Chapter 20 Meant to Be
MEANT TO BE
STELLA
The hospital lights blur as I sprint through the parking lot, my lungs burning, my heart beating its way out of my chest. My mother is right behind me, breathless, calling my name, but I don’t slow down.
I can’t. Not when Jerrod had called and said words that struck fear into my soul—Get to the hospital. Aiden needs you.
I’m thinking the worst. Knowing Aiden is probably scared and needs me is the only thing keeping me upright.
Then a shape detaches from the shadows near the entrance, stepping into our path—it’s Jerrod.
“Stella—wait.” He’s wrecked, face stricken like he’s seen horrific things, and is that alcohol on his breath?
No. Please God, no. Don’t let my baby have been in an accident.
Fury detonates in my chest. “What happened?”
“I need to tell you something before you see him,” he says, frantic.
“Where is Aiden?”
“He’s inside, but there’s something you need to know.”
“What? Tell me.” I scream, pounding my fists into his chest. “Is Aiden inside? Is he alive?”
My mother loses her patience and steps in. “Stella. Go. I’ll handle him.”
“No,” Jerrod shouts, panic flaring. “She needs to hear this. Now. Before she goes in.”
I laugh—sharp and hysterical. “Hear what? Another threat? Another lie? You’re done, Jerrod. You get no more of my time.” I shove him.
“Aiden was never my son.”
I stop cold. His words don’t make any sense.
“What do you mean?”
His voice cracks. “We never slept together that night. When you were drunk. I lied.”
My breath punches out of me like I’ve been hit. The past rearranges itself in my mind, pieces snapping into place with a sickening clarity.
“No,” I whisper. “But—you told me—”
“I told you because I didn’t want you going back to Eli,” he admits, eyes shining with tears. “I saw how you looked at him. Even after you broke up. And when you told me you were pregnant, I panicked. I wanted you. I wanted… everything, and I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you to him.”
I stagger back, shaking my head. “You let me believe that you were his father for years.”
“I know.” His shoulders sag, voice shattering. “And I hate myself for it. But tonight, watching Eli save a boy—who wasn’t my son—if Aiden had died not knowing his real father…”
I snap. “You—you fucker!” The words rip out of me as I hit him again, and again. He doesn’t defend himself. Just takes everything I unleash upon him. “You stupid, foolish, tiny little man!”
“I know,” he says, voice breaking. “I deserve this. All of it. But I have a baby on the way now with my wife. Finally, my own child. If anything happened to it, I’d want it to know who its father really was. I’m sorry. I just can’t live with the lie anymore.”
Grief crashes through me. Rage. Relief. Betrayal. All of it tangled together until I can’t see straight. My world suddenly splits in two, between who I was before and who I get to be now.
“How could you? You were my friend. You helped my family through a tough time. But you stole my life,” I sob. “And Aiden’s. And you stole years Eli can never get back.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I won’t interfere anymore, I swear it.”
“You’ve wasted enough of my time. I’m done listening to you.”
I pause.
“I need to get to my son. And his real father.”
The words feel strange on my tongue.
And utterly right.
Aiden is propped up in a hospital bed, color in his cheeks, wires attached. When he sees me, he lights up—bright and alive—and I cry harder than I thought possible.
“Mom!”
I’m at his side in seconds, kissing his hair, his forehead, his hands. “Oh my God. I’m here, baby.”
“I’m okay,” he says quickly. “They said it’s just a concussion. Coach Eli saved me.”
My chest caves. Knowing he’s more than a coach. He’s a father.
“What happened?” I beg to know.
Eli stands at the foot of the bed, arms crossed tight as if he’s holding himself together by sheer will. His face is pale, eyes rimmed red.
“Jerrod showed up at the rink with Aiden. I could smell alcohol on his breath and I knew he—” He stops and shifts eyes to Aiden, tempering his words.
“I guess you could say he wasn’t there to become my new best friend.
He wanted Aiden to skate. But he distracted me, we argued, when I should’ve been watching him closer,” he explains hoarsely.
“I climbed onto the Zamboni and fell onto the ice. I know I wasn’t allowed to do that.” Aiden lowers his head, chin wobbling. “I’m sorry.”
Eli shakes his head. “If I hadn’t let Jerrod distract me—”
“If he hadn’t gone to the rink looking for a fight in the first place, you mean.” Mom cut in, her voice fierce and frank. “None of this would’ve happened.”
“You saved my son. That’s all that matters.” But there’s more he doesn’t know. Oh, God, how do I tell him Jerrod robbed him of the years he could have had with Aiden?
“Coach Eli was really brave, Mom.”
Eli breaks, covering his mouth with his hand.
I nod to my mother, who understands what I need to do. She squeezes my arm and stays with Aiden. I take Eli’s wrist and lead him into the hallway.
Through the glass window, I can see my son. Our son. And he can see us. My lips tremble so hard, I don’t know how I’ll get the truth out. I worry about Eli’s reaction.
“There’s something you need to know,” I breathe.
Eli looks me over, frowning, bracing for another blow. “Okay.”
“Jerrod was outside. He refused to come in. Said he didn’t deserve to.”
His body goes rigid. “He wouldn’t ride in the ambulance either.”
“I know why. He told me the truth about the night I was drunk. About the pregnancy.”
Eli’s breath catches.
“He lied,” I cry, tears falling. “We never slept together. There’s no way it was him.”
Eli sinks against the wall, blinking rapidly. “What? Does that mean…?”
“Yes.” I step into his space, cupping his face. “Aiden is our beautiful boy.”
“My-my son?” he chokes, tearing up, and he lets them fall, raw and broken, looking at me like the world shifted under his feet. I see the grief for lost years flash in his eyes—and right behind it, the quick glance at Aiden, and the fierce vow of protection for a little boy he now gets to call his.
“Oh, Eli,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I swear to you.
If I had, I would’ve chosen you every time.
If only I’d have done so many things differently back then, I could have spared us all of this.
But look—we have such a beautiful boy that is ours, and we can celebrate that together. We can be the family we both want.”
“Come here,” he reaches for me and pulls me into him. Our bodies meld together, always perfect, the way they were meant to fit. “I loved you back then, Stella,” he sobs. “I don’t think I ever stopped. And I love you even more now. You’re the mother of my child.”
“I love you, too,” I cry. “We have a son. Surprise.”
Our foreheads meet, and we chuckle, breaking the tension. We cling to each other in the hallway, hearts pounding in sync, watching our son with my mom through the glass. They’re watching us, and he’s probably wondering what the heck is going on.
“Mom, don’t cry,” he calls, holding out his hand, motioning for us to come back in.
“Are you ready to meet your son?” I ask Eli. “I have no idea how to tell him all of this.”
“We’ll do it together. We’ll figure it out. Everything together from now on. I love you,” he says again, squeezing my hands.
“I love you, too, so much. I want to prove it every day from here on out.”
We go back into the room, and surround Aiden’s bed—my mother on one side, Eli and I on the other. His arm is around my back, holding me close into his side, the support much appreciated as my knees are about to give in.
Aiden looks between us, then smiles. “So, do I call you Mr. Coach Dad Eli now?”
Eli laughs through his tears. “What? How do you know?”
“Grandma told me what you two were talking about out there.”
We gasp and our eyes fall on my mom.
She shrugs it off. “What? I didn’t see any reason to skate around the truth and waste any more time. So I tore the band-aid off.” That’s so like her.
“Yeah, no more band-aids. Well, except this one on my head,” Aiden grins pointing to the wrap there.
He seems fine with all of this. But does he really understand? I know later, after he’s feeling better and everything has sunk in, that we’ll have a longer discussion about Jerrod, about what this all truly means. We’ll be there for him, and we'll all try to sort out our new reality together.
“Hey, Aiden,” Eli takes his hand, so small in his, gazing on him like it’s the very first time. “How about you call me just Dad?”
“I like that. Dad.” He hugs Eli’s forearm. We all take a moment to breathe again.
Then he takes his grandmother’s hand. I take hers across the bed. Our hands are all connected in a circle now.
We stand there, our little family framed by white hospital walls and humming machines, and I know—deep in my bones—this is right.
The past is done.
The present is ours.
And from here on out, every tomorrow will be spent together, exactly the way it was always meant to be.