23. TRUST #2
“And Enzo, I am not sure if I should say this, but the Junior we knew as kids… When she was alive, we were close. He was like family to us—like a cousin or a brother—he was a normal, sweet little boy. I have no idea who he became, but I can only imagine the control his dad had over him.”
“I didn’t know much about him before everything happened, either, but yeah, his dad was a piece of work.”
She squeezes my hand.
What a complicated web this is. Christ.
“So, I got pregnant, but I didn’t know that.
I didn’t know anything about pregnancy or missed periods.
I was experiencing sharp pains and heavier-than-normal bleeding.
I came down with a fever, and I guess it got really bad.
My memories of that time are foggy, but I got so sick they had to get a doctor to the island on a helicopter. It turned out I had a miscarriage.”
“Jesus, Pippa,” Hudson pulls her in closer.
I move one of my hands up her arm. Comfort. How can I give her comfort? I want to wrap her in a cocoon and never let her out. She’s been through too much. How did she survive it all?
“By the time they got a doctor to the island, he said I was dying. I had an infection that had spread and I needed surgery. I guess they found a surgeon they could fly in and pay off. When I woke, I was told they had performed a hysterectomy. I had never even heard that word before then.”
I’m shell-shocked. Judging by Hudson’s expression, he is, too. There are no words. I stand. I need to hold her. I pull her from Hudson’s embrace and into my own arms. I tell her I’m so sorry.
Hudson joins me and puts his arms around her. We hold her for a few seconds when Pippa wiggles out of our arms.
I release her, confused.
“I don’t want your pity,” she says, stepping away, creating distance.
Building her walls, protecting herself. “I know it’s ugly and it’s hard, but it was a long time ago.
Now you know. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me.
I know I’m a mess and I know I’m broken, but I can’t handle your pity, I just can’t—”
“It’s not pity.” I lift her chin to look me in the eyes. “And you’re not broken. In the few weeks I’ve known you, you’ve proven you’re stronger than anyone I know.”
She swallows, but I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“Look at me, Pippa. Really look at me.”
She takes a deep breath and relaxes.
“Even if I never learned about this, I would still think you’re the strongest person I know.
But now that I do know? Fuck, bella… Not only did you survive literal hell, but you also escaped, you put yourself back together, and you came back and fought.
You didn’t have to do any of that, but you did. And why, why did you do all of it?”
She tries to look away, uncomfortable with so much vulnerability.
I don’t let her, keeping her chin in my palm.
“To stop them from hurting more girls,” she says quietly.
“Exactly. Not for yourself, not even for your sisters, not even for revenge. To stop them—something no one else was willing to do, even when the truth was made public, right?”
A tear slips as she slightly shakes her head, confirming I am right.
“So, I promise you, we don’t pity you,” I insist, “but do we hate that you went through that? Yes. Do we want to wrap you up and protect you from ever being hurt again?”
“Fuck yes,” Hudson answers.
“We care, okay? We care about you. Is that okay?”
She stands still for a moment before offering a small shake of her head in confirmation.
I direct the three of us to the couch. We sit with Pippa in the middle. She pulls her feet onto the couch, legs to her chest. Hudson and I face her, and we take one hand each.
“Can we start over?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“We went about this all wrong. You are a force that came into our lives, and we acted on desire and lust—which I don’t regret.” I smirk. “But I want more.”
“Me too,” Hudson whispers.
“You do?” she asks.
We both nod.
She looks between us, probably searching for any lies or doubts. She won’t find any. “I’ve never done…more,” she says slowly.
“Me either,” I say.
“Me either,” Hudson laughs.
“But the two of you. Aren’t you—"
“Yes,” I admit. “After everything you shared, is it okay if I open up, too?”
She nods her head in agreement.
“Some of what I’m about to share, not even Hudson knows,” I begin.
“I was about sixteen or seventeen when I was told I’d be marrying Ciara Donovan at twenty-one.
Our fathers wanted an alliance and the marriage was set.
I knew it was my future before I knew it was Ciara.
Because of that, I never really…explored,” I admit shyly. “Sexually.”
“Wait, what?” Pippa asks.
“I’m not a virgin,” I say with a deep chuckle, “but I promise you’re both way more experienced than me.”
“How is that possible? Have you seen yourself?” Pippa asks.
“Seriously,” Hudson adds.
“Hudson and Eva can attest I was a shy kid. I didn’t see the point in dating. If I’m being honest, I didn’t have a crazy sex drive. I know that’s odd for young men, and it always made me feel…different.”
Hudson grabs my hand.
“Guys in high school were always talking about how horny they were. And I had this best friend who was very sexually free.” I laugh looking at him.
“I felt the complete opposite. I assumed when I got married, I’d figure it out, but then that blew up.
Then my parents died. Then I had to keep my sister safe and take over the business, and I’ll be honest: sex and relationships have never been a priority. ”
“That makes a lot of sense,” Pippa says.
“It’s not that I never thought about Hudson physically when we were growing up—I did—but you weren’t an option for me,” I say, looking at him. “No one was, so what was the point?”
“Yeah, I felt that way, too,” he admits.
“Pippa, the night I saw you, you awakened something in me. I knew I shouldn’t have approached you at that bar, but I couldn't help myself.”
“She has that effect,” Hudson says wistfully.
“I know it feels like Hudson and I have all this history,” I continue, “and we do, but none of it had ever been romantic or sexual before you. And if you hadn’t stormed into my life, I don’t know if it ever would have been.”
“Now that you realize your feelings for each other, why would you want me to complicate that?” she asks earnestly.
“What you call complicated, I call feeling alive for the first time in my life. I don’t simply want you—I need you.” I caress her face. I move my other hand to Hudson’s face. “And I need him.”
They both sigh.
“I hated pushing you away, Pippa. I really did. It was stupid. I was scared. I can’t explain this feeling. But I know I want to give this a shot. Tell me we can give this a shot.”
“Fuck yeah,” Hudson says.
Pippa and I laugh. Then, she looks at me and says, “I’d really like to try. As long as none of us know what we’re doing, it should work out, right?” She smiles.
I laugh. “Let’s mess it all up together.”
“I like that,” she says.
“Me, too,” Hudson adds.
“We don’t have to do anything, but would you both like to stay the night? I need to know you’re both okay.”
They agree. By the time we finally drift toward the bedroom, the edge has worn off. The confessions are done, hard truths laid bare. What’s left feels lighter—fragile, maybe, but real.
Getting ready for bed is strangely easy.
Hudson cracks jokes about my bathroom and closet being too pristine for a single man. Pippa laughs at his antics. The sound loosens something in my chest I didn’t realize was clenched.
We’re exhausted. The bone-deep kind that settles after adrenaline burns out and the emotional hangover takes its toll.
We climb into my California King bed together like it’s the most natural thing we’ve ever done.
It feels right they’re here, that I don’t have to choose, don’t have to draw lines or push anyone away.
Tonight, at least, there’s no fear of that.
Hudson sprawls like he owns the place, familiar as breathing.
Pippa hesitates for half a second before curling in between us like she’s always belonged there. I wrap an arm around her without thinking. Hudson shifts closer, solid and warm on her other side.
Pippa’s breathing evens out first. Hudson follows not long after. I lie listening to the rhythm. The steady calm of shared space settles deep in my chest.
Nothing has felt this right in a long time.
Maybe ever.
For once, the weight I carry doesn’t feel so heavy.