Ben
Corinne’s gother elbows braced on the table, picking at a salad she hasn’t touched. Arrow is already on his second beer, the bottle sweating every time he picks it up. I shovel a forkful of lasagna into my mouth, but the food tastes like cardboard.
This is supposed to be family night. Board games, shit-talking, the kind of normal other people post about online.
Instead, everyone's walking on eggshells, and I'm about two seconds from losing my mind.
Arrow looks at me, then her, then me again. "You good, Cori? Looks like you’re trying to kill that salad before it escapes."
She jumps a little, fork clattering against the plate. "Sorry. I just…long day." Her phone buzzes next to her, and she glances at it, then flips it face-down.
"Anything you want to talk about?" I press, feeling something twist in my gut. The tension in the room could cut steel.
Corinne shakes her head. She finally meets my eyes, but only for a split second before her gaze drops to her napkin. "Nope. Just tired. You know how the end of the month is at work. Payroll headaches."
But I know that look. Corinne never dodges anything unless it’s bad.
Really bad.
I try again. "Are you sure? Because you’ve barely touched your food, and you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for a ransom demand."
Arrow snorts, but the sound is hollow. Even he can tell this isn’t just normal Corinne anxiety.
"Give it a rest, Ben," she mutters, pushing her chair back a few inches. "I said I’m fine."
Nobody moves. The silence stretches. My hands curl tight on my glass, the sweat from the cold drink soaking my fingertips.
I look over at Arrow, hoping he’ll bail me out. His mouth is set in a flat line. The only person more uncomfortable than me in this moment is probably the fucking lasagna.
“Cori, what’s going on?” I keep pressing.
She doesn’t answer.
She continues to sit there, jaw clenched, staring at some spot on the table. The air feels charged, feeling as if I say one more word, the whole thing will blow up.
It’s Arrow who breaks first, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate. “Hell, at this point it’s probably better if you just rip the Band-Aid off.”
Corinne’s eyes flick to mine, glassy now.
Shit.
She takes a shaky breath, her fingers digging at the napkin in her lap. “Fine. You want the truth? I saw April today.”
The name lands like a sucker punch. My whole body tenses.
Arrow blinks, beer halfway to his mouth. “April? Like, his April?”
Corinne nods, cheeks flushed. “At the clinic. I was picking up some paperwork and she was leaving...”
She stops, biting her lip, and glances away again.
"And?" My skin is prickling, dread crawling up my spine.
She finally forces herself to say it. “She’s pregnant, Ben.”
I start to feel dizzy.
Arrow sets his bottle down so hard the label peels off in his palm.
