Page 37 of Triplet Babies for the CEO

“Look, Tasha,” she says, her words cutting through my turmoil. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be okay. I mean it.”

Compassion. I turn to her, startled, and for the first time, I see something in her eyes that I hadn’t expected. She doesn’t look at me with judgment or disappointment, only concern, and something in me eases just a little.

I’m caught off guard by her support. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” she says firmly. It’s a relief to know she’s not looking at me like some kind of gold digger, just someone in over her head and trying to keep it together. “But…let’s keep this between us for now, okay? Until you’re ready and know what you want to do.”

I nod, feeling a bit of the tension ease from my shoulders.

The leaves outside flash by, each a blur of orange and crimson, but they barely register as I lose myself in anxious thoughts.

The trip back to Brody’s ranch is long and silent, Gemma focused on the road while my mind spirals with what-ifs.

What will I do if the test is positive?

How do I even tell Brody something like this?

A nauseous feeling lingers in the pit of my stomach, far worse now than when I first woke up.

I press my hand against my stomach, as though that will somehow calm the sick, twisting feeling gnawing at me.

The reality is settling in hard and fast.

Everything I’ve worked for, all my dreams, everything I thought I knew about my future…everything could change entirely because of the results on a stupid plastic stick—because of a stupid mistake.

Stepping inside Brody’s house feels surreal, the familiar warmth of the space almost mocking the storm brewing inside me. I slip my shoes off and take light, careful steps across the polished wooden floor, not wanting to alert Dana or Brody if he’s come back home.

My heart thuds in my chest, a drumbeat of panic. I know if either of them sees me now, they’ll ask questions, and I don’t have any answers yet.

I finally make it to my bedroom, closing the door gently behind me before letting out a shaky breath. The weight of it all crashes over me, and I let myself sink onto the bed, burying my face in my hands as a few sobs escape. But I can’t fall apart now. I need to know.

I get up, grabbing the bag with the tests, and make my way to the bathroom. Everything feels surreal as I unwrap the first test, my fingers fumbling with the plastic.

I follow the instructions, feeling awkward and vulnerable as I do, wondering how it’s come to this moment of suspense with my entire life on the line.

Setting the first test down, I stare at it with wide, unblinking eyes, watching as the seconds stretch into an eternity.

Then, like a punch to the gut, the result appears: pregnant.

A heavy weight drops in my chest, but I take another test, needing confirmation.

It’s positive as well.

Each time I try again, the answer doesn’t change, as all five tests line up with the same finality: I’m actually pregnant.

I get myself together, pulling my hoodie back on before cracking open the door. Gemma startles me, standing right there at the threshold, her expression soft and searching. She steps inside, closing the door quietly behind her without a word.

“I swore I’d never end up like this. I’m making the same mistakes my mom made, Gemma. I’ll be a failure…just like her.”

The moment we’re alone, the floodgates open, and I’m sobbing, barely able to get the words out.

Gemma moves closer, her hand rubbing gentle circles on my back as I choke on the memories of my mom.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whisper. “My mom never…she never cared. I was just there, you know? Another thing she had to take care of when she felt like it.”

The weight of it all presses down on me: the years of neglect, the missed birthdays, the feeling that I was just genuinely unwanted.

“What if I can’t be a good mom?” I ask, my voice barely audible. “What if I don’t know how to be there for a kid? No one was ever there for me.”

---