Chapter 53
fifty-three
Liana
The room is dimmed just enough that the screen becomes the focus.
Soft light spills across my stomach as the technician moves the wand slowly, deliberately, her expression calm in that way that tells me she’s done this a thousand times before, that this is routine, normal, even if it doesn’t feel that way to me.
My fingers curl slightly in the paper lining beneath me, the crinkle loud in the quiet room, my body still not entirely used to this.
To any of this.
Pregnancy.
Appointments.
Scans.
The reality of it all sitting heavier now than it did even a few days ago.
“Alright,” she murmurs, adjusting slightly. “Let’s just get a better angle here.”
The screen flickers. Shifts.
And then, a small shape.
Movement. A heartbeat. My breath catches as it hits somewhere deep enough that my chest tightens.
“That’s your baby,” she says gently.
And I feel it then. That emotion that’s been sitting just under the surface for days now finally rising, pressing at the back of my throat, my eyes stinging slightly as I stare at the screen.
My baby.
Our baby.
I don’t even realize one of them has taken my hand until my fingers are already wrapped around theirs.
Warm.
Grounding.
Real.
“Everything looks perfect,” the technician continues. “Heartbeat is strong, growth is right on track.”
Perfect.
The word settles into me slowly.
Carefully.
Like something I don’t quite trust yet, but want to.
I want to believe. She finishes up a few moments later, wiping away the gel, helping me sit up before stepping back.
“The doctor will come in and go over everything with you,” she says with a small smile before leaving us alone. I exhale slowly, my hand drifting instinctively to my stomach.
It still doesn’t feel real. But it’s getting closer. Every day. Every moment. A soft knock sounds before the doctor steps in, tablet in hand, expression warm.
“Everything looks really good,” she says, glancing between us. “Healthy pregnancy so far, no concerns at all.”
Relief settles deeper this time. More solid. More grounded. She steps closer, leaning lightly against the counter.
“How have you been feeling?”
I hesitate slightly.
“Good,” I say. “Better than I expected.”
She nods.
“How’s your nausea been? Any sickness?”
“On and off,” I admit. “But manageable. Nothing too intense.”
“And fatigue?”
I let out a soft breath.
“Definitely more tired than usual.”
“That’s completely normal,” she reassures.
I nod slowly. Then hesitate. Because there’s something else. Something that’s been sitting in the back of my mind for the last couple of days.
“I… have noticed something else,” I say carefully.
Her expression stays open.
“What’s that?”
I glance briefly at the men before looking back at her, heat creeping into my cheeks despite myself.
“I’ve been… more…” I pause, then just say it, because there’s no graceful way around it. “More turned on.”
The room shifts. Not dramatically. But enough that I feel it. The subtle change in energy beside me. The way their awareness sharpens. The way they react without saying anything.
The doctor just smiles slightly.
“That’s actually very common,” she says easily. “Hormones during pregnancy can cause swings in libido. Some women experience a decrease, others an increase. Both are completely normal.”
I nod, trying to ignore the heat still sitting under my skin.
“So it’s… okay?” I ask. “To be… having sex?”
She lets out a small laugh.
“Absolutely. There’s no medical reason for you to avoid sex at all. This is a healthy pregnancy. No complications. You’re completely fine.”
Something in me settles at that. A quiet permission I didn’t realize I needed.
“Okay,” I say softly. “That’s… good to know.”
She gives me a reassuring smile.
“If anything changes, you let me know. Otherwise, we’ll book your next appointment and keep monitoring as normal.”
The appointment wraps quickly after that.
Routine.
Simple.
Normal.
And yet, it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like everything is shifting. Again. The air outside feels different. Cooler. Sharper. Real.
I take a breath as we walk toward the car, still holding onto that quiet emotional undercurrent from inside, still feeling slightly off-balance from everything settling into place.
Jackson breaks it first.
“Damn,” he says lightly, glancing at me. “Our girl’s getting a bit horny, huh?”
“Jackson,” I snap immediately, heat flooding my face. “You cannot say things like that in public.”
He just grins.
“What?” he shrugs. “It’s a good thing you’ve got three men who can take care of that.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” I mutter.
Zach huffs a quiet laugh under his breath.
Elijah doesn’t say anything, but I can feel the shift in him. That awareness again. That tension that isn’t quite tension anymore, just… presence.
We reach the car. And then... “Jackson!”
The voice cuts through everything.
Sharp.
I freeze.
A couple of people are moving toward us now, phones already out, cameras already lifting.
“Is that your girlfriend?”
“Why are you all coming out of the doctor’s?”
“Jackson, look here!”
The questions start overlapping.
Too fast.
Too loud.
Too familiar.
My body reacts before my mind does.
Tension snapping tight through me, something cold curling in my stomach as old memories rise too quickly, too easily. Flashes. Cameras. Voices. Judgement. Exposure.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jackson says immediately, his hand coming to me, grounding. “Don’t worry, sweetheart.”
“Elijah,” Zach says quietly.
Elijah is already moving.
“Get her in the car.”
There’s no hesitation in his voice. No uncertainty. Just control.
He guides me quickly, firmly, his hand steady at my back as he gets me into the car, blocking the line of sight just enough as the others follow.
The door shuts.
The noise cuts off.
Silence fills the space.
I exhale sharply, my hands still slightly tight in my lap.
“Well,” I say after a second, my voice a little shaky despite myself. “That was shit.”
Zach reaches for me immediately, his hand warm over mine.
“We can’t let that set the tone,” he says gently.
“I know,” I murmur. “I know.”
I swallow.
“It’s just… the first real moment of it.”
Of what this is going to be. Of what it means.
“And it’s only going to get worse after the gala tomorrow,” I add quietly.
The words settle heavy in the car.
Elijah’s voice cuts through it.
“If you don’t want to go,” he says, measured, controlled, “we don’t have to.”
I shake my head immediately.
“No.”
There’s no hesitation in me this time.
“We’re going,” I say firmly. “This is important. For Zach. For Evelyn.”
I glance at him.
“I already told her we’d be there.”
And more than that...
“This is where we step into it,” I add. “Properly.”
Where we stop hiding. Where we stop waiting. Where we let it be what it is.
Elijah watches me for a moment. Long enough that I feel it. Long enough that something in my chest tightens slightly.
Then he nods once.
“Security is already arranged,” he says. “Our guys are coordinating with the venue. It’s private property. Controlled access. Media will be managed.”
Of course it will. He’s already thought of everything.
“There won’t be any issues.”
I nod.
“I know.”
And I do. I trust that. I trust him.
But even with that, there’s still a flicker of unease sitting low in my chest.
Not enough to stop me. Not enough to change anything. But enough to remind me, this isn’t going to be easy. Not at first, not while everything is still fresh. Not while the world is still catching up to what we are.
I lean back slightly in my seat, my hand drifting to my stomach again. Feeling the quiet shift of everything inside me. Inside my life. Inside us.
This isn’t the same life I had before. It never will be again. And as the car pulls away, as the noise fades behind us, I let myself sit in that.
In the uncertainty. In the nerves. In the quiet strength building underneath it all. Because this, this is the beginning of something new.
And no matter how hard it gets, we’re not going backwards.