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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ally

The familiar scent of my dad’s house wraps around me like a warm hug.

I sink into the plush couch, curling up under one of the blankets Mom made years ago. The TV hums softly, a nature documentary playing as Dad sits beside me, his reading glasses perched on his nose.

“You’ve been quiet, kiddo,” he says, glancing at me over the top of his glasses.

I manage a small smile, leaning my head against his sturdy shoulder. “I just missed you, Dad. That’s all.”

He presses a kiss to the top of my head, the bristles of his mustache tickling my scalp. “I missed you too, sweetheart. You’re always welcome here.”

The comfort of being here takes me back to when I was a little girl. Sitting on this very couch, eating bowls of popcorn and watching nature specials with him while he pointed out the coolest parts.

I feel a pang of guilt as I hide the real reason I’m here, but I just can’t bring myself to tell him yet.

I try to focus on the TV, but my stomach churns ominously. I haven’t felt right since this morning, and the nausea is creeping up fast.

“Hey, you okay?” Dad asks, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m fine,” I lie, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I bolt off the couch and head straight for the bathroom.

The nausea hits hard, and I barely make it to the toilet before I’m losing my breakfast. The harsh sound of retching fills the small space, and I hear Dad’s footsteps thudding behind me.

He kneels beside me, his large hand rubbing circles on my back and his other hand holding my hair away from my face. “Easy, kiddo. Let it out,” he says gently.

Tears spring to my eyes as the sickness finally subsides, and I collapse back onto the cool tile floor. Dad’s face is etched with worry as he crouches beside me. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, Ally.”

I shake my head, tears spilling over. “Dad, I…I’m pregnant,” I choke out.

Dad freezes for a moment, his hand still on my back. I don’t dare look at him, ashamed and scared of what he might say. But when he speaks, his voice is soft and steady. “Okay. That’s big news, Ally. How are you feeling about it?”

I glance at him, my lip trembling. “I don’t even know whose it is. I’ve…I’ve been seeing someone, but it’s…complicated.”

He nods, his eyes full of understanding. “Listen to me, Ally. No matter what, this baby is going to have the best grandpa ever. And I’m going to be here for you every step of the way. Got it?”

The tears fall faster now, but they’re mixed with relief. I throw my arms around his neck, holding him tightly. “Thank you, Dad. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, patting my back. “Now, let’s get you settled on the couch. You need to rest.”

We make our way back to the living room, and I curl up under the blanket again.

Dad brings me a glass of water and sits beside me, his arm draped protectively over my shoulders. Together, we turn the game on, the familiar sound of skates slicing across the ice filling the room.

For the first time all day, I feel a little bit of peace.

An hour passes, the first hockey game of the season providing a much-needed distraction.

Just as I start to feel like I can breathe again, my phone buzzes loudly on the coffee table. I grab it, seeing Nick’s name flashing on the screen.

“Nick? What’s going on?” I answer, my heart already racing.

His voice is frantic, words spilling out too fast. “Ally, Brooks got hurt in practice today. It was bad. They had to take him to the ER. Where are you?”

My stomach drops, and the room spins. “The ER? What happened? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know yet,” Nick says, his voice cracking. “But he asked for you. He’s been asking for you.”

I hang up without another word, jumping to my feet. Dad looks at me, alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Brooks,” I manage, grabbing my keys. “He’s hurt. I have to go to the hospital.”

Dad follows me to the door, his brow furrowed. “Brooks? Is he the guy you’ve been seeing?”

I hesitate, fumbling with my coat. “Yes…no…Dad, it’s really complicated.”

“How complicated could it be?” he asks, but I don’t have time to explain. I dash out the door, my heart pounding in my chest.

The drive to the hospital is a blur of flashing streetlights and frantic thoughts. What if he’s seriously injured? What if I don’t get there in time?

Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them away, focusing on the road. When I finally pull into the ER parking lot, I barely remember the drive. My tires screech as I park, and I leap out of the car, running toward the entrance.

The cold night air burns my lungs, but I don’t stop.

The automatic doors slide open with a hiss, and the sterile scent of the hospital hits me immediately, antiseptic, latex, and worry all rolled into one. The waiting room is a sea of anxious faces, and I hurry to the front desk.

“I’m here for Brooks Bailey,” I tell the receptionist, my voice trembling.

She types something into her computer before nodding. “Room 214. Take the elevators to the second floor and check in with the nurse’s station.”

I thank her and sprint toward the elevators, my heart pounding with every step. It feels like it takes forever for the elevator to arrive, and even longer for it to reach the second floor.

When I finally step out, I find myself face-to-face with Nick and Tyler, their expressions as worried as I feel.

“We won’t all fit in there,” Nick tells me, his voice taut. “We can hang out in the hall.”

“Okay,” I agree, stepping through the door of the room Brooks is in.

As I step into Brooks’ hospital room, the sterile, white walls feel cold and unwelcoming. The beeping of the machines is rhythmic, but it doesn’t soothe me.

Brooks is lying in the bed, his leg propped up with a brace on his knee, and his face looks drawn and pale. The sight of him like this tugs at my heart.

“Ally,” he says, his voice low but warm, his lips pulling into a weak smile. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

I hurry to his side, my chest tightening. “Of course, I came. Are you okay? What’s the prognosis?”

His smile falters, and he looks away. “Not great,” he admits quietly. “The doctors said there’s a tear in the meniscus and a break. Might need surgery. They’re not sure if I’ll get back to a hundred percent.”

I feel a pang of guilt as I reach for his hand, squeezing it gently. “Let me take a look tomorrow. We’ll figure something out. You’re not going through this alone.”

He looks back at me, his eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry, Ally.”

“For what?” I ask, taken aback.

“For making you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. We all miss you, you know. It’s not the same without you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes my chest ache. I squeeze his hand tighter and offer him a small smile. “I’m sorry, too. I’ve been…going through some stuff. But I’m here now.”

As we sit in the quiet room, the soft murmur of the machines filling the silence, my phone vibrates on the tray table.

I glance at the screen and freeze as I read Kenzie’s text.

Let me know if you need me there for support at your appointment next week!

My stomach flips as I hastily flip the phone over, but Brooks has already seen it. His brows knit together in confusion. “What appointment?” he asks, his voice steady but curious.

“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, avoiding his gaze as my heart starts to race. “Just…a check-up.”

Brooks isn’t buying it. His sharp eyes stay locked on mine, and I feel the weight of his concern. “Ally,” he says, his tone soft but firm. “What’s going on?”

I force a smile, trying to brush it off. “It’s really nothing. I’m fine.”

“Then why are you acting so weird?” he presses. “Come on, you can talk to me. What’s going on?”

My breath catches, and I look down at my hands, twisting them nervously in my lap. My mind scrambles for a way out, but there’s none. Brooks is watching me with such genuine concern that it breaks me.

“Ally,” he says again, his voice lower this time. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

Tears prick my eyes, and I can’t hold it in anymore. The truth tumbles out in a rush. “I’m pregnant,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

Brooks blinks, his face going still. “You’re…pregnant?”

I nod, tears streaming down my face as I bury my face in my hands. “I don’t know whose it is,” I choke out. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding you all. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

He’s silent for a long moment, and the stillness in the room feels suffocating. I peek up at him through my fingers, and his expression is unreadable.

“I was so scared,” I continue, my voice trembling. “I thought…I thought you’d all hate me. Or reject me. Or…I don’t know. I just feel so stupid for getting into this situation.”

Brooks finally moves, leaning forward slightly despite the brace on his leg. His hand finds mine, his touch strong and steady. “Ally,” he says, his voice calm. “You’re not stupid.”

“I feel stupid,” I whisper, my tears falling faster. “I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

He shakes his head slowly. “You haven’t ruined anything. You’re just…in a tough spot.”

His words are kind, but I can’t stop the wave of guilt washing over me. “I don’t know what to do,” I admit, my voice breaking.

Brooks stays quiet, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “We’ll figure it out,” he says simply. And for the first time in days, I feel a glimmer of hope. He squeezes my hand, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes my stomach twist. “What do you want to do, Ally?” he asks softly.

The question knocks the wind out of me. I try to answer, but the words catch in my throat. “I don’t…I don’t even know,” I stammer, my voice trembling. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

His brows knit together, the crease in his forehead deepening. “You don’t know?” he echoes, and though his tone isn’t judgmental, I can hear the surprise behind it.

Tears spill over again, hot and relentless. “I’ve barely had time to process this,” I admit, my voice cracking. “Everything feels…so overwhelming.”

Brooks leans back in the hospital bed, his hand still clutching mine. “Okay,” he says after a long pause, his tone even. “That’s fair. But you don’t have to do this alone, Ally. Whatever you decide, you’ve got support.”

His understanding is almost too much to bear, and it doesn’t calm the storm of anxiety churning inside me. I wipe at my tears, nodding weakly, though the knot in my chest only tightens.

“I…I should go,” I say, standing abruptly. The hospital room feels suffocating, the walls closing in with every second I stay.

Brooks’ hand falls away from mine, and he watches me rise, his expression unreadable. “Ally,” he starts, but I shake my head.

“I need time,” I murmur, barely able to meet his eyes. “I have to figure this out before I can talk about it more.”

He nods slowly, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Okay. But…can I tell the twins?”

I hesitate, my hands fidgeting at my sides. Part of me wants to say no, to keep this to myself a little longer, but the logical part of me knows that’s impossible. “Yeah,” I say finally. “You can tell them.”

The air between us feels heavy, filled with everything unsaid. Brooks looks like he wants to reach out, to stop me, but he doesn’t. “Take care of yourself, Ally,” he says quietly.

“Bye, Brooks,” I whisper, turning on my heel before the lump in my throat grows unbearable. I walk out the door, my steps heavy, each one pulling me farther from the men who I know care for me, even if everything now feels impossibly tangled.

“Ally?” Tyler asks as I hurry by them.

“What…where are you going?” Nick shouts after me.

I just walk faster. I can’t face them right now.

The drive home is a blur. I don’t even bother turning on the radio. The silence is deafening, but somehow, it’s better than the noise of music clashing with my internal chaos.

I replay everything that just happened with Brooks, dissecting his words, his expressions, his tone. His shock was clear, but he wasn’t angry. Did that mean he was okay with this? With me?

I can’t stop picking apart his response, wondering if he was just being kind or if he truly meant what he said. “You’ve got support.” Those words echo in my head, both a comfort and a burden.

The road ahead seems endless, each stoplight stretching into forever. My mind won’t stop swirling with questions. What am I doing? How can I possibly be a mom? How will I explain all of this to my father, the guys, anyone?

The panic swells again, a tidal wave threatening to pull me under. I blink rapidly, forcing the tears back, and take a deep breath. One thing at a time, Ally .

When I pull into the driveway, I notice the house is dark. My dad is in bed. I can sneak inside without facing his questions or concerns.

I slip up to my old bedroom. The walls are still plastered with posters from my teenage years: bands I don’t listen to anymore, movie stars I used to swoon over. My old cheerleading trophy glints on a dusty shelf, a relic of a simpler time.

I sit on the edge of my bed, the worn comforter soft under my fingers. Everything about this room feels so juvenile, so far removed from the chaotic reality of my life now.

Lying back, I stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars still stuck to the ceiling. My hand drifts to my stomach, resting on it lightly.

I close my eyes, trying to picture myself as a mother, but the image won’t come. All I see is uncertainty, a vast expanse of the unknown stretching out before me.

Tears sting my eyes again as I whisper to the empty room, “What am I going to do?” The silence offers no answers.

Rolling onto my side, I let my fear, worry and sadness pour out into my pillow.

A part of me wants to get right back in the car and go back to the hospital, back to Brooks and the twins, but I can’t let myself give in to that desire right now.

Right now, I need to take some time and figure out what I want, what I need.

Who would have thought that the hyper-independent medical school success would wind up needing love and support from not just one, but three men?

Love .

The word echoes in my mind.

Do I love the twins and Brooks? I don’t actually know what I feel about anything right now.

Feeling worn out by emotion, I roll onto my back and pull the blankets up to my chin.

“Okay, little bean,” I say to the small life growing inside of me. “We have some big decisions to make, but not right now. Right now, we need to get some sleep so that we can start facing all of our fears in the morning.”

Feeling slightly better, I close my eyes and let the heavy hand of exhaustion pull me under.