Page 57 of Her Ex's Father
Benedict
The low hum of the ultrasound machine fills the room. It’s steady, rhythmic, but my chest still feels like it’s being squeezed in a vice.
Was I this nervous the first time?
Meredith, the midwife, is speaking calmly as she guides the probe across Maddie’s stomach. “Everything looks good for three months along,” she says, her voice practiced and serene. “The heartbeat is strong. At sixteen to twenty weeks, we’ll schedule the anatomy scan—see growth, organs, sex if you want to know.”
Her words float around me like pollen I can’t catch. I’m focused on the grainy image flickering across the monitor. A small form, shadow, and light, impossibly delicate. Our child.
A wave of fear and excitement crash through me.Our child.I’m going to be a father again.
It’s only now that I’m realizing, all these years—even before Georgiana passed away—I thought I was nearing a dead end. That there would be no new chapters for the life I’m living.
What else could I possibly achieve in life?
But this—Maddie, her big eyes glued to the screen, Stella tearing up, and our child only a breath away—thisis more than I could have ever imagined.
Maddie squeezes my hand, smiling faintly through the glow of the screen. “See, Ben? They’re fine.”
I nod, though the knot in my chest doesn’t ease. Finenow. What about tomorrow? What about every day after? The responsibility presses against me with unbearable weight—because if something happens, it will be my failure. My blood has never brought joy without cost.
Meredith turns off the machine, removes her gloves. “All good signs. Keep eating, keep resting. I’ll check in again soon. And I’m happy to come out to the lodge,” her eyes catch mine meaningfully as Maddie starts to sit up, “if you two would prefer.”
Maddie pulls her cardigan around her shoulders, presses a paper towel to the cold gel on her belly. “Thanks, Meredith.”
“Of course.” The midwife gathers her things, polite smile in place. “I’ll see you next week.”
When she leaves the room, Maddie slips off the exam bed, cheeks flushed. “I’ll just run to the restroom—get cleaned up.” She looks to Stella, who has been perched in the chair like a hawk the whole time. “Don’t let him brood while I’m gone, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.” Stella grins, and Maddie disappears out the door.
The grin vanishes the second the latch clicks. Stella swivels toward me, crossing her arms. For a moment I’m almost amused—she’s twenty-two and somehow manages to look like she runs this entire resort. And she obviously has Maddie wrapped around her finger.
“You scare her sometimes,” she says flatly.
I arch a brow. “Excuse me?”
“You sit there like a storm cloud, saying nothing, and she wonders if you regret all of it—her, the baby, the marriage. But I know you don’t.” Her gaze sharpens. “Do you?”
“No,” I snap. Too quickly, too sharp.
Stella doesn’t flinch. “Then prove it. Protect her. Don’t use her up and toss her aside when you get bored. She deserves better than being another one of your business deals.”
The accusation lashes, and for once I don’t have the armor ready. I lean forward, jaw tight. “Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I haven’t considered what this means?”
Her eyes flicker. She wasn’t expecting me to rise to it.
“Would you keep her safe, Ben?” There’s a light, almost pleading edge to the words, giving me pause. “If something happened. if there was a threat. You’d keep her safe, right? Not throw her to the wolves?”
Throw her to the wolves.
The question gives me pause. What wolves could possibly be out there? Not the high society of Aspen, no, those morons are more like magpies; noisy, chattering, gossiping constantly.
“Of course.”
There’s no thought, just the response. The weight of it sitting in the room with us. Stella sits back, arms still crossed, eyes still troubled, but the edge of anxiety is gone now.
Has Madeline really been doubting me that much, that her little sister is ready to tear my throat out in an OBGYN office?
