Page 21

Chapter twenty

Hudson

I follow her back to her dorm, walking behind her, keeping my eyes glued to the floor, because every time I look at her, I want to hug her. Especially when she cries, which she’s done twice tonight in the space of a few minutes. And I get the impression that she doesn’t want a hug from me. So, I keep my distance for now.

When we reach her dorm, she swipes her keycard and walks up the stairs to room 204. I make a mental note of it. I’m not being caught out with not knowing where she is again. Not now, since… God, I can’t even think it yet. I need to hear her say it again.

Once we’re inside, I notice how quiet it is, that there’s no roommate clutter, no extra bed crammed into the space. Just her things neatly arranged, everything has a place, not a sock on the floor or a mug on the desk. She must’ve lucked out, since not many students get single rooms. The space is full of pink accents, a few framed pictures on the wall, and a folded blanket at the end of her bed. Minimalist, but warm. Just…pretty, like she is.

I feel completely out of place. Big, awkward, and too aware of the heaviness in my chest. Too aware of things we need to talk about but haven’t yet.

Daphne moves to the edge of her bed, pulling the sleeves of her pink oversized sweater down to cover her hands. She doesn’t look at me, so I position myself on the chair at her desk, and wonder if she regrets letting me in. Maybe I should’ve stayed outside. Maybe I should’ve let her deal with this how she wanted instead of begging her to talk to me. No, that’s crap, I need to be here. We need to talk. I just wish I knew what I needed to say first. I probably shouldn’t start with: “Sorry for ignoring you, after I found out who you were, but now I’m here to help you raise a kid”? God, that sounds terrible. She doesn’t deserve terrible. She deserves so much more. And I’m fucking clueless. I remember the way she’d looked at me that night, like I was more. And now I’ve screwed it all up. I let her deal with this alone, and I hate myself a little bit for it.

“So…” she laughs, but it’s brittle, not the same laugh I heard the night we met. But she doesn’t say anything else, and neither do I. Any and all ability to talk has suddenly disappeared, like my brain just clocked out for the day. Great timing, Hudson. You’ve been speaking in full sentences for most of your life, but now? Now, you forget how words work? Amazing, love your work.

I know I can’t dodge this. I don’t want to dodge it. I need to speak, I need her to speak, to hear her say it out loud. “Daphne,” I say, my voice steadier than I feel. “I need you to say it. Please.”

She looks down at her covered hands. Then she exhales, her shoulders slumping as the fight drains out of her. “I’m pregnant,” she says, the words barely audible. “And it’s yours.”

The world tilts again, the reality of it crashing over me for the second time tonight. It’s like my brain is buffering, my ears ringing. I sit back, the chair creaking under my weight. My hands fall to my sides, and for a moment, I’m pretty sure I forget how to function. My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. She’s still looking at me, waiting for me to say something, but my brain’s stuck on a loop, playing her words over and over. I’m pregnant. It’s yours. I’m pregnant. It’s yours.

I take a slow breath, my lungs burning with the stuttered inhale. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she says, tilting her head.

I stand, needing to move my body. “I mean, not okay, okay , but yeah, okay, but not...” Shit, am I rambling? I’m not sure how to stop. It’s not every day the girl of your dreams tells you she’s pregnant with your baby. “Are you…sure?” My voice cracks like I’ve been screaming all day.

Her hands grip her sweater tightly as she nods. “I took two tests. And I’m going to the doctor tomorrow to confirm it, but…yeah. I’m sure.”

I run a hand down my face, dragging it over my mouth like I can physically force myself to process this. My chest feels like it’s caving in. Pregnant. Mine. Pregnant. Mine. The words don’t make sense. How the hell did this happen? We were careful. I thought we were careful.

“Say something,” she whispers.

I look up at her, and the sight of her sitting there, small and scared and braver than I could ever be, hits me like another punch to the gut. She’s been carrying this alone, and I’ve been…what? Sitting in scrapbook club, pretending my life is normal?

“I…” My throat closes up again, and I shake my head. “Shit, Daph. I don’t even know what to say.”

Her face crumples, and she looks away, blinking hard. “It’s fine,” she says, but the crack in her voice gives her away. “I didn’t expect anything from you. I just thought you deserved to know.”

I nod, but I feel that cold sweat take over, spreading down my spine.

Her brow knits as she studies me closely. “Are you gonna pass out?”

“Probably,” I admit, grabbing her desk chair and spinning it around so I can collapse into something solid. The room spins a little as I lower my head into my hands, trying to breathe through the panic pressing into my chest. She’s pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. “We used protection,” I mutter to myself.

“We did, but looks like I’m super fertile and your sperm hates being told what to do.”

I snort a laugh, but it quickly morphs into a groan, because how the fuck is this happening.

Then I feel a warmth bringing me back to the present.

She’s close, her perfume washing over me, soothing me. It’s like a balm, and the tension that’s been winding through me begins to loosen. I glance up, and she’s kneeling there, her hands resting on my thighs, concern etched into her eyebrows.

“I know this is a lot. I’ve been where you are already.” She exhales an empty laugh that could also be a sob. “I still am, honestly. But I need you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. I’m keeping the baby, but you don’t owe me anything.”

The idea of her struggling, like my mom did, carrying too much weight all by herself, twists something inside me, deep and unrelenting. I don’t want that for her. I hate the thought of her going through this alone, shouldering everything when I’m right here.

I sit up straighter, my hands dropping to cover hers.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I say firmly as I pull her hands closer to me. “You’re not doing this alone, Daphne. Not if I can help it.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Hudson…” she starts but falters, and her eyes glass over again. “You don’t have to say that.”

“I do have to say it,” I reply, leaning in, holding her gaze. “I’m saying it because I want to. Because you deserve more than carrying this by yourself. Both of you do. And I’m not letting you do this alone.” Even if her dad is going to kill me, but she doesn’t need to hear that right now.

Her lips part, but no words come out. She looks down at our hands, her lashes casting shadows on her cheeks as a tear falls. God, she’s so beautiful. I hate seeing her cry, but she’s still just as beautiful when she does.

“You mean that?” She sniffs, pulling her hand away to wipe her cheek.

My grip on her other hand tightens as I nod. “I mean it, Daphne. I’m here for you, for everything. I’ll be your friend, cheerleader, snack bitch, and shoulder to cry on. Whatever you need.” Because the truth is, it’s the least I can do. The most is to be there for the baby and her in a way my dad never was. It doesn’t matter if I have no idea what I’m doing. It also doesn’t matter if I’m scared shitless, which I am 100%. I’ll do better, I’ll learn. I have to. For them.

Her shoulders drop, the tension she’s been holding on to easing slightly. She exhales a shaky breath, one that feels like it’s been trapped in her chest for days, maybe weeks. “I didn’t think… I mean, I wasn’t sure you’d—” she cuts herself off, shaking her head. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I tell her softly. “I should’ve been here sooner.” I would’ve been here sooner if I’d gotten my head out of my ass and approached Daphne all those weeks ago.

She glances up at me, and I see something shift in her expression, something lighter, less guarded than she’s been all night so far. It’s fragile, like she’s testing the idea of trusting me, and I get it, we’re strangers. We might’ve spent an amazing night together, but we need to know each other better to feel more comfortable.

“I’m scared,” she admits, her voice trembling. It tugs at my heart.

“Me too,” I reply without hesitation.

This is not something I thought I’d have to deal with. Have I ever thought about settling down or having kids? No, I’ve always been the guy who lives in the moment. The only thing I was worried about this year was my friends graduating, or winning football games, scrapbook club, and now all of that seems really fucking small by comparison.

Daphne yawns, and I take that as my cue to leave. Even though I don’t think I want to, I force myself to stand. “I’ll, uh, leave you to sleep.”

“Okay,” she says, and I turn toward the door, when she says, “Hudson?”

“Yeah?” I face her, ready to do whatever she asks of me.

She hesitates, and I watch those full lips part and close, over and over, before she smiles a weak smile and says, “Goodnight.”

There’re a million things I want to say to her, and honestly, my head’s still such a mess. I really just want to find my best friend right now. “Night, Daphne.”

The cold bites through my sweatshirt as I stop near the quad, my chest tight and nerves on edge. I let out a shaky breath, watching it fog in the air. This is real. A kid. A tiny, helpless person who’s going to need me for everything. Someone I’m supposed to protect and take care of.

The thought slams into me like a freight train: I have no idea how to do that. What the hell do I know about being a dad?

Mom’s voice rings in my head: “You don’t have to have all the answers, Hudson, but you better be ready to step up when it counts.” She always said that when I got cocky or lazy as a kid with football or school. She wasn’t wrong then, and she’s not wrong now.

I think about her raising me and Rory on her own after Dad walked out. She made sacrifices I didn’t fully understand until I got older, but I know it wasn’t easy. My inspiration comes from her, not him. Her strength and love when raising me and my sister.

Fuck, raising a kid. That’s going to be me.

I drag a hand through my hair, letting out a rough sigh as my gaze shifts toward the stadium in the distance. The bright lights are still glowing from tonight’s game, and I can almost hear the faint cheers from earlier. That’s supposed to be my future, the NFL, a contract, the dream I’ve chased my entire life. But now? Now I can’t even see past the next week, let alone a football career.

What if I can’t make this work? What if I can’t balance football, school, and being a dad? Worse…what if I don’t make it to the NFL at all? The idea of peaking in college and being some washed-up nobody terrifies me. That’s not what I want for Daphne, and it’s sure as hell not what I want for my kid.

My stomach twists as I keep walking, my legs heavy but my mind racing. I’ve always known football wasn’t forever. Even if I made it pro, the clock on that career runs out fast. I’ve thought about what might come after—maybe coaching, maybe broadcasting—but that always felt like a “someday” problem. Something future Hudson could deal with.

But now? Someday feels a hell of a lot closer.

Daphne’s face flashes in my mind, how her voice cracked when she told me, how her hands gripped her sweater so tightly I thought she might tear it. She was terrified. Just like me. But she wasn’t running, and she wasn’t backing down. She’s staying. She’s doing this.

And so am I.

Before I realize it, I’m outside Jay’s building. I’ve left my dorm key in my gym bag, which—damn it—is still in Daphne’s room. Shit. Pulling out my phone, I send Jay a quick text, silently praying he’s home and hasn’t gone out with the team.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzes, and I answer with a swipe.

“I was too lazy to text back. Where’s your key?”

“Long story. You home, though? Can you let me in?”

There’s a rustle on his end before he answers. “Be there in two minutes.”

By the time Jay appears, it feels like I’ve been standing there for hours. As soon as I see him, all the air leaves my lungs. I lean forward, gripping the doorframe to steady myself.

“Whoa, whoa,” he says, reaching out to steady me despite being shorter. “What happened? Did someone spike your drink at a party? The guys said you weren’t out, but did you do something stupid?”

Shaking my head, my grip falters as Jay guides me inside the building. “It’s not that,” I manage, my voice shaky. “It’s... God, I don’t even know how to say this.”

Jay practically props me up as we make our way to his room. “Okay, let’s sit before you keel over,” he says, swiping his card against the door. The beep feels muffled, like it’s coming from miles away.

Once we’re inside, I drop onto the edge of his bed, my head falling into my hands. My throat feels like it’s closing up, and the pressure behind my eyes builds.

Jay crouches in front of me, his hands braced on his knees, his voice softer now. “Hudson, talk to me.”

I glance up at him as my vision blurs. “Daphne,” I choke out. “She’s pregnant.”

Jay’s eyes widen, and his jaw drops slightly. I can practically see the words forming and disappearing in his head. “Fuck,” he says, sitting back on his heels.

I nod, my hands digging into my thighs as I stare at the floor. “Yeah. And it’s mine. She told me tonight.”

Jay blows out a long breath, then starts pacing the room. “Fuck.”

Leaning back against the wall, I let out a dry laugh. He doesn’t swear often, so twice in as many minutes, things must be bad. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Jay. She’s scared, I’m scared... I told her I’d be there, but—” My voice cracks, and I stop, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. “What if I just screw it all up? It’s not like I’ve had the best role model.”

Jay knows the story. “Hudson,” he says, his voice firm but kind. “Look, this is a lot, right, I get that. Jesus.” Eyes on mine, he sighs. “But you know why I give you shit, right? Because I’ve seen you screw up before. But this? I don’t want you to look back and regret not stepping up for something this big. You can do this. You’re a better man than you think. You’re a better man than him.”

I let out a shaky breath, trying to take in his words. Am I a better man? I want to be. I think I can be for her. Jay has always been there, through every dumb decision, every failed plan, every hookup gone wrong. But this isn’t just another one of my messes. I can tell he knows that too, even if he doesn’t say it.

The silent belief in me was what I didn’t know I needed.

“Thanks, Jay.”

He smirks faintly. “Anytime. But, uh, you might want to start thinking about how to tell your mom.”

My stomach drops. “Oh, God.”

With a laugh, he pats my shoulder. “And after that, Coach.”

“Fuuuuck.”