Page 15 of Through the Storm

“No. I actually don’t know that. It’s too fucking late, Ben.”

Then she shuts the door.

The porch light clicks off, leaving me standing there alone.

KATY

The second the door clicks shut, I press my back against it and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor, hoodie sleeves pulled over my hands like armor.

My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might crack my ribs.

Ben actually came to my house. Stood on my porch. Looked at me, at my belly, like it mattered. LikeImattered.

I knew Ella was going to tell them today. I asked her to tell her family for me. She’d promised to be gentle, but that still meant I’d officially been presented to the Winters tribunal. I’d braced for the fallout.

I even braced for Ben.

What I wasn’t braced for was how much it affected me when he actually showed up. When he asked if I was okay. Some traitorous, pathetic part of me swooned.

Swooned.

As if him standing there meant something more than panic and guilt.

For one dangerous second, I liked that he worried. That he came looking for me instead of pretending he hadn’t heard.

And then the second passed, and I hated myself for it.

Because seriously, Katy? This is the guy who couldn’t even send a text after sleeping with you. After taking your virginity. He made you feel disposable. Forgettable. And now you’re supposed to believe he cares because he’s standing on your porch?

So, I did what I always do when I’m scared. I held my chin high and gave him hell.

He earned it.

Still… the way his face fell when I said the baby might not be his almost made me take it back.

And yet, Ben stood there and took it. Looking like the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders.

But caring isn’t the same as staying. So I protected myself the only way I knew how: I shut him out first.

Ben Davis doesn’t want me enough. And I will not be stupid enough to forget that again.

Except later, when I’m sitting on the couch and staring at the ceiling, one thought loops through my head like a betrayal:I really hope the baby is his.

CHAPTER FIVE

ben

WE’VE GOT YOU

If words won’t getthrough to Katy, maybe actions will. I’ve always been better at that anyway. I need her to know that I’m here. That I have her back.

Which is how I end up standing in the baby aisle at Target, surrounded by tiny socks and approximately one million onesies, trying to figure out which one saysI care about youwithout actually saying it.

This aisle is terrifying.

Bottles. Pacifiers. Swaddles. Carriers. Each one promising to solve a problem I don’t even understand yet. I stare at a wall of bottles labeledcolic controlandnatural flow, like choosing the wrong one might trigger a baby apocalypse.

“Earth to Ben.”