She’s here.
She stayed.
The realization comes with an uncomfortable truth that I’d already been preparing myself for what it would feel like if she hadn’t. Her hands twist together, and her shoulders are hunched, as if bracing for a blow. Her face is pale, and her eyes are wide, filled with fear. She looks so damn small and defenseless.
When it comes down to it, I don’t know Kia well, but I know that look. It’s one that says she’s expecting judgment. Sympathy floods through me as I cross the room, forcing myself to take it slow. I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll end up spooking her and she’ll bolt.
I’m well aware of my size and how easily my presence could overwhelm her. Kia watches me cautiously, worry flashing across her face before she schools it.
I really fucking hate that she’s so nervous.
I settle beside her, close enough that our knees almost touch, and reach for her hands. It would be impossible not to notice how cold they are or that she’s trembling. Her breath hitches as she stares down at the place where our fingers are now laced together.
It’s tempting to pull her into my arms and hold her. Instead, I ask the one question that’s uppermost in my mind.
“How far along are you?”
She swallows. “I’m not sure. Once I missed a period, I took a test. So… around three months.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I don’t let myself react to the number. I need to take this one step at a time. That’s how you survive moments like this.
My mind moves to the next logical step. “The first thing we should do is make an appointment with an OB-GYN.”
She blinks. “Rina already did that. It’s, um, later this morning. I was planning to go while Elody was at school.”
Relief eases some of the tension gathered inside me. “Good.”
If she told Rina, then it makes sense her brother’s aware of the situation.
“So, Oliver knows?”
Her mouth trembles as she chews her bottom lip. Her eyes grow glassy before she shakes her head. “No, I only told Rina.”
When the first tear falls, something inside me breaks. The shift is immediate, and I lift my hand, carefully wiping the wetness away with the pad of my thumb.
“My family is going to be so disappointed,” she whispers. “All of them.”
The shame in her voice cuts deeper than the tears.
“Other than Oliver,” I say quietly, “I don’t know your family, but I can’t imagine any of them wanting you to go through this alone.”
She releases a shaky breath, clearly trying to hold it together. The effort alone tells me how close she is to the edge.
“And the father?” I ask, dreading the answer even as the words leave my mouth. For all I know, he’s involved from a distance. Or worse, he’s someone she’s still in love with.
The thought is like a punch I didn’t see coming. It’s not anger, exactly, but something far darker that feels more possessive. My hand curls at my side and my jaw locks tight.
It’s a reflex I have no right to feel. It takes effort to swallow the emotion down, forcing it deep before the flames have a chance to spread. This isn’t about me. Whatever I’m feeling doesn’t matter right now. What matters is Kia. She doesn’t need judgment or jealousy from me.
She needs steadiness.
Support.
A safe place to land.
The question hangs between us, waiting for an answer that has the potential to change everything.
