Chapter 34
thirty-four
Liana
She stops just inside the room like she doesn’t want to come any further without knowing if she’s allowed, her gaze landing on me and then holding there, her expression shifting in a way I don’t think she means to show, something tight and emotional and barely contained.
“Hey,” she says softly, but her voice isn’t steady, and she clears her throat like she’s trying to force it to be. “Are you okay?”
The question shouldn’t be simple, and it isn’t, but I still nod, even as I feel the weight of everything sitting behind the answer.
“I’m okay,” I say, and it’s not entirely a lie, but it’s not the truth either.
Her eyes search my face like she knows that, like she’s trying to figure out what’s real and what isn’t, and for a moment neither of us moves, neither of us speaks, until I become aware of the others still around me, still watching, still holding the space in a way that suddenly feels too full.
I need something else.
Something different.
“Can I have a minute with Evelyn?” I ask, my voice softer now, but steady enough that it doesn’t sound like a suggestion.
There’s a pause.
Not a long one.
But long enough.
“No.”
Elijah doesn’t hesitate.
The word is immediate, quiet, but final in a way that makes something in my chest tighten.
I turn my head slightly toward him, ignoring the pull in my side as I do it.
“I just need a minute,” I say, holding his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he replies, just as quietly, but there’s something underneath it now, something that doesn’t bend easily.
“I’m not alone,” I say, glancing briefly at Evelyn before looking back at him. “I’m with her.”
“That didn’t stop anything last time.”
The words land heavier than he intends them to, and I see the moment it registers, the slight shift in Evelyn’s expression, the way something flickers across her face before she can hide it.
“That wasn’t Evelyn’s fault,” I say immediately, sharper than I meant to, but I don’t pull it back. “You know that.”
He doesn’t answer.
Doesn’t argue.
But he doesn’t move either.
I soften slightly, forcing my voice to steady.
“Please,” I say, quieter now, holding his gaze. “Just give me a minute.”
There’s a long pause this time. Long enough that I feel it in my chest. Then finally, “Fine.”
The word is tight. Controlled.
“I’ll be right outside.”
Jackson hesitates for a second before stepping back, his hand brushing lightly over mine.
“I’ll be close,” he says quietly.
Zach nods once, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer than the others before he steps away as well.
Evelyn moves slightly to the side to let them pass, but just as Jackson reaches the door, she catches his arm gently.
“Just so you know,” she says quietly, “I’m here with Mark. We were on our way to dinner. He’s outside.”
Jackson swears under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
“Of course he is,” he mutters. “Alright. Fine.”
Elijah leans in before he leaves, pressing a brief, careful kiss to my forehead, his hand brushing against my cheek like he doesn’t quite want to pull away.
“I’ll be right there,” he says quietly. “You call me if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine,” I whisper. “I’m with Evelyn.”
He studies me for a second longer than he should, like he’s trying to convince himself of that, before finally stepping back and leaving the room.
The door closes behind them.
And for the first time since I woke up, it’s quiet.
Not empty.
Just… different.
Evelyn exhales slowly, like she’s been holding that in.
“Well,” she says softly, glancing toward the door before looking back at me. “That was intense.”
A weak breath escapes me, something that almost feels like a laugh.
“Yeah,” I murmur. “That’s… kind of where they’re at right now.”
She moves closer then, pulling a chair up beside the bed, sitting down carefully like she doesn’t want to jostle anything, her eyes softening as she looks at me properly now that it’s just the two of us.
“How are you really?” she asks quietly.
Not surface.
Not polite.
Real.
I let the question sit for a second, because I don’t know how to answer it without everything coming with it.
“I’m…” I swallow, my voice catching slightly. “I’m trying to process it. Everything feels… like it didn’t happen to me, and then it hits all at once and I can’t breathe properly again.”
Her expression tightens.
“I can’t believe it was fucking Paul,” she says, her voice dropping, anger threading through it now. “Of all people, him?”
I nod slightly, the movement careful.
“Yeah.”
She shakes her head, her jaw tightening.
“If I ever saw him again, I’d kill him myself,” she mutters, and then glances at me, something shifting in her expression. “Although… judging by the way those three are acting, I’m guessing that’s not exactly an option anymore.”
I hold her gaze.
“No,” I say quietly. “It’s not.”
She studies me for a second longer, then nods once.
“Good.”
The word lands with a kind of finality that surprises me.
And then something in me breaks.
I reach for her, and she’s there immediately, leaning in carefully, wrapping her arms around me without touching anything that might hurt, holding me in a way that feels familiar, grounding in a completely different way than the others have.
“I’ve got you,” she murmurs softly. “I’ve got you.”
I breathe her in, the comfort of something normal, something known, something that isn’t wrapped in tension and fear and control, and it loosens something in my chest enough that I can finally say what’s been sitting there.
“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” I admit quietly.
She pulls back slightly, just enough to look at me.
“What do you mean?”
I hesitate.
Not because I don’t want to tell her.
But because saying it makes it real in a different way.
“I’m married,” I say finally.
Her brows knit together immediately.
“What?”
“To Elijah,” I continue, holding her gaze. “We got married the night before everything happened.”
She stares at me.
Completely still.
“What do you mean you got married?” she asks, like she’s trying to make sense of it. “Like, actually married?”
I nod.
“It was… quick,” I admit. “We did it in private. No one else there except the guys.”
“Are you kidding me?” she breathes, leaning back slightly. “Why?”
“Because of his family,” I explain, my voice quieter now. “Taking his name means I’m under their protection. It gives me access to things I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
She processes that slowly, her expression shifting as it settles.
“And Zach and Jackson?” she asks.
“They were there,” I say. “It doesn’t change anything between us. It just means… legally, I’m his wife.”
She lets out a breath, shaking her head slightly.
“That’s… a lot.”
“I know.”
She looks at me again, something softer returning to her expression.
“And you didn’t think to invite me?” she adds, a small edge of humor slipping into her voice despite everything.
A weak smile pulls at my lips.
“It wasn’t exactly planned,” I say. “I found out that morning. By that night, it was done.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“Wait, was that the day we went dress shopping?”
I nod.
“The dress Jackson bought me.”
She stares at me for a second before letting out a soft huff.
“Wow,” she mutters. “Okay. Well… I guess we’re doing a belated hen’s day then.”
A small laugh escapes me, unexpected but real.
“I guess we are.”
The moment softens slightly.
Just enough.
“There’s something else,” I say quietly.
Her eyes narrow slightly.
“What do you mean something else?”
I swallow.
“I’m pregnant.”
The words sit between us.
Heavy.
Real.
She stares at me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
A breath leaves me that almost sounds like a laugh.
“We just found out,” I say. “When I woke up.”
Her expression shifts again, shock melting into something softer, something warmer.
“Oh my God,” she breathes. “Lia…”
I nod slightly, my hand resting unconsciously over my stomach.
“I’m just over six weeks.”
She leans back in her chair, processing it, her gaze flicking briefly to my stomach and then back to my face.
“So what does this mean?” she asks quietly.
“It means nothing changes,” I say, more certain than I expected to sound. “We’re still together. All of us. We’re going to raise this baby together.”
She studies me for a long moment.
“Well,” she says slowly, a small smile pulling at her lips, “I guess that makes me an aunt.”
Emotion hits me again, softer this time, warmer.
“Of course it does.”
She reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently.
“Jesus,” she mutters. “Okay. So… we’ve got a hen’s day to plan. And now a baby shower.”
A laugh slips out of me, mixed with something else, something lighter than anything I’ve felt since I woke up.
“Looks like it.”
And for the first time since I woke, something almost feels normal.