I allow my eyes to close and sink into my mother's tightening embrace. Instead, my mind goes back to the dark and musty room. Feeling my lack of reciprocation, she hiccups a sob, whispering, “I’m sorry, and I love you.” It takes her a minute to compose herself before she pulls away, her hands meeting my face.
“Give it time. Baby, you will get through this. You already survived the worst,” she whispers as she leans in and rubs her nose against mine. Her tears soak my face, and I feel nothing. “Give it time, VeVe,” she whispers again before squeezing my hand and rising to her feet. “I have to go get Nixie situated, but I’ll be back. They plan on discharging you both, possibly tomorrow, and I would like you both home. For as long as it takes. I just need my children home,” she says before turning away and walking to the recliner.Herchildren. The words land like ice-cold water on a hot summer day. My hand is absentmindedly moving towards my center as the words replay like a vicious loop inside my head.My children.
“Mom,” I say, making her turn around to face me. Her smile is contagious, and instantly, I feel the curl on my own lips. My words die before they get a chance to live. Somehow, she understood my silent need. She nods. That’s my mother, understanding and kind. A mother I could only aspire to be…
I watch as she bends to pick up the fallen book, her movements are slow, like she’s bearing a great weight. Maybe she is… She rises to her feet, grabs her coat, throws on her tan coat, and places the book inside her black Michael Kors bag. Just as she heads towards the door, Mom turns to me and blows me a kiss, then she turns to Max. “I’ll see you later. I know you might want her home, but she needs tobe with family,” she says, leaving no room for argument. Max’s only answer is a small smile and a nod before turning away, walking towards the door, and leaving.
My pulse spikes when the door shuts. Leaving us alone. I can feel the adrenaline burst through my brain, signaling my body to panic. The proximity between us is too overwhelming. It makes me want to flee. The worst part is the absolute look of horror on his face as Max stands frozen in place. I quickly look away, dipping my chin into my neck, trying to hide away. Wishing Isaac were here with me. The thought alone makes me feel ashamed. After all, Max is my partner. Someone I should feel safe with. Be in love with… Now I can’t seem to reconcile any of it. Fuck… I can’t even look him in his eyes, not after everything. Not after Iz. Guilt consumes me like wildfire when I think about Iz being inside me just hours ago.
Even though the memory is short-lived and replaced with the feel of Harry, his musky outdoor scent overpowers everything, causing the room to shrink. Smaller and smaller. I bring my hands to each side of my head, and my eyes begin to blur from the tears, but I blink them away. So fucking far away. I’ve cried enough. Max clears his throat, the sound so miniscule, but it becomes a beacon of light that drags me out of the darkness of my mind. “Do you remember the first time we met?” he asks softly.
I close my eyes and picture my nineteen-year-old self, heartbroken and alone, reading inside a coffee shop. Max pulls at his collar, his chin quivering with emotions as he takes in a deep breath. “I thought you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I fell for you long before you decided to put me out of my misery. I love you so fucking much, Veronica,” he says, his voice breaking, so unlike the cool, collected Max I know. “Not knowing anything about you killed me. I couldn’t sleep… eat. And now I see you, and it pains me to see you so utterly lost. My love. Tell me how I can fix this,” Max pleads as he moves closer, his hands reaching out to touch me. My reaction isimmediate. I recoil, moving away from him as if his touch could burn me.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” he says, his voice so low, so full of sadness. My breaths become heavy as he crouches in front of me, making himself smaller and non-threatening.He lingers, but he doesn’t touch me. Our eyes meet, and I see his worry, the agony, and the guilt written all over his beautiful face.
I’m sorry,I want to say, opening my mouth but quickly slamming it shut. Things will never be the same. I'm not the same. Right now, I'm unsure of who I am, but what I do know is that I'm broken. And that I’m not in love with him. The best I can do is let him go. No more excuses. My eyes drift from his pained gaze and move to the white wall. It’s plain and unadorned, stark in its simplicity, and seems to echo my own emptiness.
The emptiness that now consumes my soul.
I feel his gaze lingering on me, burning like the too-hot sun of an August afternoon, but I don’t meet it. The silence stretches out between us, growing heavier. It isn’t fair for him. I know… none of this is. Max’s hand trembles slightly as he reaches once more for me, but he stops just short of my arm, the heat from his touch ghosting over my skin.
“Veronica,” he says again, pleadingly. His voice is a raw echo in the sterile silence, revealing more than his words could ever say.
I want to help you. Let me fix this.
But there is no fixing this. There is no turning back. Not after everything I went through, not after allowing myself to give in to my heart because it was him who kept me anchored. It’s Isaac who held me in place as I lost bits of myself. There’s no use fighting my heart, nor my body that craves his touch, his warmth. Yet I find myself retreating further into my desolation, the walls within me rising higher, barring him out.
“You can’t, Max.” My voice is a broken whisper, mirroring his pain, but a silent testament to my own shattered soul. “There’s nothing to fix. Only acceptance. I can’t continue to lie to myself.” I lower my gaze, already feeling the cloud of pain rolling in like a devastating storm. “I can’t be with you.” The words tumble out from my lips before I have the chance to contemplate them, and learn to regret them. This time I couldn’t do it. I need to follow through, not because of Iz… or what happened. But because of me. This is my first real choice. I don’t turn to meet his gaze, the guilt of looking into his eyes and seeing the pain I’m sure I’m causing will cause me to reconsider.
I hear his sigh, so deep and full of grief. “I love you.”
“Then let me go.”
This time, I lift my gaze to meet his and nod as he bites down on his lower lip. He stands up then, turning away from me. His broad shoulders set in rigid lines. “I… Veronica…” His voice trails off painfully. I can hear the frustration, the helplessness seeping through his words. The plea in his tone is almost unbearable… It hurts more than anything. It’s palpable, resonating between us like a melody of despair. He knows, just as much as I do, that things will never be the same. The Veronica he loved is gone forever, and only a piece of her remains. The only piece left belongs to another, to Isaac. “I love you, Veronica.” Max’s voice breaks, and it detonates a bomb of sorrow within me. He turns back to look at me, his eyes welling up with tears. I can’t bear to see him like this, his face a mask of anguish, but I don’t stop him as he opens the door and leaves. Watching him walk away, I feel my heart wrench in my chest.
Inhale.
Exhale.
My final breath of air fills my lungs with possibilities. Even though none of them is clear. Something inside me pieces together. Tears trickle down my face, my pulse evening out as I sink into the hospital bed. My hands go to my stomach, and I let the dam break. A soft knock at the door freezes me in place. Bringing my hands to my face, I wipe off the tears as a doctor and a nurse walk into the room. The resident is a young woman, close to my age if I had to guess, flipping through pages on her clipboard. The nurse, a blonde, short woman much older than both of us, works on getting my vitals.
“Ms. Vargas, good to see you awake. My name is Doctor DeSilva. I wanted to stop by before I left for the day. There are two things I wanted to talk to you about. We did an STD panel, and everything came back negative so far. Exceptfor the pregnancy test we administered, it came back positive. We also ordered an ultrasound. We were just waiting for you to be awake.”
I nod. There’s a rush of blood in my ears. The reality of her words hits me like a punch in the gut. I’m reallypregnant. A tide of emotions overwhelms me—disbelief, shock, fear, and a flicker of joy that quickly dies down under the burden of the truth. I'm pregnant with my stepbrother’s baby. The room blurs around me as if I’m sinking beneath the surface of a turbulent sea. I can barely distinguish their faces as they continue to talk, their words muffled, drowned out by the thunderous beating of my heart.
“Would now be a good time for the ultrasound?” she asks. I nod, unable to summon the strength to speak. Dr. “Then that settles it, I’ll be back in thirty minutes.” I don’t respond with words, only a small dip of my chin. “Would you like us to arrange for you to see a counselor?”
I shrug, unsure if it would do any good… All I know is that it can’t do any further damage. DeSilva turns to leave with her nurse in tow, and I'm left sitting, clutching my stomach.
Chapter Twenty Nine
Isaac
Something vibrates inside the bag my father brought in with a change of clothes, and slowly I inch closer to the sound. Opening the bag, my lips tug to a small smile when I see… my phone inside with Sledge’s name illuminating the screen. I’m not surprised to see that he didn’t show. Hospitals aren’t really his thing, not after he watched his father die in one. I answer the phone with a swipe of my finger. There’s a thickness that makes its way up my throat as I place the device to my ear. A prickle begins behind my eyes when I hear my best friend sigh in relief—an exhale of breath. “Brother.”
I swallow hard, even though he can’t see me, and I give him a curt nod. “Brother.” My voice is harsh, like it’s been dragged through gravel, or maybe it’s the exhaustion. I hear a sniffle, and I collapse into the chair. My chin drops to my chest as I listen to what I’m sure is Sledge crying on the other side of the phone. I don’t comment on it; we usually didn’t do things like that. However, we have never experienced anything like this either. This is new to all of us. Pressure builds behind my own, my jaw ticks, struggling to keep myself steady.
“I wish… I try to man up, but... fuck. I couldn’t. Brother, I'm so glad.” The emotion in his voice is enough to make a grown man cry, and fuck that I am. I couldn’t fault him, not when I can’t even turn the lights on, scared to see the man that reflects back at me. “You’re okay, man,” is all I can respond, trying to ease his guilt. “I heard, I’ll be out of here tomorrow.”
