~Chapter 12~
(2 WEEKS LATER)
I wake up hard.
Not suddenly. Not from a bad dream.
I just… wake up.
My body is heavy.
My head is foggy.
And there’s a bitter taste in my mouth that shouldn’t be there.
I blink a few times, trying to figure out where I am.
My room.
The same ceiling. The same walls.
Two weeks.
That’s how long it’s been.
I take a deep breath… and immediately regret it.
A wave of nausea hits me so suddenly that I tense up instantly.
I put my hand to my mouth, gasping for breath.
"No..." I mutter hoarsely.
Not again.
I get out of bed too quickly and the room spins for a second, but I don't stop.
I already know what's coming.
I barely make it to the bathroom.
I lean against the sink for a split second... and then it all comes out.
I grip the edges of the sink with my fingers, until they hurt.
My breathing is chaotic, my body contracts again and again.
I hate this.
I hate the feeling.
I hate... everything.
When it finally stops, I'm left hunched over, trembling slightly.
The water is running. I don't know when I turned on the tap.
I rinse my mouth mechanically, without looking in the mirror.
But I do.
Mistake.
My eyes are red.
Tired.
My face… paler than I remember.
I look down.
My shirt falls slightly… but not like it used to.
I stiffen.
I place my hand on my stomach, slowly.
It’s not big. It’s not obvious.
But it’s…
there.
A little rounder.
A little fuller.
I swallow hard.
“Maybe I can lie that I’m just bloated…
” I whisper, more to convince myself than because I believe it.
Silence.
My hand stays there for a second longer.
Then I pull it away quickly, as if I’ve been burned.
No.
I’m not thinking about that right now.
I don’t want to.
A sound at the door makes me jump.
Two short knocks.
“Idris?” Samuel’s voice.
I close my eyes for a moment.
Of course it’s him.
“Are you awake?” he asks, calmer than I remember it being.
I quickly wipe my face and take a deep breath, trying to sound…
normal.
“Yes,” I answer, though my voice comes out weaker than I intended.
My hand shakes slightly as I open the door.
Samuel is standing there, leaning against the wall.
His gaze immediately falls on me.
On my face.
On my eyes.
And I know.
He knows.
He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.
Then, simply:
“We’re getting ready. We’re leaving.
”
I frown slightly, still dazed.
“Where…?”
“To the doctor.”
My heart skips a beat.
“No,” I say immediately.
Reflex. Fast. Defensive.
But this time… Samuel doesn’t sigh. He doesn’t get angry.
He just looks at me.
Calm.
Too calm.
“That’s not an option.”
I glare at him, roll my eyes, and go to bed, leaving me lying down.
Samuel looks at me, and he has that ‘speak or shut up?’ look on his face.
“What?” I ask, muttering
Samuel doesn’t answer right away.
He just looks at me.
Seriously. Steady.
Like he’s trying to choose each word before he says it.
That… annoys me more than if he’d yelled.
“What?” I repeat, raising my voice slightly, already irritated.
He sighs softly and runs a hand through his hair.
“I’m not going to argue with you today.
”
I blink.
Ok… I didn’t expect that.
“Then go away,” I say dryly, turning onto my side and pulling the blanket over me.
Two seconds of silence.
Three.
Four.
He doesn’t leave.
Of course he doesn’t leave.
“You threw up again,” he says simply.
I freeze.
“It’s none of your business.”
“Yes, it is.” His tone isn’t raised.
But it’s… firm. Irritatingly calm.
I turn to him abruptly.
“Since when?!”
Samuel doesn’t even blink.
“Since you’re not the only one affected.
” His words hit me straight in the face.
I swallow hard and clutch the blanket in my hands.
“I don’t need a doctor,” I say more quietly, but still defensively.
“It’s normal. Everyone says it’s normal.
”
“Not ‘everyone’ lives in this house,” he replies immediately.
Silence.
I clench my jaw.
“They won’t find out,” I add quickly.
“If we go, if anyone sees me, if…”
“No one will see you.”
I stop.
I look at him.
Samuel steps into the room now, closing the door behind him.
“I’ve already arranged it,” he continues.
“It’s not a pack clinic. There’s no one here.
There’s no one to report.”
My heart beats faster.
“Since when…?” he murmurs.
“Since you couldn’t eat without feeling sick,” he says simply.
I look away.
At the floor.
At my hands.
Anywhere… except him.
Because I know.
He knows.
He knows more than I’m saying.
“I don’t want…” I finally whisper.
It’s not the refusal from earlier.
It’s… something else.
Tiredness.
Fear.
Samuel doesn’t answer right away.
He slowly approaches the bed and sits on the edge, but keeps his distance.
He doesn’t touch me.
“I know,” he says below.
I look up, surprised. He doesn’t argue with me.
He doesn’t force me… not yet. “But you’re going,” he continues calmly.
“Not for me.”
Pause.
His gaze drops for a split second…
to my abdomen.
Then back to my eyes.
“Because if something happens to him…” he breaks off, his jaw tense.
“…I won’t be able to sit and watch.”
Silence.
My breathing slows slightly.
Not because I’m calmer.
But because… I don’t know what else to say.
“It’s just a check,” he adds more quietly.
“We’re going in. We’re going out. No one finds out. ”
I bite my lip.
I think.
The bathroom.
The mirror.
My hand on my stomach.
How… real does it all start to feel.
“And after…?” I ask softly.
Samuel looks at me.
“After, I’ll bring you back home.”
Simple.
No pressure.
But I know.
It’s not just that.
I swallow hard and close my eyes for a second.
Then I exhale.
“…okay,” I say almost inaudibly.
There’s silence.
I don’t know why… but I expected it to feel like a victory for him.
But he doesn’t smile.
He doesn’t say “I told you so.”
He just nods slightly.
“Ten minutes,” he says and stands up.
“I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
He heads for the door.
He pauses for a second with his hand on the doorknob.
Without turning around completely, he adds,
“And Idris…”
I look up.
“You don’t have to lie with ‘balloons’ in front of me.
”
I freeze.
The door closes.
And I am left alone.
---
The engine starts, and its gentle vibration fills the silence between us.
I sit with my back pressed against the seat, my seatbelt pulled over me, staring out the window without really seeing anything.
Houses pass by, trees, people… but everything is a blur.
It’s not a comfortable silence. It’s… oppressive.
I bite the inside of my cheek for a few seconds, then give in.
“Samuel…” my voice comes out lower than I want.
“Hm?” he answers without taking his eyes off the road.
I look at him for a few seconds. His profile.
Serious. Calm. Too calm.
“Why are you acting like that?” I finally ask.
A second. Two.
“How?” he asks, although I know he understands.
I roll my eyes slightly and turn more towards him.
“Like this,” I say, making a vague gesture.
“Calm. Patient. Stop yelling. Stop… being you.” His hands lightly grip the steering wheel.
He doesn’t answer right away. And that annoys me more than if he’d said something wrong.
“Seriously, Samuel,” I continue, more forcefully.
“For 17 years you’ve been throwing lines in my face and now…
you’re taking me to the doctor like…” I stop, frowning.
“Like you care too much.”
Silence
The car slows down a bit at a traffic light.
Red.
Samuel exhales slowly. Only then does he turn his head to face me.
His gaze isn’t irritated. It’s not cold.
It’s… sincere. And that unsettles me more than anything.
“Because I care,” he says simply. I swallow hard.
I don’t answer. The light turns green, but he doesn’t start right away.
He stands there for a second. “I want to be a good uncle,” he continues, more slowly.
I blink. Once. Twice.
“What…?” I mumble, confused.
He starts the car again, but his voice remains calm.
Steady.
“If this kid is going to exist…” he pauses briefly, searching for the words.
“Then it won’t be one that grows up in total chaos.
” I clench my fingers into the material of my hoodie.
“And…” he continues, “I’m close to becoming the Beta of the pack.
” I turn my head to him immediately. “I have to grow up at some point.”
His words hang in the air.
Heavy. Real.
I stare at him for a few seconds without saying anything.
“So… this is it?” I ask quietly. “Responsibility?”
A corner of his mouth twitches vaguely.
Not quite a smile.
“Not just that,” he says.
I frown. “So?”
This time, he hesitates.
And for a split second… he seems unsure again.
Like before.
"Because it's you," he finally says, without looking at me.
My heart beats faster. For no reason. Or maybe too much.
I turn my gaze to the window immediately.
"You're annoying," I murmur, but my voice no longer has the same force.
Samuel snorts slightly. "I know."
Silence returns.
But it's not the same anymore.
I lean my head lightly against the window, looking at my faint reflection.
---
"I'm here," he says and I look out confused, it seems like I was looking out the window but I was in a trance.
I get out of the car more slowly than I should.
My legs are slightly soft, like they're not really my own. The air outside is cold, but not enough to clear my head.
I look up.
The building looks like a pack. There are no symbols.
There are no guards. Just… a normal clinic, except it’s not the one next to us.
Just like Samuel said.
I swallow hard.
“Come on,” he says shortly, closing the car.
He doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t pull me.
But he walks forward, sure of himself, as if he knows I’ll follow him.
And… I do.
The door opens slightly as we enter, and a faint smell of disinfectant hits me instantly.
I tense my shoulders involuntarily.
Cold. Too clean. Too… real
The reception desk is almost empty. A woman looks up, but Samuel arrives first.
“Appointment by name…” he begins calmly, saying the name without hesitation.
I look at him. At how… prepared he is.
At how normal he makes everything seem.
No one says anything suspicious.
No one asks us strange questions.
He just nods.
“Please take a seat.”
That’s it.
That’s it.
That’s it.
I sit down on one of the chairs, stiff.
My hands are clasped in my lap without me realizing it.
Samuel sits down next to me.
Not too close.
But not too far away either.
Controlled…
space.
The silence between us isn’t awkward now.
It’s… tense. I rub my palms together lightly, then stop them when I realize it.
“You don’t have to come in with me,” I say suddenly, without looking at him.
I don’t want to. I don’t know why. But I don’t want him to see.
Samuel doesn’t answer right away. “You don’t have to,” I repeat, more slowly.
I feel him move a little next to me.
Then:
“Okay.”
I blink, surprised.
I turn my head to him.
“Really?”
He nods once.
“If that’s what you want.”
I stare at him for a few seconds.
I was expecting a response. An opposition.
A “no.”
But… nothing.
And that destabilizes me more than anything.
I lower my gaze.
“But…” he adds after a second.
Of course.
I look up.
“If they call you and you don’t come…
” he says calmly, “I’ll come over you.
A corner of my mouth twitches involuntarily.
“Control freak,” I mutter.
“Responsible,” he corrects.
Silence.
The door to the hallway opens.
“Idris..Walden?” My heart leaps in my chest. That’s it.
It’s the moment. I stand up slowly. For a second, I hesitate.
My gaze falls on Samuel.
He says nothing.
He just looks at me. Steady. Present.
There.
I swallow hard and nod my head ever so slightly.
Then I turn…and go after the nurse who’s already waiting for me.
Every step feels harder than it should be.
The door closes behind me. And…there’s nowhere to run.
The nurse who took me to a doctor, who I learned through conversation was called Bella, was super nice but now that I've reached the special room.
.. she seems like the worst person.
"Please come in" says the Person who is there, getting up from her chair and smiling at me.
The nurse says something more and then leaves me alone.
In the room.
With the doctor.
I remain standing, near the door, as if if I don't move enough.
.. maybe nothing will start. The doctor looks at me calmly, without rushing.
"You can sit down," he says, indicating the examination bed.
I don't move right away. I feel my pulse in my neck.
In my temples. In my fingers. "I don't bite," he adds softly, with a small smile, probably trying to lighten the mood.
It doesn't work.
I slowly approach though and sit on the edge of the bed, stiff.
My hands are clenched in my sweatshirt.
“Idris Walden, right?” he asks, looking at the chart.
I nod.
My voice doesn’t come out.
“Okay… the person who made the appointment mentioned a few things on the phone, but I’d rather hear it from you.
” He looks up at me. “How are you feeling?”
I let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Bad.”
Simple. True.
The doctor doesn’t seem surprised.
“Morning sickness?”
I nod.
“Vomiting?”
“Yes.”
“Appetite?”
I hesitate.
“It depends… sometimes I can’t eat anything.
Other times… I’m hungry, but I feel sick afterwards. ”
He writes something down.
It all seems too… normal for what’s happening.
“Dizziness? Fatigue?”
“Yes… to both.”
He nods, as if checking off an invisible list.
“Okay.” Short pause.
“Idris… I’m going to ask you directly, okay?
”
I tense up.
“How many weeks do you think you’re due?
”
I swallow hard.
“I don’t know exactly…
” he murmurs. “About… two… three since… I found out.”
The doctor nods calmly.
“Okay. We’ll check for sure.”
My heart races.
This is the part I was afraid of.
“We’ll do a basic checkup and an ultrasound,” he continues, in the same calm tone.
“Nothing complicated.”
I freeze.
“No…” I say immediately.
Reflex.
The doctor stops. He doesn’t press.
“Okay,” he says simply.
I blink, surprised.
“We’re not doing anything you don’t want,” he continues.
“But… it’s important to know if everything is okay.
”
I tighten my fingers into the material.
I breathe in.
I exhale.
“Will it hurt?” I ask quietly.
For the first time, my voice sounds…
small. The doctor blinks slightly, then shakes his head.
“No. It’ll be… uncomfortable, maybe.
But not painful.”
Silence.
I look down.
At my hands. At the fact that they’re shaking slightly.
At everything.
“What if… what if something’s wrong?
” I ask without looking up.
My voice cracks a little.
The doctor doesn’t answer right away.
He takes a step closer, but not too far.
“Then we’ll know in time,” he says calmly.
“And we’ll be able to do something.”
Those words…
don’t reassure me.
But they don’t scare me any more.
They are… real.
I run my tongue over my lips and nod my head ever so slightly.
“Okay…” I whisper.
I take a deep breath.
“Okay.”
The doctor smiles a little.
“Okay. Then we’ll start easy.”
He turns to the machines, preparing everything.
And I stay there…
with my heart in my throat.
With my thoughts in chaos.
I instinctively put my hand on my stomach.
Not to hide it.
Not to deny it.
But just…
to feel it’s real.
The doctor jots down a few things on the chart, then looks up at me again.
“Well… so far, everything looks fine,” he says calmly.
“The pregnancy is still very small, about three weeks and a few days.” I swallow hard.
“With werewolves,” he continues, as if reading my mind, “things progress differently than they do with humans. Around five months is considered a fully developed pregnancy.”
I blink.
Five months?
“But the first two months are the most intense,” he adds.
“Development is much faster at the beginning.”
I clench my hands into my sweatshirt.
“That’s why it’s important to stabilize yourself now.
” Short pause. “How many pounds did you say you gained?”
I pause for a second.
“Two…” I mutter.
The doctor raises his eyebrows slightly.
“Two pounds to start with?”
I nod.
He sighs slightly, but doesn’t sound critical, more attentive.
“It’s… a little,” he says honestly. “For this stage. You should try to eat regularly. Three meals a day, even if they’re small portions.
”
I look down.
“I know it’s not easy with the nausea,” he adds more gently, “but your body needs energy now more than ever.”
I swallow hard.
“I’ll try…” I whisper.
The doctor nods, pleased that I’m not completely opposed.
“Good.”
He looks at the chart again, then looks up at me, a little more intently this time.
“And… the father of the child?”
I freeze.
Suddenly.
My heart skips a beat.
“What…?” I blurt out automatically.
“Is anyone involved?” he asks calmly.
“He should be medically informed. Especially in cases of werewolf pregnancy.”
My mouth goes dry.
The image of Cedric instantly comes to mind
"Yes.
.." I say slowly, without thinking too much.
"He's... involved." I mumble
The doctor nods.
"Good. Then it would be good for him to be present at the next check-ups.
It helps the pregnancy's stability a lot.
"
I clench my fingers tighter.
"Does he know?
" he asks then.
Silence.
Too much silence.
My breath catches for a second.
Too long.
Too visible.
The doctor is still looking at me, waiting for a complete answer.
I lick my lips, trying to gather my thoughts.
“Yes…” I say slowly, swallowing hard and feeling bad about lying shamelessly
The words fall hard.
As if they’re only now becoming real even to me.
The doctor doesn’t react dramatically. He just nods and writes something down.
“Okay. Then he needs to be properly medically informed, even if the relationship between you two isn’t…
active right now.” he says and I look away, embarrassed that he’s realized I’m lying
I clench my hands in my hoodie tighter.
“It’s not…” I start, then stop.
I don’t know how to explain it.
It’s not simple. It’s not clear. It’s nothing like it should be.
The doctor doesn’t insist, he just continues calmly:
“It’s only important from a biological and supportive point of view.
Especially with a werewolf pregnancy, the emotional and physical stability around you is very important.
”
I swallow hard.
Emotional stability.
Irony.
“We’re going to do the ultrasound now,” he says, changing his tone slightly, to a more practical one.
“Please lie down here.”
I get up slowly, almost mechanically.
The examination bed creaks slightly as I lie down on it.
The ceiling suddenly becomes the only thing I can look at.
I feel the cold gel on my abdomen and wince involuntarily.
“Cold,” the doctor warns softly.
I nod, but say nothing more.
The machine touches my skin.
A faint sound fills the room.
Beep… beep… beep…
And for a few seconds, everything in me stops.
The doctor stares at the screen in silence.
I can’t see anything clearly.
Just lights, shapes, white and gray.
But my heart is pounding so hard that I can hear it more than the machine.
“Good…” he says after a few moments.
“You can clearly see the implantation. Everything is in the right position.”
I exhale without realizing I’ve been holding my breath.
“There are no signs of complications now,” he adds calmly.
“Very good for this stage.”
I feel my shoulders slump slightly.
But not completely.
“Here…” he continues, pointing at the screen, “it’s very small yet.
We can’t determine the sex. And we don’t need to rush it.
” I nod. “It’s normal to feel tired and nauseous with these fluctuating hormone levels,” he continues.
“But I want to insist on what I said: regular meals. Even small ones, but frequent ones.”
He hands me a tissue.
I slowly stand up, wiping the gel off my stomach.
The room seems quieter now.
Or maybe I’m just emptier inside.
The doctor makes his final notes.
“I’ll schedule your next checkup in two weeks.
”
Pause. Then he adds, more carefully: “And Idris… try not to go through this alone.”
I look up.
I don’t answer right away.
Because for the first time…
I don’t know if I’m alone in this anymore.
“Thank you,” I say politely and accept the ultrasound with a sheet.
He looks at me, smiling and nods.
“Good day, Idris,” he says and I say goodbye.
Leaving the office seems harder than entering.
The door closes behind me with a sharp sound, and for a second I stand in the hallway, the sheet clutched in my hand as if it might disappear if I let it go.
I see Samuel immediately after I leave the hallway with the rooms.
He stands exactly as I left him.
Straight. Calm. Too calm.
His gaze instantly rises to mine.
He doesn’t ask anything. But it’s clear he’s waiting.
I swallow hard and move closer.
“Are you okay?” he asks simply.
I nod, not looking at him directly.
“Yes…”
I stop next to him and hand him the chart and the ultrasound.
Samuel takes them without hesitation.
He looks at them for a second, then another.
His eyebrows furrow slightly.
“This is…?” he asks, looking up at me.
“The ultrasound,” I answer quickly. “And the chart.”
He studies them once more, more carefully now.
“And?” he asks. “What did he say?”
I feel my throat tighten.
“It’s too small,” I say simply, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“Nothing is clear yet. Nothing can be said… yet.”
Samuel doesn’t seem satisfied with the answer.
“You mean… is it okay?” he asks immediately.
I nod.
“Yes. He said everything is in the right position. No complications.”
I see him exhale slowly, but he doesn’t relax completely.
He glances over the sheet once more.
“And the next checkup?” he asks.
I stammer for a split second.
“In… two weeks,” I say quickly. “Pregnancy lasts 5 months and I’m almost 4 weeks along.
”
Samuel raises his eyebrows slightly.
“4 weeks?” he repeats, raising his eyebrows.
I shrug, trying to sound like this is normal.
"Yes."
Samuel looks at me for a few long seconds.
Then he nods slowly.
“Okay,” he says simply.
But he doesn’t give me the file back right away.
“And you?” he adds, more slowly. “How are you feeling?”
I tense up.
“Okay,” a minty automatic.
Samuel is often gentle, almost imperceptible.
“Idris…”
His tone isn’t argumentative.
He’s just… tired of my lie. I look up at him.
And for a second, I can’t continue the drama.
“Tired,” I finally admit, more slowly.
“And… still dizzy.”
He nods, as if that was the right answer all along.
“Come on,” he says simply, putting the sheets back in the folder.
“Let’s go get something to eat at the mall and then go home,”
He says and grabs my waist, a little uncomfortably but not in that sense.
And this time… I don't feel so alone when we leave the building.
---
We enter the mall and the warm indoor air hits me immediately, mixed with the smell of food, perfumes, and the sound of footsteps.
I still feel the heaviness in my stomach, but it’s…
different here. More bearable.
Samuel walks next to me, looking at his phone.
“Why are you hungry?” he asks, without looking up.
I open my mouth to answer, but stop.
Because I don’t know.
I really don’t know where that sudden sensation came from, like a thought that’s not mine.
I bite my lip.
“I don’t know…” I say softly.
“Something sweet, I think.”
Samuel looks up at me, briefly.
“Hm.”
And he keeps walking, as if he’s already calculating where we’re going.
We pass a few stores, lights, shop windows, people laughing.
And then… I feel him.
Suddenly.
Clearly.
“Can we find a strawberry shop?” I ask suddenly, without thinking.
I stop almost immediately after saying that.
I blink. “I mean… I don’t know why I said that,” I add quickly, slightly confused.
“Just… strawberries.”
Samuel stops too.
He looks at me.
Just.
For a second he says nothing.
Then he tilts his head slightly, as if trying not to smile.
“Strawberries,” he repeats.
“Yes…” he murmurs, more softly.
“Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging you,” he says immediately.
But his voice is softer than before.
He pockets his phone.
“Come on.”
“Where?”
“We’ll find it.
”
And he walks forward, more confidently now, through the crowd.
I follow him.
We walk a few steps through the mall until Samuel stops in front of a small fruit and dessert stand.
My eyes instantly light up.
Strawberries.
Cut fruit. Colorful bowls.
I swallow without realizing it.
“Stay here,” Samuel says, without looking at me, already taking out his wallet.
“I’ll go get in line.”
I frown slightly.
“I can get in line,” I say quickly.
Samuel turns his head towards me just a little.
“No.”
Simple tone. Firm.
“Samuel..”
“Sit down,” he interrupts me immediately, calmer, but with no room for discussion.
“You’re tired. I see.”
I press my lips together.
“I’m not really that..”
“Idris.”
Just my name.
That’s it.
And I stop.
I sigh and look around, then at a nearby empty table.
“Okay…” I mumble.
I sit down.
Samuel nods once, as if he’s solved a problem, and goes to his turn.
I watch him for a second.
Then I tilt my head back a little.
“Too dramatic…” I mutter to myself.
A few minutes later I see him come back.
He’s holding a large bowl in his hand.
Cut-up fruit, strawberries, bananas, grapes…
and on top of that, more chocolate than I expected.
I blink a few times.
“This… is for me?” I ask quietly.
Samuel places the bowl on the table in front of me.
“No, I bought it for myself and you’re eating it by mistake,” he says dryly.
I look at him.
I raise an eyebrow.
“Do you want to make me fat?” I ask, half serious, half confused.
Samuel looks at me as if I’ve just said something extremely stupid.
"You're talking nonsense," he says immediately.
A small, involuntary chuckle escapes my lips.
I take a strawberry from the bowl and eat it slowly.
It’s cold. Sweet. Perfect.
Samuel sits down in front of me, his elbows on the table.
“Eat,” he says simply.
I look at him.
“You order like a bodyguard.”
“Yes.”
I roll my eyes.
But I take another sip.
And another.
And for a few minutes… it’s no longer clinical, no longer fearful, no longer heavy thoughts.
Just fruit, chocolate, and the awkward silence between us.
A few more minutes pass, then Samuel asks me:
“When are you going to introduce me to your husband?” he says.
I huff and choke. Too direct a question.
"He's not my husband..." I say as I take the napkin from Samuel's hand.
He rolls his eyes and puts a hand to his chin.
"He put you to bed. And a child, Idris.
With him." He says and I'm left with my mouth hanging open, immediately looking away from us so I don't hear what nonsense he just said.
"Samuel!" I whisper
"Idris!" he says in the same tone "does he even know?" he asks
I freeze instantly.
The napkin remains in my hand, crumpled, and my gaze automatically runs over the surrounding tables. Two people continue to laugh. No one seems to have heard.
I exhale slowly.
"Samuel..." I whisper through my teeth, still shocked.
"You're talking too loud."
He crosses his arms, completely indifferent to my reaction.
"Answer."
I rub my forehead with my fingers, exasperated.
“First of all, he’s not ‘my husband,’” I say firmly, then lower my hand. “And second of all… it’s not that simple.”
Samuel tilts his head, looking straight at me.
“You still don’t answer.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “No,” I finally say, more quietly. “He doesn’t know.”
For a second, Samuel doesn’t say anything.
He just stares at me, as if trying to decide whether to get angry or not.
“Okay,” he finally says simply.
That’s all.
That takes me by surprise.
I blink.
“Okay?” I repeat, confused.
He shrugs.
“I can’t make you tell her.”
I look at him as if I don’t recognize him.
“You… would usually explode right now.”
“And you wouldn’t usually be here eating strawberries while you’re pregnant,” he replies dryly.
I let out a short, nervous laugh.
“That’s not helping.
”
Samuel leans back in his chair and runs a hand through his hair.
“Idris…” His tone changes a little. More serious.
“It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t know yet,” he says.
“But it will at some point.”
My smile freezes.
I look down at my bowl of fruit, not eating any more.
“I know…” I murmur.
Samuel rests his elbows on the table again, but calmer now.
“Just… don’t keep him out of this until it’s impossible to ignore,” he adds more quietly.
I don’t answer right away.
I take another strawberry, twirl it between my fingers, not eating it.
“I don’t know what to tell him,” I finally admit.
My voice drops.
Samuel looks at me for a few long seconds.
“Then you’ll find out,” he says simply.
I sigh and hand the rest of the fruit to him, because now I'm disgusted by everything there.
"Anyway, I have to see how I tell my parents.
.." I whisper and Samuel looks at me sullenly and takes the casserole from me, taking a grape and eating it.
Samuel looks up at me as soon as he hears my words.
For a second he doesn't react.
He just chews the grapes slowly, then puts the casserole down.
"Parents..." he repeats, as if checking if he heard correctly.
I squeeze my hands in my lap.
"Yes.
.." he murmurs. "I mean... they have to know.
But I don't know how to tell them."
Samuel leans back in his chair and looks at me more closely now.
"And you think it'll be easier than telling him?
"
A short sigh escapes me.
"No," I admit honestly.
"But... it's different."
"It's not different," he says immediately. Calmly. But firmly. “It’s the same. It just scares you from different directions.”
I bite my lip and look away.
“Thanks for the optimism…”
Samuel snorts slightly.
“It’s not optimism. It’s reality.”
There’s a brief silence between us.
The noise of the mall continues around me, people walking by, soft music from the stores, laughter from other tables.
I play with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
“They won’t understand…” I say softly.
Samuel raises an eyebrow.
“Our parents?”
I nod.
“It’s going to be… chaos.”
Samuel runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
“Idris,” he says more softly, “it’s not going to be easy.
But it’s not going to get solved if you put it off forever.
”
I look up at him.
“Why are you so calm?” I ask suddenly.
He stops.
For a second, it seems like he has no answer.
Then he slowly turns his gaze to me.
“I’m not calm,” he says simply.
“Yes, you are,” I insist.
Samuel rests his elbows on the table again.
“I’m… focused" he corrects.
“What?”
He looks straight at me.
“The fact that if you collapse, I’ll have to hold everything up.”
His words hit me harder than they should.
I immediately look down.
“I’m not a kid…
”
“You’re turning 20 this year but I’m 19 now…
I have more of a mindset than you,” he replies quickly.
Quiet.
I take a deeper breath.
“I don’t know how to tell them,” I repeat more quietly.
Samuel looks at the casserole, then pushes it toward me a little reflexively, even though I don’t want it anymore.
“Then you start simple,” he says.
I look at him.
“How?”
He shrugs.
“You tell them the truth. The rest will follow.”
I let out a short, half-hearted laugh.
“It sounds so easy when you say it…”
Samuel doesn’t answer right away.
He just looks at me.
Then he says more quietly:
“It’s not easy. It’s just necessary.”
I look at him for a few seconds, still trying to gather my thoughts.
“I have to tell my parents today…” I say slowly, more confidently this time.
“I can’t put it off any longer.”
Samuel doesn’t overreact.
He just nods his head slightly, as if he’s already expected it.
“Okay.”
I look down, fiddling with the edge of the table.
“But…” I continue, my voice trailing off a little, “not today.”
Samuel immediately looks up.
“No?”
I shake my head quickly.
“Not yet. Not today. I’m not ready to say I’m pregnant with a real Alpha’s child. ”
For a second, I see his shoulders relax, as if he too has understood that some things have a limit.
“Okay,” he says simply. Then he adds, more calmly, “It’s your choice.
”
I look at him in surprise.
“No comment?”
Samuel rolls his eyes slightly.
“Don’t expect me to perform today.”
I let out a short, nervous laugh.
“Right…”
He slowly gets up from his chair and gathers his things.
“Then we’ll go home after this,” he says.
“And see how you tell your parents.”
I nod, though my stomach instantly tightens.
“Yeah…”
Samuel pauses for a second by the table, then adds more quietly:
“And Idris…” I look up.
“You don’t have to tell them perfectly. I can continue.
”
I remain silent.
I take one last look at the bowl of fruit that remains almost untouched, then I stand up too.
“Okay,” I mutter.
And this time… it doesn’t seem like I have an option to avoid.
Just one thing I have to do.