Page 16 of Through the Storm

Ella appears beside me with a basket, grinning like she just caught me committing a felony.

“Are you scared of diapers?” she asks.

I drag a hand through my hair. “Do babies really need all this? How do you even pick?” I gesture helplessly. “There are, like, thirty different pacifiers.”

She bites her lip to keep from laughing. Fails. “Wow. My cousin,the big bad D1 quarterback, taken down by silicone nipples.”

“I’m not scared,” I mutter. “It’s just… there are a lot of options.” I clear my throat. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

Ella’s teasing expression fades. She bumps my shoulder, gentler now. “You won’t. Katy’s going to see this and melt.”

I snort. “Or throw it at my head.”

She laughs, loud enough that a couple of moms pushing strollers glance our way. “Ben, you are literally the sweetest guy I know. She’d have to be crazy not to appreciate this.”

If only she had any idea this isn’t me being a supportive cousin. That every bottle I pick up, every onesie I turn over, I’m silently asking myself the same question.

Is this formykid?

I toss an absurd number of pacifiers into the basket. All different brands and different shapes. I’ve got backup plans for my backup plans. I will not screw this up.

Then I spot it.

A tiny onesie with a kitten in the middle. Mini Katy Cat.

I don’t hesitate. I grab it.

It’s ridiculous.

And somehow… perfect.

“Okay,” I say. “If she murders me for this, I’m haunting you.”

Ella smirks. “Fair. I’m sure she won’t though. You’re going to be the cutest uncle ever.”

I manage a smile.

But the wordunclelands sharp. It feels wrong.

I already want this kid to be mine more than I know what to do with.

KATY

I’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times.

How to say it calmly. How to keep my voice steady. How not to fall apart when disappointment inevitably settles into the room.

Except standing here now, I still don’t feel prepared.

I spent my whole life trying to be the perfect child. The impressive one. The daughter who never embarrassed them. I never thought I would be preparing to have this conversation.

“So…” I stand in the middle of the dining room. “I have some news.”

My parents look at me. My mother picks up her wine glass. My father waits, expression unreadable. His eyes are the same dark blue as mine and Declan’s, but there’s nothing gentle in them.

“I’m pregnant.”

Silence.