Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
CHASE
I had no clue where she was taking me, but I’d follow this woman to hell and back. In a way, I already had—a few times.
My hands were still trembling from fighting off that whiskey at Callaghan’s, but now it wasn’t the alcohol I was craving.
It was answers. Twenty-four weeks pregnant.
The math was spinning in my head like a slot machine that wouldn’t stop, even as Elena’s car turned right off Main onto Oakpoint Road.
Oak trees, hundreds of years old and barren this time of year, lined the street. It was cold as balls outside, but it hadn’t snowed recently, so instead of the branches being coated with a line sheen of snow and ice, they were completely devoid of life.
We passed by house after house, fancy old Victorians that looked far too classy for Sable Point, but the few rich folks in town needed somewhere to live.
Elena’s car slowed, and she flicked on her blinker before she pulled into the driveway of a tired-looking Victorian.
Blue paint peeled off in patches, making the whole place look freckled and worn, like it was trying to shed its skin.
I parked my truck behind her, knuckles white on the steering wheel.
When the door to the detached garage opened, it hit me. This was her house. Not that cottage on Maple where everything had gone down. Where I’d last seen her before... before everything went to shit. Before Harbor Hall. Before I’d gotten clean just to come home and find out she was—
My stomach lurched. I pressed my palm flat against the cool window glass, trying to ground myself.
Elena had always been the strongest person I knew—spine of steel, refusing to break no matter what life threw at her.
I’d been hoping to channel some of that strength to get through these first weeks home.
I was ready to put in the work.
Or, I had been ready.
Until I saw the woman who owned every part of my heart and soul standing in front of me, pregnant. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Now, watching her silhouette in the dim light as she parked and climbed out of her SUV, one hand absently touching her belly? I didn’t know what to think. If the baby was mine, I’d missed everything. First ultrasound. First kicks. First...everything.
And if it wasn’t...
She stood just outside the garage, assessing me through the windshield of my truck. When my gaze finally caught hers, I burst into action, cutting the engine and jumping out. She led me toward the back door of the house as the garage whirred shut behind us, and the silence felt like a living thing.
If the baby wasn’t mine—if it was his—did that bastard even know? Was he still in her life somehow? The thought of him anywhere near her made my hands curl into fists, made me taste copper in the back of my throat.
No.
Not after what he’d done to her. Not after everything she’d survived. She wouldn’t.
I climbed the steps to her back porch, noticing that the bottom one was a little wobbly. I made a mental note to fix it for her.
She reached into her bag to dig out her keys, and I took stock of the state of the house. She had exterior cameras installed on the back porch and the garage. I’d bet money there were some out front and inside as well. She wasn’t taking any chances after her summer from hell.
Elena’s key scraped in the lock. My hands itched to reach for her, to pull her close and demand answers. But I kept them shoved deep in my pockets instead.
The door swung open with a protesting creak.
Elena flicked on the lights, illuminating a mostly empty kitchen.
A few cardboard boxes were stacked against one wall, labeled in her scribbly doctor’s handwriting.
The countertops were bare except for a coffee maker and a fruit bowl with two sad-looking apples.
“I haven’t had much time to unpack,” she said softly, setting her keys on the counter. “Between the hospital shifts and...” Her hand drifted to her belly again.
There it is. The elephant in the goddamn room.
“Elena,” I said as gently as I possibly could. “We need to talk about—”
“Chase.” She turned to face me, those dark eyes piercing straight through to my soul. “I know we do. But first, I want to show you something.”
Elena led me up the creaky stairs, each step feeling like we were climbing toward something monumental. The house was quiet except for our footsteps and my thundering heart.
She paused at the top of the landing, her hand hovering over a closed door. “I’ve been working on this room whenever I can’t sleep.” Her voice was soft, uncertain. “Which is... often.”
The door swung open, and my breath caught.
Pink.
Everything was pink.
Soft ballet slipper pink walls. Blush curtains framing the window. A white crib with the palest pink bedding I’d ever seen. Even the fucking rocking chair in the corner had a pink pillow.
A girl. We’re having... she’s having... a girl.
My knees went weak. I gripped the doorframe, trying to steady myself as the room spun. A mobile hung above the crib—delicate butterflies dancing in the draft from the heating vent.
“I know it’s a lot of pink,” Elena said, wringing her hands. “But after everything that happened this summer, all the uncertainty...” She touched her rounded belly. “I needed to know something for sure. Finding out the gender felt like having one tiny piece of control.”
The butterfly mobile kept spinning lazily, casting shifting shadows on the wall. My throat felt like I’d swallowed sand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t wait—”
“Why should you?” The words ripped out of me before I could stop them, sharp and bitter as battery acid. “It might not even be mine.”
Elena flinched like I’d slapped her. Her hand dropped from her belly as if it burned.
Fuck. FUCK.
“I’m sorry, Sweetness. I—”
The moment that word—Sweetness—slipped from my lips, I watched something break inside her. Those dark eyes filled with tears, and before I could even process what was happening, her knees buckled.
I lunged forward, catching her before she could hit the floor. “Whoa!” The familiar feel of her in my arms sent electricity through my whole body as I lowered us both to sit on the carpet of the nursery.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” I started, thinking I’d fucked up again. But she was already shaking her head, her fingers clutching desperately at my shirt as sobs wracked her body. The sound gutted me. Elena—my strong, fierce Elena—completely falling apart in my arms.
“Shhh, I’ve got you,” I murmured, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other wrapped protectively around her waist. She smelled the same and the dark hair under my cheek felt as silky smooth as ever. Her crying only intensified, each sob like a knife to my chest.
“It’s j-just hormones,” she choked out between gasping breaths. “The pregnancy... it makes everything...” She couldn’t even finish the lie, dissolving into deeper sobs against my chest.
Yeah, right. Hormones. Like I couldn’t feel the desperate way her fingers were clutching my shirt, like I couldn’t read the months of loneliness in every shuddering breath.
“I know, Sweetness,” I whispered into her hair, feeling her shudder against me at the word. “I know.”
We sat there on the floor of that pink nursery, Elena curled into my lap while months of pent-up emotion poured out of her.
I stroked steady circles on her back, my heart pounding so hard I was sure she could feel it where she pressed against my chest. I didn’t try to quiet her or tell her everything would be okay—we both knew better than that kind of bullshit.
I just held her, trying to be the steady anchor she needed while she fell apart.
When her sobs finally quieted to hiccupping breaths, I pressed my lips to her temple, breathing her in. “I shouldn’t have said what I did about...” My voice trailed off as my hand drifted to where her belly pressed against me. The reminder of everything still hanging between us.
She shook her head against my chest, and I could feel the tension returning to her body. Not ready for that conversation. Not yet.
“Just... just hold me?” she whispered, her voice raw. “Please?”
I pulled her closer, tucking her head under my chin where she fit perfectly, like she always had. “As long as you need, Sweetness,” I murmured, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “As long as you need.”
“Elena, baby.” I kept my voice soft, not wanting to startle her. “Promise me you’ll set the security system after I leave.”
She nodded, already half-asleep, dark lashes fanned against tear-stained cheeks. I’d learned that Andy had helped install the system last month—another thing I should have been here to do for her. Another way I’d failed her while I was getting my shit together at Harbor Hall.
“I mean it.” I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, memorizing the feel of her skin under my fingertips. “Set it as soon as I’m gone.”
My fingers trembled as I forced them away from her face.
The gentle swell of her belly was visible even under the covers, and Christ, the sight of it hit me like a punch to the gut every single time.
My child could be in there. My daughter.
The keys felt like lead in my pocket as I backed toward the door, fighting against the magnetic pull drawing me back to her side.
Just one more touch, one more moment—but no. That path led straight to relapse.
The blast of December air hit me as I stepped outside, but I waited on her porch until I heard the definitive click of the security system engaging. Only then did I let myself move toward my truck, each step feeling like I was dragging concrete blocks.
The dashboard clock read 1:17 a.m. I gripped the steering wheel, staring at the golden glow from her bedroom window until it disappeared.
Three liquor stores between here and home would still be open.
I knew their locations like I knew my own name—Miller’s on Fourth, Pete’s Package Store by the highway, the one and only gas station in town.
My hands shook as I pulled out my three-month sobriety chip, running my thumb over its smooth surface.
“One day at a time,” I muttered, shoving the truck into drive before I could change my mind.
The house was dark when I pulled in, but Mom had left the porch light on. She always did, even when I was a teenager sneaking in past curfew. I eased the front door open, wincing at the familiar creak of the third floorboard.
“Chase?” Mom’s voice drifted down from upstairs. Of course, she was still awake.
“Yeah, Mom. Go back to sleep.”
“There’s leftover lasagna if you’re hungry, honey.”
My throat tightened. Three months in rehab and she still couldn’t break the habit of trying to feed me. “Thanks, Mom. I’m good.”
My childhood bedroom felt smaller than ever, vintage Star Wars posters watching as I collapsed onto the twin bed that hadn’t fit me since middle school.
My feet hung off the end, but the discomfort felt appropriate somehow—another reminder of all the ways I needed to grow up, to be better. For Elena. For our maybe-baby.
I lay there in the dark, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars I’d stuck to the ceiling when I was ten, wondering if Elena had fallen back asleep. Wondering if she was dreaming about me the way I always dreamed about her.