Page 114 of Baby Surprise for my Brother's Best Friend

“I don’t know what to say! I’m not…this wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Her laugh cuts through the air, brittle and furious.

“Oh, I’m well aware. You’re the king of ‘not supposed to happen.’”

The words hit harder than they should. Maybe because they’re true. Maybe because for the first time in my life, something mattered. And I still managed to fuck it up.

The spiral starts fast, dragging me under before I can stop it.

Memories crash into me. The way my father’s love was a leash, a weapon, a debt I could never repay. The way my mother faded right in front of me, smiling through gritted teeth until there was nothing left.

“I don’t want to ruin your life.” The words scrape out of me before I can catch them.

Sophie flinches like I slapped her.

“What?”

“I’m not the guy who does forever. I’m not built for this. You know that.” I wish I was. I want so bad to be that guy, With her.

But I can see she doesn’t want me. Not with all my baggage.

She squares her jaw, her voice a low, furious tremor. “You don’t get to decide that for me. But if you’re not ready, say it. Don’t pretend you’re doing this for me.”

I back away a step, shaking my head, the panic clawing harder now.

“I need time. I just… I need to think.”

Sophie crosses her arms tighter over her chest, her chin lifting in that stubborn way that guts me every damn time.

“Maybe it’s better if you go think somewhere else.”

The air between us vibrates with everything we’re not saying. Everything we can’t take back.

I grab the hoodie slung over the back of a chair, yanking it on without looking at her.

I make it halfway to the door before something roots me to the spot.

I turn, hand on the doorknob, voice rough with everything I’m too much of a coward to fix.

“I didn’t lie to you. I do love you.” It’s almost like I’m confessing it to myself.

Sophie doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word.

I swallow hard.

“But I don’t know if I’m enough.”

And then I’m gone, the door closing behind me with a final, hollow click.

The night air slams into me like a fist.

I walk. Fast. Hard. Like if I just keep moving, I can outrun the mess behind me.

Spoiler, I can’t.

My sneakers scuff against the cracked sidewalk, each jolt rattling up my legs into my chest.

I shove my hands deep into my hoodie, fists clenched, head down.

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