29. Holly
29
HOLLY
The first thing that greets me is a bleary swirl of ceiling tiles and a tangle of sounds. Something steady and beeping. Something softer—maybe voices. And then, a little closer, there’s Ethan’s face, hovering with a look that can only be described as ‘distress chic.’
Blinking, the room sharpens. The smell—well, it’s got that sterile hospital thing going for it, but I suppose a little IV drip and an unexpected nap on the world’s flattest pillow isn’t the worst thing. Not if it means waking up to those piercing, concerned eyes.
“Hey,” I murmur, just as Ethan’s hand clasps mine. His face is barely an inch away, all brooding worry that would look perfect on the cover of Angst Monthly.
“Hey?” He lets out something between a laugh and a sigh, visibly deflating like a balloon finally untied. “You’re saying hey? You just gave the entire Blizzards team their biggest scare since … since—” he pauses, clearly unable to think of a scare that might compete. “—the playoff game we almost threw last season.”
His brows are drawn so tight they could qualify as knots. I give his hand a small squeeze and attempt a smile. “Sorry for the little stunt. Just trying to keep things spicy.”
“Spicy.” He leans back, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”
Before I can answer, he’s up, calling for the doctor like he’s summoning back-up, and he’s gone in a flash, leaving me alone with Lauren and Mia, who waste no time swooping in with the grace of caffeinated hawks.
“Well, well,” Mia starts, eyebrows arched, her mouth twitching with a grin that spells nothing but trouble. “Look who’s got Chicago’s favorite brooding hockey player sprinting down the halls like a lovesick golden retriever.”
Lauren joins in, a mock sigh escaping her. “Nothing like a dramatic swoon to get a guy’s attention, Hols.”
“Oh, you two…” I wave them off, though my smile is already spreading. A lovesick golden retriever, indeed. “I didn’t plan this, believe it or not. I’m not in the business of creating my own dramatic hospital arcs.”
Lauren nudges my arm, eyes twinkling with concern under the teasing. “You sure you’re okay? Any weird pain or dizziness? I mean, besides the usual drama-induced ones.”
“Nope, no pain.” Well, maybe a little heartburn—because, apparently, that’s a new part of my life now. I catch Mia’s look—the one that says, oh, I know exactly why you fainted —and my heart skips as my cheeks warm.
Just then, Ethan returns with the doctor in tow, who promptly starts his examination and peppers me with enough questions that my head spins again. Ethan stands nearby, arms crossed, jaw tense, a shadow of worry making his usually fierce expression look almost boyish.
“Well,” the doctor says at last, turning to Ethan and the others, “it seems it’s mostly fatigue. Probably from all the planning and stress.”
He looks at me meaningfully. “But I’d still like a few words with you in private before you check out.”
Ethan’s lips part as if he wants to say something, but he stops himself, nodding at Lauren and Mia to let them know it’s time to give us some space. They both give me thumbs-ups and head out, whispering something about ‘girl time’ with Mia throwing a wink my way that’s about as subtle as a flashing neon sign.
Once the room empties, Ethan moves in closer, lowering his voice, rough with emotion. “Holly, I’m … I’ve been a mess over this. I want you to know that I’ve been going through … things. Trying to manage it all. And somehow, I just ended up hiding it.”
I breathe, heart thudding, and manage a question that’s been nagging me like a little splinter: “Are you … are you seeing someone else?”
His face goes from worried to shocked to downright amused, like he can’t even believe the question made it out of my mouth. “Seeing someone else? Holly, if I even tried, I think I’d get cursed. No, not in a million years.”
Somehow, that assurance feels real and calming, like the final piece of a puzzle clicking in. He promises we’ll talk more tonight, at home, about everything. That he’ll tell me what’s been eating at him and finally clear the air. His hand warms mine with a squeeze, his thumb tracing circles that send a flush straight up my neck. “Tonight, Holly. Promise.”
And just like that, he’s gone, off to wrangle Ryan and Liam into his mysterious gala plans with Lauren. It’s only me, alone with thoughts flipping between joy, fear, and something new—something huge that I need to share with him, too.
When the doctor calls me in, it’s just me and the steady tick of a wall clock, a little too loud for my nerves.
“Miss Bennett,” he starts, shuffling a few papers. “I’m sure you already know this, but … congratulations. You’re pregnant.”
It feels surreal hearing it out loud, even though I’d seen those two telltale pink lines and nearly fainted right there in that convenience store. A thrill and a wave of terror crash over me. I nod, barely managing to stammer something resembling a ‘thank you’ before escaping the hospital.
Mia’s waiting, with coffee, ready to dive-bomb me with questions and worry. Her eyes flicker with something softer, knowing, as she nudges me toward the car. “Ready for some caffeine that isn’t in a hospital cup? Good, because I brewed the best caramel macchiato this side of Chicago just for you.”
I’m barely seated before Mia’s car takes off, her mouth ready to fire off a dozen more questions than I can answer.
“You know,” she says thoughtfully, glancing over at me, “Lauren’s going to figure it out if you don’t tell her soon.”
I sigh, the weight of secrets piling up fast. “I will. Tonight. After Ethan knows.”
The coffee shop is warm, fragrant with cinnamon and clove, the holiday decorations twinkling with just the right amount of sparkle. I settle into a corner, the walls pressing close with the cozy feel of well-loved spaces, trying to soak in the calm of the moment.
The bell over the door jingles, and a man strides in, pausing to scan the room before zeroing in on me, then he walks to the counter where Mia is standing and starts speaking to her. There’s a flicker of familiarity—sharp jaw, tall build, but I can’t place him.
The café feels warm and familiar, the bustle of customers grounding. A caramel macchiato sounds perfect for my unsettled stomach, and from the corner where I curl up, I feel Mia’s eyes on me.
“You’ve got a visitor, but it’s up to you if you want me to reveal your identity.” Mia mumbles, sliding into the chair opposite with a smirk.
“Who is it?” I sigh, casting a wary glance around.
“That guy,” she nods toward the stranger who’s now sitting in a corner. “Came in asking directions to Ethan’s place. Says he’s family?”
“What?” My eyes widen.
Mia gives me an encouraging nudge as she chuckles. “That’s my reaction, too. Wanna speak to him? This way, you’d get to hear more about your mysterious boyfriend.”
The thought of hearing about Ethan from someone else brings a mix of warmth and nerves, but Mia’s words offer a steadying smile.
“There’s no harm. Send him over.”
Mia walks up to the stranger and whispers some words to him. His eyes scan the room, eventually settling on me. I watched as he approaches, casual confidence in each step until he’s directly beside her.
“Looking for Ethan?” My tone holds a hint of curiosity.
A smile, practiced and careful, touches his lips. “Yeah. You’re his … friend?”
Friend . I almost snort. “Sure. Friend, in one sense or another.”
The stranger nods. “Jake Carter.” He pauses, letting the name settle with the weight of familiarity, as if expecting it to have significance.
I nearly laugh at the irony, but manage to keep it polite. “Ethan’s not around currently. Didn’t even know he had family.”
“Oh, that’s not surprising,” he says, offering a hand that’s smooth as anything. “I’m Ethan’s cousin.”
I blink, a dozen questions firing off in my head, but only manage, “Hi! I didn’t think I’d ever meet Ethan’s family.” And then, with a half-teasing smile, “I was starting to think he was an alien, beamed in from Planet Hockey.”
Jake’s laugh is low, smooth. He looks around the café, then slides into the seat across from me, like he’s settling in for the long haul. There’s something sleazy about the way he watches me, something that immediately makes me wonder if speaking to this man is the right thing, but I put that down to nerves—too much of them are racing in my head right now.
“Well, truth is, Ethan’s a bit of a lone wolf,” he says, shrugging as if sharing some great, tragic secret. “Always was. We tried to give him a home, tried to be the family he didn’t really have. But, well, Ethan doesn’t really see it that way.”
His eyes go distant, thoughtful, while I try to wrap my head around this picture of Ethan as someone who rejected the family who welcomed him in. It doesn’t fit, doesn’t sit right, like a sweater two sizes too small.
“We gave him everything,” Jake continues, voice low and solemn, casting himself as the heartbroken martyr in this tale. “A family, love, all of it. But he just doesn’t care for attachments. If anyone’s hoping for a family with him…” His voice drifts off, like he’s leaving the thought unfinished, letting it linger in the air between us.
I wonder if he knows just how much doubt he’s just planted. His words grow, twist. My heart tightens, fear sprouting like weeds through freshly turned soil.
Jake stands, flashing a practiced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sorry for rambling, Ms.?”
“Holly—”
“Holly.” He nods. “It’s just a sore spot for me and the rest of the family. I don’t know what you are to him, but you seem real nice. Even if you’re just his friend—don’t expect too much. Ethan’s not the permanent or settling down type.”
He ends with a little smile and then turns back to sipping his coffee. A silence settles between us and no words register in my brain. Jake Carter takes a quick glance at his wristwatch.
“Oh, I’ve got to run. Got someone else I’ve got to see. Maybe I’ll come back to check again.”
My head bobs in a tame nod as he leaves, slipping out the door like a shadow, leaving me there with a mess of emotions I can’t untangle. The picture he’s painted of Ethan gnaws at me, filling my mind with questions and making the upcoming conversation with Ethan feel like stepping into a storm.