THIRTY-FOUR
SERENA
“Chase, wait!” My voice cracks, but he’s already shoving through the door of the diner.
I fumble for my bag with shaking hands, shoving out of the booth so fast the table jolts. My legs feel unsteady, but I force them to move. I should’ve gone to the ranch last week. Or knocked on his apartment door. Done this some other way. Some braver way. But I was scared. Terrified of this exact outcome.
So I hid. Holed up over Christmas with my family, letting their warmth wrap around me like a blanket. They’ve all been brilliant. Elle promising to raid her attic for baby clothes if it’s a girl, Mom and Dad telling me they’ll help with childcare when I go back to work, both of them hugging me so tight I thought my ribs would crack, whispering how much they love me. But they weren’t the one person I had to tell.
By the time I push through the diner door, tears are already burning down my cheeks. Chase is moving fast, long strides, shoulders tense, already halfway to his truck.
“Chase!” I call again, catching on a sob. I will him to stop. To turn around. To sweep me into his arms and promise me it’s going to be OK. In the fantasy I’ve barely let myself think about this week, Chase would kiss me, deep and searching, before asking me what I need, then slipping his hand through mine and never leaving my side.
Instead, Chase doesn’t even slow, and the hurt threatens to split me wide open.
“It’s OK. I get you’re upset,” I shout. “So was I. I was scared, too. But we can talk about this. Please?—”
I break into a run, my boots hitting the wet tarmac, but by the time I reach the edge of the lot, his truck door is already slamming shut. A moment later the engine roars to life, and he’s gone, leaving me standing alone and cold under a sky that threatens more snow. Tears blur my vision, and it takes everything in me not to collapse to the ground. But I won’t fall apart. I dig into my bag and pull out my phone, calling Elle like I promised I would.
“Serena, hey.” Hearing my sister’s voice causes fresh tears to fall onto my cheeks. “How did it go?”
I let out a shaky laugh that’s nowhere near convincing. “Well, I told him… and then he stormed out of the diner and ran away while I chased him across a parking lot.” I try to say it lightly, like it’s some bad sitcom, but the quiver in my voice ruins the act.
“Oh, Serena,” Elle whispers, and I can hear the ache in her tone. For a second, I swear I feel her arms wrapping around me from miles away.
“What are you going to do?” she asks softly.
“Right now? I’m going to see my gynecologist. After that, I don’t know.” My throat burns with the truth of it. I’ve been clinging so hard to the idea of telling him, of finally getting the words out, that I never thought past this moment.
There’s a pause before Elle speaks again, steadier this time. “Come home, Serena.”
“What?”
“Liv’s moving out this week anyway, right? The lease is up. You haven’t signed a new one or found a roommate. Just… come home. Come back to Idaho Springs. Today. Right now. You know Mom and Dad would love to have you, and I’m only two streets away. You don’t have to figure this out alone.” Her voice softens even more. “We’ll figure it out together. Me and John and the girls, Mom and Dad, we’ve got you. Whatever else happens, you’re not alone.”
I smile and wipe my eyes. It’s exactly what I needed to hear. Even if it’s not from the one person I wanted to hear it from. “You’re right,” I reply, and suddenly all I want is to be home. To sleep in my childhood bedroom and be surrounded by my family. “I’ll go speak to Tanya now. There’s only one game left, and the squad have their routine nailed down. They can manage without me tomorrow.”
“Of course they can,” Elle soothes.
The thought of not being there for my girls pinches. But the thought of standing on the sidelines watching Chase is worse. I need to think about myself now.
We talk for another minute, Elle promising to come over to our parents’ later with ice cream and candy. By the time we say goodbye, I feel stronger. I head to my truck, knowing whatever the future holds, this isn’t about me or Chase anymore. This isn’t about us or the fantasy of a vision-board future I’ve clung to for so long. It’s about the baby growing inside me. And deep in my bones, I know one thing: I will not let this child feel unwanted. Unloved. Unworthy. Not ever. This baby will know they are enough. That they are cherished, fiercely and without condition.
If Chase doesn’t want us, then I will still give this child every ounce of the love I have to give. I will raise them to know that their worth is not defined by who shows up or who walks away. They will know laughter and bedtime stories and warm arms around them when the world feels too loud.
If he can’t be the father they need, then I will be both. Brave enough for two. Strong enough for two. Loving enough for two. Because they are already mine. And I will not fail them. Because whether Chase believes it or not, love is enough.