell above the shop door jingles like it always does. Familiar. Almost comforting.
But everything else is different.
The lights are on low. Tools packed away. The front is cleaner than usual, like someone actually tried to make it presentable. And standing in the middle of it, in some kind of terrifying dream team reunion?
Freddie. Timothy. Mitchell.
They all look up when I walk in.
Mitchell’s the first to drop his gaze. The weight of it might pin me in place if he stares too long. Timothy just watches me, his arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable but intense. And Freddie… Freddie gives me the smallest nod.
An invitation.
I take a breath. Then another. Then I step fully inside and let the door click shut behind me.
“Okay,” I say. My voice is hoarse. “What’s going on?”
The silence is thick, electric. None of them rush to fill it. They just look at me, like they’ve made up their minds about something, and now I’m the one catching up.
It makes my pulse thud in my ears.
I brace for heart break. For one of them, or all of them, to say they’re out. That this is too much. That I’m too much.
But that’s not what I get.
Instead, Freddie clears his throat and takes a small step toward me. “We’ve been talking… about the babies. And you arenotalone. No matter what you decide to do.”
I have to warn them.
It’s only right.
My throat tightens. “Jesse knows too,” I say, voice rough. “He found the ultrasound photos. I didn’t mean for him to… I wasn’t ready.”
Their faces shift. Not with judgment. Just… concern. Protective instinct. Especially from Mitchell, who steps a little closer, his jaw tight.
“Was he awful about it?” he asks, eyes scanning mine bracing for the worst.
“No,” I whisper. “Not really. Just hurt. Blindsided. But he doesn’t know about you guys.”
“Well, I’m here for you,” Mitchell promises. He looks up at me, eyes bloodshot and honest. “I’m not running. Not from you. Not from them. Not from this. I shouldn’t have said what I did before, and I will do whatever I can to make it up to you.”
