Page 149 of Double Standards

“Hi, Gracie,” I offer with a smile.

Gracie doesn’t respond, just clings to Axel and whispers something in his ear. I can’t make it out, but whatever it is, it makes him chuckle—his gaze flicking to me with warmth before he nods in response.

“You look like you could use a drink,” Jem says with a wink, tugging me gently toward the house. She’s not wrong.

In the kitchen, Max has already poured us both a glass of wine. I stare at mine like it might bite.

Max leans against the counter, watching as Gracie leads Axel to the open-plan living room. They don’t say a word as they pass, but I can’t stop staring—Gracie’s tiny hand wrapped in his large one, tugging him toward her world of dolls and storybooks. And he goes, willingly.

Heart. Melting.

Jem catches me staring. Again. She doesn’t say anything, just smiles.

“Ready,” Max calls, pulling a chair out for her at the table in the dining area.

The house is cozy, full of warmth. No photos on the walls, but the kind of quiet love you canfeelin every corner. Jem is radiant, with bright eyes and soft pink lips, the kind of woman whose smile lights up a room. Max is smitten. I watch him find any excuse to touch her—a hand on her arm, a brush of fingers across her back. Like Axel with me.

Dinner talk shifts from light to dull the momentbusinesscomes up, and Jem and I make a graceful escape.

Back in the kitchen, I glance over and see Gracie now has Axel reading to her. She’s placing sparkly hair clips in his dark strands and he lets her—no protest, no complaints. He just smiles and listens, totally focused.

“He’s so good with her,” Jem says as we start clearing dishes.

“She doesn’t usually take to people, but she clearly likes him.”

I nod, unable to stop watching him. The way he listens to her every word, no matter how softly spoken—it’s like heunderstands her better than anyone. He’s gentle. He’s patient. And it’s... beautiful.

I love him. Utterly, hopelessly, undeniably. And I think Jem knows.

“I know that look,” she whispers, leaning in. Her voice is low, careful.

“What look?” I try to play innocent, but my mind flashes to this morning. The nausea. The panic.

She glances over her shoulder, checking the coast. I follow her gaze. Axel sits on the floor, ankles crossed as he leans back against the couch, glittery plastic clips now decorating his hair. He doesn’t care. He meets my eyes and raises a brow. Thatlookhe gives me... it’s electric.

Max steps in to take Gracie to bed, and I notice the moment Axel watches them go. There’s longing in his eyes. A flicker of something deeper. Something he won’t say out loud.

Jem nudges me, elbow gentle against my ribs. “That broody look.”

I snort, half under my breath. “I don’t have a broody look,” I mumble, but we both know I’m lying. I can feel it in the way my jaw is locked, my shoulders tight, like I’m trying to hold something in that doesn’t want to stay put.

“You didn’t even touch your wine,” she teases, swirling the half-full glass in front of me like evidence.

“I’m just not a fan of wine.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue, but I manage to keep my voice steady.

She raises a brow, unimpressed, like she’s reading every page I’m trying to keep closed. “You can’t lie, Cassie. Has no one ever told you that?”

I stay silent. I don’t need to answer. It’s written all over my face anyway—whatever Jem sees there makes her expression soften.

She leans in just slightly, dropping her voice. “How far along are you?”

My eyes widen. The words slam into me like a gust of coldwind. My throat closes around my next breath, the answer lodged somewhere behind my ribs.

Jem watches me closely. For someone I just met, she sees everything I’m trying to bury. Her eyes are kind but sharp—she doesn’t look away. “You haven’t told him, have you?”

I shake my head. I can’t speak. If I try, I know my voice will crack and spill everything I’m trying to hold together.

Her smile is warm enough to calm the shaking under my skin. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” she says, voice soft but certain. “He’s a natural.”