From the corner, I pipe up, “She’s right, so she is.”
“No, she isn’t, Rowan. It won’t change anything,” Sean snarls, walking over to her as if to protect her from me.
“I meant that we haven’t talked about what our reactions will be. What to expect based on what that envelope says.” I nod at it, my arms still crossed to keep my hands from fidgeting the way Willow’s are. She’s tearing at her shirt, pulling a thread as far out as she can, winding it around her finger.
“Maybe that would help ease some of the tension. I’ll go first.” I swallow hard, afraid of the reception I might get, afraid to step out on a ledge. Looking at those green eyes and those fidgeting fingers, knowing all the ways I’d share just to have a piece of her, I have to be done being afraid. It’s time to be vulnerable, to let what happens happen. I walk over to her and squat down,cupping her face in my hands, and tell her gently, “I don’t care what the results say.”
Sean lets out a chuckle at the same time Willow lets out a breath I didn’t know she was holding and sags into my hands, leaning her cheek against my palm. “You don’t?” Sean barks. “You’re setting your ego aside? You must have it bad.”
I glance back at him to shut him up, the tip of my tongue touching the corner of my mouth. I nod at him and agree, “Aye, I guess I must if I’m willing to put up with your need to fill every silence just to be around Willow. But, love, I—” I turn back to Willow, my fingers cradling her jaw. “I know I’ve been reluctant to have any part in this, and that’s because I was afraid you’d turn me out, truth be told. But if you’re willing to have me, I don’t care if that means you’ll have them too. If you’ll be with me, even if the triplets are Declan’s or Sean’s, then I’m happy to raise the spawn of theseeejits. Just for a chance to be with you, Willow.”
Willow’s eyes linger on me, softer now, like she can see something behind the mask. I shift my stance, hating how exposed I feel under that look.Don’t dig. Don’t try to understand me. You’ll only find reasons to walk away.
Declan exhales through his nose, the sound controlled but telling. “It’s your choice, Willow. Whatever the answer says, I’m willing to?—”
“I don’t want to know,” Willow blurts out.
“You…don’t?” Sean asks, his grin frozen on his face, the unsureness easing in. For so long, I’ve been the hesitant one. It feels good to see it on someone else for once.
Willow shakes her head. Her curls are pulled into a messy bun, wisps falling against her damp temples. “It doesn’t change anything for me. They’re mine, no matter what that paper says.” She presses a palm to her belly, almost defensively. “And if one of you is their father, then y’all are still here. Y’all have been here. That matters more than biology.”
Declan clears his throat, the sound sharp. “It’s not about a label,love. Biology is more than just that. There are implications—medical, legal, emotional?—”
“Declan.” She cuts him off gently, but firmly. “Please. Don’t make this about medicine. Make it about us. You said that it was my choice.”
Sean drops into a chair, legs sprawled wide, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “You know how I feel.” He sighs. “I meant it when I said I was in before. But I agree with Declan. There are other aspects to consider.”
Willow doesn’t budge. “We can cross those bridges when we come to them. For now, if you’re saying you’re in, then you’re in on not knowing.” She looks at me, finds me still on my knees waiting for her, and she smiles. “Blood doesn’t make a family. Folks can lose that easy as breath.”
Her tone leaves no room for debate. She slides the envelope away, tucking it into the cracks of her couch. Out of sight, but not gone. Never gone.
Later, after she’s settled into bed with Cheyenne hovering like a guard dog, the three of us walk back out into the thick Charleston night. The air smells like salt and magnolia, sticky against my skin. Sean’s the first to break. “You’re really fine not knowing?”
I should say yes. I should shrug and keep walking. But the words wedge in my throat, jagged. “It feels like it’s the only way I’ll get to keep her, so.”
They both stop. Two sets of eyes pinning me to the cracked pavement. I keep mine fixed on the glowing streetlamp ahead, moths batting against the glass.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” Sean asks, suspicious and curious all at once.
I drag a hand down my face. My skin feels too tight, my voice too raw, but the words come anyway. “I’m not the easy choice. Sean, you’re charming and funny, you’ve got the tall blond guy thing going. Declan’s dependable and kind and tender, and I’m…I’m here because I might be the father. I want to be with her. I don’t know if I’d get that chance if she knew I wasn’t the father.”
Declan’s posture shifts, a fraction, but enough that I notice. His eyes narrow, reading me like I’m a chart with hidden data.
Sean just blinks. He starts, easy, “Ah, hey now?—”
But Declan interrupts him. “You heard her in there. Family’s what you make of it. That was for you. She sees you. She wants you, whether you’re the dad or not.”
I exhale slow, the confession heavy. “Foster care. Group homes. You never know where you’re going next, whose rules you’re supposed to follow, who’s going to show up for you. You’re just…invisible. Unwanted.” My throat burns. I swallow it down. “That envelope might as well be a case file. Someone else’s decision about whether I get to belong.”
Sean’s mouth opens, then shuts. He looks uncharacteristically lost, then he nods and says in a low voice, “That was a steptonight, that speech, fair play to ya. I know I gave it to ya, but that was a step at being who she needs you to be, Rowan. She wants you to be the man she needs or she wouldn’t keep giving you chances to show up. Keep showing up like that and maybe you could heal something in both of you.”
Both of us. He’s right. She has her own family aches that I could heal. Maybe healing her would do it for me too. Maybe I could get out of my own way for once. Her eyes are the light at the end of a tunnel.
We walk again, slower now. The cicadas buzz relentlessly like the noise inside my head.
Declan finally speaks, quieter than usual. “And you have been here, Rowan. We aren’t the same people. You might not have been here building a nursery like me or folding laundry like Sean. You were here the ways you were here. Obviously, whatever you give her, she wants, so. That’s what matters.”
Sean nods, surprising me with his seriousness. “Aye. Not knowing might make you feel invisible, but you can make yourself visible. Biology’s one thing. Showing up’s another. And you’ve shown up, even when you didn’t want to.”
