Page 125 of Sin Bin Daddies
Madeline gives a half-shrug, her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Yeah. That’s… that’s what the doctor confirmed.”
Her face softens just a little, but I can still see the worry in her eyes. I stand up, my hand resting on her shoulder, grounding her, grounding myself.
Leo glances at Asher and then at me. He opens his mouth to say something, but stops.
“This is huge,” he mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He’s pacing now, his mind clearly spinning with everything this could mean, everything this changes.
“I know,” I say, my voice steady, my gaze never leaving Madeline. I’m here. We’re here. We’re doing this. “But it’s ours. We’ll figure it out.”
Leo takes a step back, the lines around his eyes softening, like the gravity of the situation is pressing against him.
The guy who’s used to being in control, who thrives on having every damn thing figured out, is now facing something he can’t manage with a playbook or a strategy.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. “Alright. I got it. But how the hell do we keep this from the team?”
“We will,” I say, leaning forward. “We have to. Maybe after the season is done, we can inform the rest of the team.”
For a moment, no one speaks. Then Asher turns to Madeline, his face softening. “We also need to talk about your living situation. You can’t stay at Henry’s forever. We need more space.”
She immediately shakes her head, her face tight with resistance. “I’m not going anywhere. That’s my home.”
I can see the resolve in her eyes, the stubborn streak I’ve come to know all too well. She’s not going to back down on this, and I respect it, but I also know what’s coming.
She’s carrying triplets, and no matter how strong she is, she’s going to need help, space, and the security of knowing we’re all in this with her.
Asher holds his ground. “I can start looking for bigger places. Something closer to everything. We’ll figure it out, but you don’t have to do this on your own. We need to make sure you have what you need, Madeline.”
“I said I’m not leaving.” Her voice is firm, and I know she means it.
Leo’s been quiet, but now he steps forward, his eyes narrowing as he looks at Madeline. “It’s not about leaving. It’s about being able to take care of you and the babies. You won’t be able to do that here, at your brother’s house. Besides, this place is too small for what’s coming.”
Madeline doesn’t look at him, just stares at her hands folded in her lap. She’s quiet for a long moment before finally speaking.
“I can handle it here,” she mutters. “I don’t need you guys to make any decisions for me.”
Asher’s about to respond, but Leo cuts him off. “She’s right. But we’re all in this. You’re not doing it alone, Madeline.” His voice is low, authoritative, the coach in him surfacing. “This is going to affect all of us. We have to be prepared.”
Madeline’s lips tighten, but she doesn’t argue. I can see the exhaustion in her eyes, the weariness she’s been carrying ever since this whole thing started.
Then, Leo, in that familiar way of his, shifts the conversation. “Next game’s in two days. You both better show up. We’re not letting this team fall apart over this, you hear me?”
Asher nods, his lips curving into a half-smile. “We’ll be there. Don’t worry.”
Madeline looks up at him, her expression softening. “I’ll be there. I’ll keep everything to a minimum.”
But her voice breaks just a little when she says it, and I know it’s because of the pressure building inside her. She’s trying to keep it together for us, for all of us, but I can see the cracks starting to show.
Leo walks over to her, sitting beside her. His hand rests on her shoulder, and it’s that same steadying presence I’ve always seen in him.
He doesn’t say anything, but his touch tells her everything she needs to hear.
Then, unexpectedly, she starts to cry. Not the loud, dramatic kind of tears, but soft, quiet sobs that shake her body.
I don’t think any of us know what to do at first. Leo’s eyes soften, and he turns to me.
“She’s scared,” he says quietly. “I get it.”
I pull her closer, my arms around her, my voice low as I comfort her. “We’re all scared, baby. But you’re not alone. Not ever.”
