Page 138 of Sin Bin Daddies
“I don’t know,” I breathe. “My body hurts. My chest aches. I’m exhausted. And there are babies in there, and I keep thinking what if something had gone wrong?—”
“But it didn’t,” he says firmly. “You’re okay. They’re okay. That’s all that matters right now.”
I nod.
Henry exhales. “Mom and Dad saw the news. I told them you were fine, that I’d come instead. They’re worried. You know how they are.”
I groan. “God, please don’t let them fly out.”
“I won’t,” he promises.
I look at him, the only person in the world who’s known me through every messy version of myself. “What do I do, Hen? I don’t know how to come back from this.”
He’s quiet for a moment. Then he sighs. “I ran into Ethan in Boston last week.”
I tense.
“He wasn’t alone,” Henry says. “He was with a woman. And he wasn’t exactly being discreet. And no, it wasn’t his new girlfriend.”
I wait for the sting. For the betrayal. For the sharp ache that used to follow every mention of Ethan’s name.
Nothing.
Not even a spark of rage.
Henry watches me carefully. “If you want to end your sabbatical, hide out in Boston with me for a bit, I’ll make it happen. I’ll cover for you, get you set up. You can disappear if that’s what you need.”
I stare at the wall.
“But,” he continues, “I think you should stay. For them. They clearly love you. And you love them.”
I nod once, quiet.
“I know,” he adds gently. “You don’t have to say it. I’ve never seen you look at anyone like that before. Let alone three people.”
“I love them,” I whisper.
He squeezes my hand again. “I know you do. But you don’t have to decide anything today. Not about them. Not about the media. Not even about the future. All you have to think about right now is taking care of yourself. And those babies.”
The tears return. I don’t wipe them away this time.
I just let my brother hold me.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, I believe it might be okay.
Eventually.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Leo
Steam swirlsaround me in the shower, rinsing off the last of the hospital smell. I let the hot water soak into my muscles, try to scrub off the panic from earlier, the helplessness of watching her collapse and not being able to do a damn thing.
I keep thinking of her pale face, the beeping machines, the uneven breaths. She scared the shit out of me. And somehow, seeing her open her eyes, even for a second, was enough to keep me going.
Once I’m dry, I throw on a clean shirt and jeans. Still haven’t eaten, but I can’t think about food. I’m running on adrenaline and beer at this point.
My hair’s still damp when I find Logan in the kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, sipping something cold.
