Chapter 14
Ben
Corinne’s got her elbows braced on the table, picking at a salad she hasn’t touched. Arrow is already on his second beer, the bottle sweating every time he picks it up. I shovel a forkful of lasagna into my mouth, but the food tastes like cardboard.
This is supposed to be family night. Board games, shit-talking, the kind of normal other people post about online.
Instead, everyone's walking on eggshells, and I'm about two seconds from losing my mind.
Arrow looks at me, then her, then me again. "You good, Cori? Looks like you’re trying to kill that salad before it escapes."
She jumps a little, fork clattering against the plate. "Sorry. I just…long day." Her phone buzzes next to her, and she glances at it, then flips it face-down.
"Anything you want to talk about?" I press, feeling something twist in my gut. The tension in the room could cut steel.
Corinne shakes her head. She finally meets my eyes, but only for a split second before her gaze drops to her napkin. "Nope. Just tired. You know how the end of the month is at work. Payroll headaches."
But I know that look. Corinne never dodges anything unless it’s bad.
Really bad.
I try again. "Are you sure? Because you’ve barely touched your food, and you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for a ransom demand."
Arrow snorts, but the sound is hollow. Even he can tell this isn’t just normal Corinne anxiety.
"Give it a rest, Ben," she mutters, pushing her chair back a few inches. "I said I’m fine."
Nobody moves. The silence stretches. My hands curl tight on my glass, the sweat from the cold drink soaking my fingertips.
I look over at Arrow, hoping he’ll bail me out. His mouth is set in a flat line. The only person more uncomfortable than me in this moment is probably the fucking lasagna.
“Cori, what’s going on?” I keep pressing.
She doesn’t answer.
She continues to sit there, jaw clenched, staring at some spot on the table. The air feels charged, feeling as if I say one more word, the whole thing will blow up.
It’s Arrow who breaks first, tossing his napkin onto his empty plate. “Hell, at this point it’s probably better if you just rip the Band-Aid off.”
Corinne’s eyes flick to mine, glassy now.
Shit.
She takes a shaky breath, her fingers digging at the napkin in her lap. “Fine. You want the truth? I saw April today.”
The name lands like a sucker punch. My whole body tenses.
Arrow blinks, beer halfway to his mouth. “April? Like, his April?”
Corinne nods, cheeks flushed. “At the clinic. I was picking up some paperwork and she was leaving...”
She stops, biting her lip, and glances away again.
"And?" My skin is prickling, dread crawling up my spine.
She finally forces herself to say it. “She’s pregnant, Ben.”
I start to feel dizzy.
Arrow sets his bottle down so hard the label peels off in his palm.
Corinne keeps talking, desperate now that the floodgates are open. “She’s really pregnant. Like…" her hand makes a motion around her own stomach. "There’s no hiding it. She was holding ultrasound pictures.”
My jaw clenches so tight it hurts. "You're sure?"
Corinne huffs, sounding annoyed. "No, dumbass. She’s pretending for the shits and giggles. Yes! I’m sure. She looked so scared, Ben. I think she thought I'd judge her or something. I mean, I guess, I kinda did."
I can't get my brain to stop spinning. Every fucked-up scenario, every memory of April swirling together until I feel like I might puke.
Arrow leans forward. For once, there’s zero humor in his eyes. “Did she say it was Ben’s?”
Corinne shakes her head again. “She begged me not to tell him. Swore it wasn’t his. That it happened six weeks before she met you. But…” She shrugs, helpless. "She looked so wrecked, Ben. Like she wished it was."
Every word is a hammer, driving the nail deeper.
I rub my hand over my face. My mouth is dry as sandpaper. My heart actually stutters. For a second, the room fades, except for the ringing in my fucking ears.
Corinne keeps talking, her words tumbling over each other. "I saw it on the ultrasound. A little peanut, big enough to see the head and tiny hands."
Arrow slumps back, “Holy shit.”
Shit is right.
My hands are gripping the table so hard it might crack under my fingers.
Six weeks before we met, Club Purgatory. April in white, gasping under me, her body shaking as I made her come for the first time. Her shy little laugh, the scent of her hair.
No. Fucking. Way.
Corinne’s trying to read my face. “Ben, is…is it yours?”
The look on her face scared, but hopeful. It nearly splits me open.
I can’t pretend. Not about this. Not when the truth is slowly crushing my lungs.
"It has to be," I choke out. "April never…she was a virgin when I… when we met. It lines up. All of it."
Arrow lets out a long, low whistle, running a hand over his bald head. “Christ, man.”
Corinne finally lets her hands fall into her lap, napkin twisted tight in her grip. “She begged me not to tell you, Ben. Said she didn’t want to ruin your life.”
My throat burns. “She’s not ruining a fucking thing.”
Arrow’s watching me, eyes sharp. “What are you going to do?”
Corinne’s looking at me, too. Hopeful. Terrified. I don’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
“I’ve got to find her,” I say, pushing my chair back with a scrape and heading straight for the door.
One minute, I’m at the table, Arrow and Corinne staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. Next, I’m flying down Elm, lines on the pavement blurring past my window. Every red light feels like someone slamming the brakes on my chest.
All I can think about is April, standing there in front of Corinne, scared and alone. The way she begged Corinne not to tell me and ruin my life, like she actually believed that was possible.
Fuck that.
The whole drive, my brain is playing the world’s worst highlight reel. The last time I saw her, the way she looked at me like I was the only real thing left in her broken world.
Now she’s alone, surrounded by people who probably treat her like shit on a good day.
The city lights cut across my windshield. I gun it down her street, not caring if I eat a speeding ticket; not caring about anything except her.
When I slam the car into park, I barely notice I’m halfway across the driveway. Doesn’t matter. I’m on the porch in three steps, my boots heavy against the wood.
Inside, it’s a war zone.
I catch a glimpse through the living room window.
April is standing in the hallway, hair falling everywhere, cheeks streaked red with tears.
Her shoulders are hunched and her arms are locked around her belly like a shield.
The house is full of their voices, so loud I can hear every word even from outside.
April’s stepmom is in her face, makeup caked heavily and red lips twisted. “You have two choices, April. Either get rid of it, or get out of this house. You want to play at being grown up? Then you can go do it somewhere else.”
“No daughter of mine is raising a bastard under my roof. You’re an embarrassment.” Her dad’s harsh words cut right through me.
April doesn’t crumble. She stands there, face streaked wet, body shaking, but she holds herself up anyway. Brave as hell. My heart splits open watching it.
They’re blocking the staircase, arms crossed like prison guards.
April’s voice shakes hard. “I’m not…I’m not ending it. I’m keeping my baby.”
Her stepmom rolls her eyes. “Fine. Pack your bags, and don’t even think about coming back.”
Her dad, red in the face, veins bulging. “You ungrateful little bitch. After everything we've done for you, and this is how you repay us?”
April starts sobbing, the sound ripping through me.
I don’t think. I react.
I pound my fist against the door so hard I think I hear something crack. The frame? My own hand? Who fucking cares.
“April!”
The noise inside goes dead.
The door flies open.
April stands there, eyes huge and wild, lips parted like she can’t get any air. She’s trembling, and for a second I think she might faint.
I step in before she can slam the door in my face. Her stepmom makes a face.
“Who the hell are you?”
April opens her mouth, then shuts it. She’s frozen, words stuck.
I plant myself between her and her two psycho parents. “The name’s Ben Hayes. I’m April’s…” I glance at her, see all hope dying on her face, and decide to just take the bullet, “I’m the father of her baby.”
You could hear an atom bomb drop.
“Ben, no. You don’t have to do this.”
Her dad actually laughs, a snort of disbelief. “Is this some kind of joke? April barely knows you.” His face is an ugly shade of purple now.
Stepmom instantly attacks, arms up. “You showed up just in time to move her into a cardboard box, I guess. We’re done coddling her.”
April’s silent, tears streaking down her cheeks.
I turn to face her, keeping my voice low enough so only she can hear.
"That night, April? The note. You said you wanted to feel wanted. That was me. That’s the first night we met."
She gasps, hand flying to her mouth. Her eyes are huge. “It was…you?”
I nod. "I should’ve told you sooner. I’ve never stopped thinking about it. Not for one second."
April looks like she might break, right here.
Her dad tries to cut in. “Get out of here. She’s not going anywhere with some liar…”
I cut him off, harshly. Meaning every word. "April and our child are coming home with me. Somewhere she’s going to be and feel safe, wanted, and loved."
April looks up at me, raw and vulnerable. Her hand slides down, cradling her belly, and she nods.
I turn back to her folks. "Go ahead. Throw every word you want at us. It changes nothing. She doesn't have to stay where she's not wanted."
Her stepmom's face twists, "We're not paying for any more of her mistakes. You want this circus, it's your problem!"
April barely hears her. She’s already halfway up the stairs, one hand on the banister and the other on her stomach. “Give me a minute,” she says softly. “I just need to grab a few things.”
Her legs are shaking, but she doesn’t hesitate. Step by step, she gets herself up the stairs and out of the line of fire.
I stay put, arms folded, blocking anyone from chasing after her. Her dad tries to intimidate me, but I don’t even spare him a glance.
All I care about is April, and the life we somehow made together. The rest of them? They can go to hell.
As long as I live, no one’s ever going to make her feel alone again.