26. Ben
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ben
FIXING
I called my mom this morning, and we talked about Katy.
She already knew something was off; she always does. She said Katy was probably just feeling overwhelmed, and we should do something nice for her. So, when I told her about the nursing clothes Katy had been thinking of getting, she was in the car within the hour.
Now I’m standing in Katy’s doorway holding three shopping bags and feeling, for the first time in days, like maybe I got something right.
“From my mom,” I say, setting them on the counter. “She picked the softest ones because apparently some of them aren’t soft and that’s a crime. Those were her exact words.”
Katy laughs despite herself. “That’s so nice. She didn’t have to do that.”
“You try telling her that.” I pull two coffees out of the paper bag and set the decaf one in front of her. “Also, for the record, this is a gift for me too. You’re going to look incredibly hot in all of it.”
She snorts, but the sound is halfhearted. “I’ll still look like a million months pregnant. I don’t look hot now, and I won’t look hot then.”
“You do, and you will.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling. I take it.
Then I add, almost as an afterthought, “Also, she wants to come down for the last few weeks to help out after. She’s already cleared her schedule.” I shrug. “I told her I’d check with you first. She just wants to be close. I thought it might be nice, having her around just in case we need help.”
Katy goes still. It’s subtle. Just a fraction of a second where something moves across her face that I can’t quite read.
“That’s…” She swallows. “That’s really thoughtful.”
“She’s excited,” I say. “You don’t have to say yes. She’d stay at my uncle Jack’s, she just—”
“No, it’s great.” Her voice is soft. “Tell her thank you.”
But her eyes are glassy in a way that doesn’t match the words.
I watch her turn away toward the counter, wrapping both hands around her coffee cup.
Something’s still off. I just know. The same way I know when a play’s about to break down before it happens. I don’t push her though. I’ll wait until she’s ready.
“You guys seriously didn’t have to buy all that for me,” she says.
“We wanted to,” I reply easily. “Plus, it’s a gift for me too. You can flash me anytime I want. And I know it’s a little selfish because the book—well, the audiobook—said it might be uncomfortable for you, but it also said they’d get even bigger which…”
“Ben, stop. Please. Can you be serious for a second?”
That shuts me right up. Because all I want is for her to know that I can be. Especially when it matters.
She hesitates, then says, “You don’t have to keep doing so much. Not when…”
“I told you, I’m not doing it because I have to. I’m doing it because I want to.”
She nods, but something in her face tightens. Like that wasn’t the answer she expected.
We stand there for a beat, the space between us suddenly fragile.
“I just… I’ve been thinking that we should consider doing the blood test. I feel like you deserve to know.”
The words hit me like a punch to the ribs.
I stare at her. “You want me to take it?”
Her eyes drop for half a second. “Yes. I think you should.”
Jesus Christ. I drag a hand through my hair, trying to breathe through the sudden pressure in my chest.
“Katy…” My voice cracks a little. “I don’t need a test to tell me how to feel about you. Both of you.”
“That’s the problem, Ben. What happens when this baby comes out looking like Jason? Or Logan?”
I shake my head. “Do you really think that’s what this is for me?”
Her eyes flicker.
“I’m already here. I’ve already chosen this. You can’t just use a blood test to push me away, Katy. Is that what you’re trying to do?”
The words hang between us.
I’ve been to the appointments. I’ve talked to her stomach. I’ve spent nights awake reading baby books and trying to figure out car seats.
And no, I don’t know whose baby this is. But I do know how I feel about them. And I thought she knew that too. “I’ve told you this a million times. If that baby is someone else’s, I’ll still be here. I’ll still be excited to be here.”
She shakes her head and gives me a small smile. I can’t tell if she’s happy or sad, and it’s driving me crazy.
“But it’s not fair of me to ask that of you. You have places to be and things to do.”
“Are you having doubts about us? Is that it? Did I do something wrong?”
“Of course not. You’ve been amazing. I just don’t want you to hate me.”
“That would never happen.”
“That’s what you think now.”
“Katy…”
“I’m sorry, we can talk more tomorrow. I think I’m just overwhelmed and tired,” she says. “I should probably try to take a nap.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say. “I’ll head out and let you rest.”
Her eyes flicker with something—relief or regret, I can’t tell.
At the door, I turn back. “Hey, I meant what I said.”
She frowns slightly. “About what?”
“Being excited.” I hold her gaze. “About all of this. About us.”
She swallows. “I know.”
I wait for her to say something else. But she doesn’t.
Driving home, I replay the afternoon on a loop, trying to pinpoint when the shift happened.
A thought creeps in, unwelcome and sharp.
Did I say something wrong? Does she not want me to be involved in the baby’s life?
Another follows, colder.
Did she finally realize I’m not good enough for them?
By the time I pull into my cousins’ driveway, my stomach is in knots. I tell myself it’s nothing. That she’s just tired. Overstimulated. Pregnant. But deep down, I know better.
Something shifted today.
And no matter how hard I try, I don’t know how to fix it.
KATY
My brain does not let me have a moment of peace. And my phone doesn’t either.
Geeta
Hey Katy, I hope you’re doing great. I just wanted to say sorry that the girls told the guys about your baby. It wasn’t me. I just wanted you to know that.
Katy
That’s okay, Geeta, I know who it was.
Geeta
Well, I hope you’re not too mad at her. The guys are her friends too, and she felt like they had a right to know. The dates are kinda all tangled up, so…
Katy
Whatever you need to tell yourselves.
Every conversation lately feels like another reminder that my life stopped being mine the second people found out I was pregnant.
Now everyone looks at me weird no matter where I go.
And they also have opinions. So many opinions. About me and Ben especially.
The worst part is that nobody even says it like I ruined my life.
They say it like I ruined his. Like he’s noble for staying. Like he’s sacrificing so much by choosing me.
Maybe they don’t mean it that way, and it’s just me projecting, but I still hear it every single time someone looks at him with pity instead of excitement. And all I can think is, what if one day he starts looking at me that way too? What if he resents me? The thought makes my stomach twist.
I want to keep him. I want him here every morning, drinking coffee and making me laugh. I want him to say ridiculous things, and I want him showing up with bags of things nobody asked him to buy. I want him beside me when the baby comes. I want him beside me after. I want him forever.
But the more I let myself imagine it, the easier it becomes to forget that he has a big, beautiful future waiting for him.
A real one. When he’s not with me, he’s training, getting ready for his final year before the draft.
He’s the biggest college football star in the country. He has a real shot at making the NFL.
That shouldn’t have to change because of me. All I’d do is slow him down and jeopardize that.
The idea of not being the one standing beside him when all of that happens makes me feel physically sick—but not as sick as the thought of being the reason he never gets it.
BEN
I’ve been trying to see Katy for days now. She claims she’s busy because she has a deadline. Which feels like complete bullshit.
Because even when she’s taking a break from writing, she’s still being weird, so I decide to take matters into my own hands. The solution is simple. If Katy feels weird, I’ll just… be better. I’ll try harder.
I’ll be more helpful and more present. I can do that. I’m excellent at adjusting my game when something’s not working.
I show up at her house with coffee, a bag of bagels, and three different prenatal books I found online at two a.m.
“Wow,” Katy says when she opens the door. “That’s… a lot.”
“It’s called being prepared,” I correct, holding them up. “There’s a lot of different philosophies about… every fucking thing. I figured we could see which ones resonate more.”
She laughs, but there’s tension in it. “Ben.”
“What?” I ask. “Too much?”
She hesitates. “Just… unnecessary.”
I step inside anyway, setting everything down neatly on the counter like I still belong here. Like I haven’t acknowledged the distance she’s been putting between us. I don’t miss the way she watches me.
Throughout the day, I keep finding ways to help. I decide we need to wash all of the baby’s clothes now. Then I fold them and arrange them in the dresser perfectly. Both by age and color.
“I don’t need you to do all this,” she says at one point, with her arms crossed.
“I know. But I want to.”
There it is again, that flicker in her eyes. The one I can’t name.
Later, when we’re sitting on the couch, I mention offhandedly, “I talked to my agent today. If things keep going well for me, next year I’ll land on a good team. Hopefully nearby, but if it’s far, we can make it work. Lots of guys do.”
Her body goes still. “Make what work?” she asks carefully.
“Us.” I glance at her. “You and the baby maybe coming with me to wherever I end up.”
The silence stretches.
“That’s… really sweet,” she says finally. “But you don’t need to plan your life around me.”
The words hit me too hard.
“I’m not.” I frown. “I’m planning it with you.”
She looks away. “I just don’t want you feeling trapped.” Her voice softens. “You have so many options, Ben.”
Options. Like she’s reminding me she hasn’t decided she wants me.
“I’m not trapped. I’m choosing you. Willingly.”
KATY