Page 24

24

Elias

I t was a brutal practice.My head wasn’t in it, my body felt sluggish, and every shot I took was off. Not surprising, really—not when my mind was somewhere else entirely. After a quick shower, I step into the locker room, where the guys are still joking around, their laughter bouncing off the walls. I barely register it. What I do register is the way Kalen is looking at me—curious, maybe even suspicious. And why wouldn’t he be? I’ve been avoiding him all day.

“Elias,” he says just as I slam my locker shut, trying to shake the tension coiling in my chest. Before I can answer, Roman walks in. My gaze flicks to him instinctively, my pulse stuttering.Does he know? Has Rip told him yet? Would he even care? He had his hands full chasing after some bride all night, so I doubt he had time to sit down for a chat about my… situation.

Roman walks past, head down, lost in thought, and my shoulders loosen slightly. No confrontation. Not yet.

I turn back to Kalen, my best friend. My former roommate. The guy who gave me a place to crash when I needed it most. And how did I repay him? By sleeping with his sister. And then—oh yeah—marrying her.

He’s going to think this is hilarious, right?

Then why the hell are you too chicken-shit to tell him?

“Sahara texted,” Kalen says, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts. “She and Taylor are hanging out at the house. Stop by for a coffee. You and Taylor can tell us all about Vegas.”

Vegas. Right.

I grab my phone, checking for a message from Taylor, but there’s nothing. Odd. She usually lets me know what she’s up to. Then again, she doesn’t have to. It’s not like we’re married.

Oh. Right. Weare.

I look back up to find Kalen watching me. I should definitely agree to coffee. Kalen would find it weird if I didn’t, and besides, this is the perfect opportunity to tell him about the… mix-up. About how I plan to fix it.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I say, forcing a casual nod. “I’ll meet you there.”

The guys trickle out one by one, but I stay behind, needing a moment alone.How the hell do I play this?Joking might be my best bet. Make light of it, act like it’s no big deal. But what if Kalen isn’t laughing? What if he’s pissed that his sister will be married and divorced before she even graduates college?

Then again… maybe he wouldn’t be upset.

Maybe he’d actually like the idea of us together.

After all, Kalen trusts me. He’s trusted me with Taylor more times than I can count. He has to know I’d never do anything to hurt her. And yeah, she’s young. She still has school, still has her whole life ahead of her.

But I could be there for her. Support her . Love her.

A dangerous thought lodges itself in my chest, expanding like a bubble of hope.What if we don’t have to fix this? What if Kalen gives us his blessing, and this thing between Taylor and me… becomes real?

Jumping the gun much, dude?

Right . Where does Taylor stand in all of this? What is her choice?

She looked completelymortified when we found out the marriage was real, sure. But honestly, the way we are together? The way we feel? It’s never been like this for me before. Not with anyone. And I have a feeling it’s never been like this for her, either.

That thought chills me. Because she’s young. Because she still has so much of life to experience.Because I don’t want to be the reason she misses out on any of it. But maybe—just maybe—she doesn’t want to experience itwithout me.

I pull into Kalen’s driveway, my grip tightening around the steering wheel when I see both his car and Taylor’s already there . No turning back now. My stomach knots as I step out and make my way up the walkway. The house still feels familiar—because it was mine, too, for a while. Knocking would be weird. So I don’t.

“Hey,” I say as I step inside.

Sunlight spills across the living room floor, casting a warm glow over Taylor and Sahara, who are curled up on the couch. The moment I lay eyes on Taylor, I search for something—a sign, a hint, anything — but she’s avoiding my gaze, fidgeting with the coffee cup in her hands like it holds all the answers in the universe.

From the kitchen, the sound of movement catches my attention. A second later, Kalen emerges with two mugs, handing one to me.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“Come on. Let’s sit.”

I glance at Taylor again,trying to read her, trying to figure out how she wants to handle this. But she won’t look at me. Her fingers tremble slightly around the cup, her face pale, her hair pulled back like she didn’t have the energy to deal with it today.Something is off, something that has nothing to do with our marriage.

My stomach tightens.Is she sick again?

Kalen settles into his chair, but I stay standing, my focus locked on Taylor. “Hey… are you okay?” I ask, stepping closer.

“I…” She flicks a glance at Sahara, her chin quivering.

And just like that, my heartstops. I was right. This isn’t just about the marriage. She looks physicallyill.

I set my coffee down and drop to my knees in front of her, taking her hand without hesitation. I don’t care that Kalen is right there, watching everything.

“Talk to me,” I urge, voice low. “What’s going on? Are you hurt? Sick?”

Before she can answer, the creak of Kalen’s chair breaks the silence.

“What’s this?” he asks.

I turn and—fuck.

Grandma’s diamondcatches the lightas Kalen picks it up from the coffee table.

I whip back to Taylor, throat tightening. “You got it off.” My eyes drop to her bare hand. Thesight of it, the absence of that stupid little band, hits harder than a puck to the face and I recoil. “How? Why?” I murmur, and shake my head.

Why the hell am I asking why? I know the why.

She doesn’t want to be married to me. Sure we’re great together in bed. But she has her whole life ahead of her, and I can’t be a selfish prick and ask for more, only for her to resent me down the road.

Before she can explain, before she can say anything that might shatter whatever hope I was stupid enough to entertain earlier, I nod, forcing a tight, empty smile. “Good.” My voice is rough. “That’s good.”

Her eyes widen, confusion flickering across her face as Iput a measure of distance between us, her free ring finger the wake-up call I needed.

“What’s good? What are you talking about, Elias?” Kalen’s gaze flicks from the ring to me, then to Taylor, his brows pulling together. “Taylor?”

Silence. Thick, suffocating. Taylor stays curled up on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her, and I feel the weight of it pressing down on my chest. I force out a laugh, aiming for casual, but it comes out hollow. “It was just a misunderstanding,” I say, waving a hand like this whole thing is nothing more than some ridiculous mix-up.

Kalen frowns, turning the ring over in his fingers.Then it happens. Recognition. The moment realization dawns in his eyes, his whole face changes, shifts. His brows lift, his mouth parts slightly as concern morphs into worry.

“What the fuck happened in Vegas?” he demands.

I quickly blurt out everything. Well, not everything, but enough for him to piece together a story that makes this seem less of a disaster. “Grandma,” I finally joke, forcing a laugh as I glance at Taylor. “Am I right or am I right?”

Nothing.

Not a smile. Not even a flicker of amusement.

She won’t look at me. Won’tlook at anyone.

What the hell is going on with her?

The unease in my gut tightens. I reach over, plucking the ring from Kalen’s tight fingers, and shove it deep into my pocket. Out of sight, out of mind. If only it could be that easy.

“Don’t worry,” I say quickly. “Grandma’s getting this back, and I’m going to fix it.”

A small sound, barely more than a squeak, comes from Taylor. I turn to her just in time to see her facedrain of color. If I thought she was pale before…

“Jesus, Elias.” Kalen’s voice cuts through the chaos in my brain. “How the hell did you let this happen?”

I slice my hands through the air, dismissing it. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, buddy. I’m going to fix this.”

Taylor makes another sound, a choked noise that has my stomach twisting into a tight, uneasy knot. I look at her again. Really look at her. She isn’t just pale. She isn’t just quiet. She’s a wreck. Like something is breaking apart inside of her. Her eyes flick to Sahara, andthat’s when I know. Whatever this is—it’s bigger than Vegas. Bigger than the marriage.

“Taylor?” I say, my voice lower now as I try to stay calm—her anchor—as she weathers a storm.

Sahara stands. “You two need to talk. In private.” She reaches for Kalen’s hand, trying to pull him with her.

Kalen resists, his eyes narrowing. “Why?” His voice hardens. “What else is going on here?” His accusatory glarelocks on me,but Ican’tmeet his eyes.

“Just come with me,” Sahara urges, pulling harder.

“I’m pregnant,” Taylor blurts out. The wordsdrop like a bomb. Everythingstops. A cold, eerie stillness falls over the room, like all the air has been sucked out, leaving behindonly the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. I turn to her, and the second I see the tears, I drop to my knees. But I must have heard her wrong. She just said she wassick.Right?Not pregnant.

But I already know I’m wrong.

My chest locks up, lungs refusing to work. I try to breathe, but the room feels too damn small,too damn tight.

“Taylor,” Sahara says softly, her voice gentle, coaxing.

Tears keep falling down Taylor’s cheeks. “No more secrets,” she whispers. “No more lies. I can’t—” Her voice breaks, her whole body trembling. “Secrets are how we got here. I just… I can’t do it anymore.”

She buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking as Kalen steps in front of me. “What the fuck, Elias?” Kalen asks. “Is this some sort of mix up, like the marriage?” I get it. He’s desperate for an alternative explanation. Just like I was. He shakes his head like he’s physically trying to reject what he just heard. “This isn’t happening.” But even as the words leave his mouth, I can see the reality slamming into him. His shoulders go rigid, his expression hardening. “You got my sister pregnant.”

Taylor’s voice cuts through the air. “Kalen,” she snaps, her tone so sharp we both turn to her. “It takes two to get pregnant.”

She’s defending me.

As my insides soften, so do Kalen’s. “Taylor. Jesus. You’re just a kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” she shouts back, but suddenly his anger is back and he swings to face me. His fists are clenched at his sides. “You’re the one who should have known better. I fucking trusted you.” His hands slam into my chest with a sharp jab. “You were my best friend.” His voice is laced with disgust. “Why the fuck did you quit the bunnies, Elias? They throw themselves at you. Maybe if you’d scratched your itch with one of them, you wouldn’t have knocked up my sister.”

I wince at the crude words, but I don’t fight back. I just take it because I deserve it. But there’s one thing I need to make clear. “Kalen,” I begin, trying to quiet the chaos in my mind as I struggle to work this out—to figure out what’s next. What does Taylor want? “I quit bunnies because…I just…” I gulp, my throat too tight to get the words out as my best friend glares at me like I’m the worst human on the face of the planet. “Taylor.”

“I think you need to leave so we can figure this out,” Kalen hisses.

I blink. What? “I’m a part of this, Kalen,” I argue.

He lets loose a humorless laugh. “You did your part.”

“Kalen,” Sahara says, gently touching his arm as Taylor sobs.

“Taylor?” I ask. “What do you want?” I grip the ring in my pocket, wanting her to ask for it back, to tell me she wants all this.

For the briefest of seconds, I see something familiar on her face, something that looks like hope. Love. I move closer, my heart pounding in my ears. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. I’ll do right by you.” Ask her to marry you, dude. Tell her you love her and want to make this real. But she’s young. She has her whole life ahead of her. This can’t be what she wants, and if I push, if I force this, she’ll regret it. Just do, bro . “But that’s…. I don’t want…” Those words slip out from under my breath. Shit. Now I’m talking to myself. Out loud. But I can’t force Taylor. Can’t ask her to give up everything for me.

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, Elias,” she finally says, her back straight, but there’s hurt in her eyes, and it cuts me like a serrated blade. “You should leave.”

I’m about to protest when Kalen gets up in my face again. “Taylor, if you want me to leave I will. But we’re not done.” I storm out the door, and as my eyes water, I blindly head back to my car. My heart thumps against my chest as I drive the short distance home, but the second I step inside, I nearly fucking sob. Everywhere I look, the throw pillows on the sofa, the candles on the table, the soft blanket draped over the chair, I see the woman I love. She decorated this whole place for me.

I walk to my bedroom and throw myself on the bed, my brain spinning as I place my forearm over my eyes.

I’m going to be a father.

A family of my own, the house, the white picket fence, it’s all I ever wanted. But there’s a big part of the equation missing. My phone rings and my heart jumps. I quickly fish it from my pocket and when I see that it’s Grandma, I groan. I am not in the mood to talk to anyone. I toss my phone aside, but it rings again and again. Apparently she’s not giving up. I finally cave and answer.

“Hey Grandma, what’s up?” I try to inject enthusiasm into my voice but fail miserably.

A beat of silence and then, “Just checking to see how my grandson and granddaughter-in-law are doing.”

I’m about to tell her we’re fine, working on getting things ‘fixed’ but I can’t bring myself to do it and that’s probably because I need someone to talk to.

“Taylor is pregnant,” I blurt out.

Another beat of silence, and then, “I know, Elias.”

I sit up, my body tight. “How did you know?” Jeez, was I the last to find out? Did she tell my parents too? Maybe even the entire wedding party?

No, she’s not like that and I know it.

“When you get to be my age, you know things,” she says quietly. She usually snorts those words out with a laugh, but she’s not laughing now. “Are you not happy?”

“Grandma,” I finally blurt out. “None of it was real.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, a weight I didn’t even realize I was carrying lifts off my chest. God, all the lies, the bullshit, the act I’ve been playing. It’s actually been eating at me. Could that be why Taylor blurted out she was pregnant? It all became too much for her as well.

“We were faking a relationship,” I continue. “So Mom and Dad would stop trying to set me up.”

“I know.”

Of course she knows. Grandma always knows.

“Are you not happy about the baby?”

I let out a shaky breath. Jesus, the baby. I haven’t really had a chance to process it. But the truth is, I want this baby. I want to raise it with Taylor and build a life together.

“Yeah, I’m happy, but she’s not.”

Grandma’s voice is quiet when she asks, “She’s not happy about the baby?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. Everything just imploded, and she and her brother kicked me out, and don’t want to talk to me.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Yeah.” I flop back down on the bed and let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s a mess, Grandma.”

“Nothing is a mess as long as you have love, Elias.”

“Love?” I pinch my eyes shut. “There’s no love, Grandma. Taylor never wanted to marry me, and not wanting to have my baby pretty much goes without saying.”

“I see.” Her voice is steady but there’s a sadness in it that makes my heart ache. I never wanted to hurt Grandma. But I have. I’ve hurt everyone.

“Why does that sound like you have more to say?” I ask quietly.

“Because I do. The real question is, are you ready to listen?”

The seriousness in her tone cuts through the chaos, and I suddenly realize I’m not just talking to my grandmother. I’m talking to someone who’s lived through love, loss and all the complicated messes in between. “Yes,” I mutter, my voice and the chaos quieter now.

“You know what was real?” she asks, her voice almost a whisper.

I swallow hard. “What.”

“Your love for Taylor and her love for you.”

“She doesn’t love me, Grandma. She just kicked me out of her house.”

“She loves you, Elias,” she says, her voice unwavering. “Trust me. But she’s scared.”

“Scared?”

“You asked her to pretend to live a lie for your family. You sold us some story about her wanting to be a big Hollywood actress.”

I cringe. “That’s not what she wants.”

“I know. But the point is, she couldn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t, because she loved you. Yet you kept up with the charade.”

“I just…thought Mom and Dad would be impressed by her Hollywood aspirations, that she would fit the image they wanted for the family,” I mumble, and shake my head at my own stupidity.

“No, son. We were all impressed because she was real and honest and open…and because she loves you. If she believed you loved her too, maybe you would have stopped pretending. Maybe you would have put an end to the act.”

I should have stopped pretending.

“But now,” Grandma’s voice softens, “Maybe she doesn’t think she’s enough for you or your family.”

The weight of her words crush me. God, I’m so fucking stupid. “She’s enough. She’s everything, Grandma.”

“Then what are you going to do to show her that?”