5. Ben
CHAPTER FIVE
ben
WE’VE GOT YOU
If words won’t get through to Katy, maybe actions will. I’ve always been better at that anyway. I need her to know that I’m here. That I have her back.
Which is how I end up standing in the baby aisle at Target, surrounded by tiny socks and approximately one million onesies, trying to figure out which one says I care about you without actually saying it.
This aisle is terrifying.
Bottles. Pacifiers. Swaddles. Carriers. Each one promising to solve a problem I don’t even understand yet. I stare at a wall of bottles labeled colic control and natural flow, like choosing the wrong one might trigger a baby apocalypse.
“Earth to Ben.”
Ella appears beside me with a basket, grinning like she just caught me committing a felony.
“Are you scared of diapers?” she asks.
I drag a hand through my hair. “Do babies really need all this? How do you even pick?” I gesture helplessly. “There are, like, thirty different pacifiers.”
She bites her lip to keep from laughing. Fails. “Wow. My cousin, the big bad D1 quarterback, taken down by silicone nipples.”
“I’m not scared,” I mutter. “It’s just… there are a lot of options.” I clear my throat. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
Ella’s teasing expression fades. She bumps my shoulder, gentler now. “You won’t. Katy’s going to see this and melt.”
I snort. “Or throw it at my head.”
She laughs, loud enough that a couple of moms pushing strollers glance our way. “Ben, you are literally the sweetest guy I know. She’d have to be crazy not to appreciate this.”
If only she had any idea this isn’t me being a supportive cousin. That every bottle I pick up, every onesie I turn over, I’m silently asking myself the same question.
Is this for my kid?
I toss an absurd number of pacifiers into the basket. All different brands and different shapes. I’ve got backup plans for my backup plans. I will not screw this up.
Then I spot it.
A tiny onesie with a kitten in the middle. Mini Katy Cat.
I don’t hesitate. I grab it.
It’s ridiculous.
And somehow… perfect.
“Okay,” I say. “If she murders me for this, I’m haunting you.”
Ella smirks. “Fair. I’m sure she won’t though. You’re going to be the cutest uncle ever.”
I manage a smile.
But the word uncle lands sharp. It feels wrong.
I already want this kid to be mine more than I know what to do with.
KATY
I’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times.
How to say it calmly. How to keep my voice steady. How not to fall apart when disappointment inevitably settles into the room.
Except standing here now, I still don’t feel prepared.
I spent my whole life trying to be the perfect child. The impressive one. The daughter who never embarrassed them. I never thought I would be preparing to have this conversation.
“So…” I stand in the middle of the dining room. “I have some news.”
My parents look at me. My mother picks up her wine glass. My father waits, expression unreadable. His eyes are the same dark blue as mine and Declan’s, but there’s nothing gentle in them.
“I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
My mother doesn’t gasp. Doesn’t ask a question. She just sets her glass down with a soft, deliberate clink.
“Katherine.” Her tone is eerily calm. “This is unacceptable. Tell me you’re taking care of this.”
I stare at the tablecloth, my heart sinking, but I force the words out anyway. “I’m keeping the baby.”
My father’s jaw tightens. “Then you’ll need to get married immediately. Who is the father? You will bring him over so we can have a chat.”
I brace myself. “The father isn’t involved. And I’m not getting married just to make this look better.”
My parents’ faces are a mix of rage and disappointment I can’t bear to look at. My mother is the first to speak, disbelief in her voice. “You can’t be serious. You’ve embarrassed this family, Katherine.”
“What do you mean there’s no father involved? You need to think this through, Katy.” My father attempts to keep his tone gentle, but I see right through him. He’s trying to make me do what he wants.
“It means I’m raising this baby by myself. There will be no wedding, and there will be no ‘taking care of anything.’”
Something shifts in my mother’s expression then. Just for a moment.
“Do you have any idea,” she says, her voice lower now, almost quiet, “how hard your father and I have worked to make sure no one could dismiss you? Twenty years of the right schools, the right internships, the right everything.” She sets down her glass carefully.
“So that when you walked into a room, no one could look at you and see anything less than someone who belonged there.”
She sighs.
“And now you’re giving them a reason to.”
The words hurt more than the ones before, because I can almost hear the logic in them. I can almost see the version of this where she thinks she’s protecting me.
My father exhales slowly and drags a hand across his jaw. “Do you have any idea how hard this life is going to be?” he asks. Not angry this time. Almost tired. “You were supposed to have every opportunity, Katy. Every advantage. We spent years making sure of it.”
“This isn’t throwing my life away. It’s what I want.”
His expression hardens.
“Fine. Then you can forget about your trust fund,” my father snaps.
“And pack your things. You’re done here.”
The words hit like a slap.
I stare at him, waiting for him to take it back. To say anything except this.
“I expect the world to dismiss me,” I say quietly.
“I expect people to judge me. I’ve always known that.
” My voice shakes, but I don’t stop. “But I didn’t think I’d have to expect it from my own parents.
I spent my whole life trying to make you proud.
I knew the rest of the world might look at me differently after this.
I just never thought it would take only one mistake for me to lose you. ”
The silence that follows is terrible.
Something flickers across my mother’s face. Not softness exactly. More like the shadow of it. A door cracking open and then closing again so fast I almost miss it.
“No.” My father’s voice is final. “You made your choice.”
My vision blurs. For a moment, the room feels too small. Too quiet. Like all the air has been sucked out of it. Still, I cling to the last shred of hope that they’ll take it back.
Declan’s voice slices through the silence. “Are you kidding me?” He steps forward, placing himself in front of me without hesitation, shoulders squared, hands clenched at his sides. “She is your daughter,” he says, fury barely contained. “And that’s your grandchild. And this is how you respond?”
“This doesn’t concern you, Declan,” my mother says.
He laughs once, sharp and humorless. “It concerns me when you treat her like this.” He turns just enough to glance at me, then looks back at them. “If she’s not welcome here, neither am I.”
Panic surges through me. “Dec…”
“You want to cut her off?” His voice is steady now, lethal. “Then you’re cutting off both of us.”
My father lifts a hand, dismissive. “Fine. Do what you want.”
And just like that, the people who were supposed to love us most turn their backs on us.
The moment we walk through her front door, Grandma Patty has her arms wide open. She doesn’t ask questions. She just pulls me into her arms like she’s been waiting her whole life for this moment.
“Oh, honey,” she murmurs into my hair. “I’ve been preparing your room.”
I don’t make it past the first hug. I sob into her shoulder, shaking so hard I can barely stand. Declan stays behind me, fists still clenched, jaw tight, like he’s daring anyone to try to hurt me again.
Grandma Patty kisses my temple, then looks over at Declan.
“Both of you. You’re mine. And you’ll never be alone. Not now. Not ever.”
I press a hand over my mouth.
“They... they said...”
“Forget what they said,” she orders, fiercer than I’ve ever seen her. “They don’t see what’s in front of them. But I do. You’re strong, Katherine. And this baby?” She cups my face like it’s precious glass. “This baby is a blessing. Don’t you ever doubt that.”
Fresh tears spill over, but for the first time in weeks, they aren’t just from shame.
Declan finally lets out a shaky breath and pulls us both into the hug.
“Thank you, Grandma.”
“Don’t thank me.” Her voice softens as she strokes my hair. “This is your home. Always has been, always will be.”