We reach the citrus grove, and for some wicked reason I decide to stay and see what happens between him and Snow. I go down the steps, Theo right on my heels.
I knock hard on the basement door, three heavy raps. From behind it, faint piano music drifts out.
A moment later the door swings open, and I freeze.
He’s standing there in a silky white-and-blue shirt left unbuttoned over a plain white top, fitted blue jeans that make him look unfairly good, and his hair is loose, spilling down in snowy strands around his sharp face. Damn, he’s sexy. And dangerous, because letting him in could bring me exactly what I fear most:thissituation.
I shift half a step to the side so he can see who’s standing behind me.
Snow’s face rarely shows emotions like surprise, embarrassment, or shame, but now something flickers in his eyes.
Theo, hunched a little behind me, blurts out, "I’m sorry for showing up here after I promised I wouldn’t, but I have something important to tell you. Can we talk for a moment?"
Without a word, Snow steps back to give him room.
Theo strides inside quickly, decisively. I do the same, just as swiftly and just as stubbornly, pushing into the basement after him.
Theo drops onto the couch, and I take the same couch but the opposite end, because if this is going to be confrontational, then I’m all in.
"This is supposed to be a private conversation!" the omega snaps, throwing me an irritated glare.
I stay silent, jaw tight, wearing my most stubborn expression.
Snow’s gaze shifts between us, his face unreadable, but I know on some level he isn’t happy about this.
The silence stretches. Neither Snow nor I say a word, until Theo hisses in frustration and bursts out, "Fine. If this is how it’s going to be, then so be it. I’ll say what I came to say, and you can’t stop me." His last words are clearly aimed at me.
"I’m pregnant, Snow. And you’re the father."
If I thought I had any idea what this was about, I was dead wrong. The words hit me like a slap across the face, hard enough that I flinch.
Never, never, never… in my wildest nightmares did I prepare myself for something like this.
But if anyone expected Snow to look shocked, they’d be wrong too. Theo showing up here doesn’t exactly thrill him, but the pregnancy? I’m almost sure he already knew. His face stays calm, silent, unchanging.
Mine doesn’t. My lips press into a line as my pulse kicks up. Fury surges in me, aimed squarely atSnow.
He got another omega pregnant? My eyes squeeze shut as I fight the rush of rage and disappointment crashing through me.
"You’re not going to say anything?" Theo presses, his voice rising. "Do you even realize what kind of position I’m in? My relationship with Tim has finally started to heal these last three weeks. For the first time in years, it feels good again, like we’ve rebooted. I want to keep that. He’s the sire of my children, and I care about him so much."
Snow stays silent. Of course he does. Theo knows him well enough not to expect otherwise, so he just keeps going.
"I don’t know if you watched the news yesterday. Mark Ferguson was escorted out of his own committee by the police, accused of rape and harassment. His career is over. And nowTim is the leading candidate for state senator." He pauses deliberately. "He’s stepping into the spotlight. The last thing he needs is a scandal about his husband carrying someone else’s child."
Theo lowers his head, pressing his hands over his face.
"I thought we were finished, Snow. I thought it was over. And now this? You, of all people—you who supposedly know the future—you let this happen? I know you could have stopped it, I know you can feel these things. Why, Snow? Why would you do this to me?"
When he lifts his face again, tears streak down his cheeks.
"You know I could never end this pregnancy. Not after the years Tim and I spent trying, praying for one line on a test, mourning loss after loss. It’s only been three weeks, but I can’t, simply can’t, end it. The question is, what happens now, Snow?"
The air grows unbearable. This really is a private conversation, too personal. It’s crushing me. For reasons I can’t explain, tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
I stand abruptly, turning toward the door, desperate to hide my face. Something inside me cracks, breaks, collapses.
I shouldn’t be here. This was a mistake. My stubbornness dragged me into a place I never belonged, and it kills me now.
