Chapter 21

WELLS

After bailing Jonas out, we finally make it back to the hotel, and exhaustion consumes me, leaving me in a zombie like state. Every step is heavy, my mind foggy with disbelief. How did things escalate to this point? As the case moves forward, my brother will need to return to court for hearings and proceedings. The hotel couldn't give the cops the security footage because, and I quote, "There was a technical issue, and we have no recordings from the night in question."

You've got to be kidding me. It's obvious that someone paid off the security guards to disable or delete evidence. But how can I prove it?

If I can provide evidence to support my suspicions, then Drew and Claudia could face charges for filing a false police report and tampering with evidence, giving Jonas a fighting chance. My intention is to be readily available for my brother, coming back and forth as needed, to provide support whenever he needs me. He won't do this alone. For now, though, we need to get back to Illinois and make a plan. A plan to get out of this mess, a plan for when the media gets a hold of everything, because they will. And then there's Delilah. I need to figure out how to squeeze in a quick trip to Vegas to win back my woman. My brother was already upset with the news of me impregnating his long-lost daughter. Now, we can just add prison to the mix on top of everything else.

I pack my bags so we can leave first thing in the morning. Instead of staying in my room, I've decided to check out and stay overnight on the couch in my parents' suite.

I get to their room and sink into the cushions, my mind racing.

Mom and Dad are already asleep in their room, but I can't rest. I close my eyes and imagine her beside me, her presence soothing and warm. Yet, the weight of reality comes crashing down. Jonas needs me now. Vegas can wait, but not for long.

I stare at the ceiling, every tick of the clock amplifying the chaos in my head. The legal mess, the future media circus, and Delilah's infectious smile, all blend into an unrelenting loop. I need to get Jonas out of this mess. It is crucial that I find a way to return to Delilah as soon as possible. I need to make this right.

The first light of dawn filters through the curtains, and I hear my parents stirring. I force myself up, muscles protesting from the uncomfortable couch. Dad gives me a tired smile as he walks into the living area.

"Morning, Wells. Ready to head back?" he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

"Yeah, let's get Jonas home," I reply.

We gather our things, the air heavy with unspoken worries. Jonas joins us in the living room, his face a mask of exhaustion and determination. As we check out, the clerk offers a sympathetic smile that does little to ease the weight on our shoulders.

The journey to the airport is quiet as we retreat into our own thoughts. I glance at Jonas, seeing the strain etched into his features. This ordeal has taken a toll on him, but there's a flicker of resolve in his eyes. As we board the plane, I catch Jonas' eye. He nods a silent promise that we'll face this together. We take our seats, and the sound of the engines becomes a soothing background to my racing thoughts.

I close my eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace. But all I see is Delilah, her face a beacon of hope in this storm.

"Hold on, Delilah," I whisper to myself. "I'll be back for you soon. Just hold on."

DELILAH

It's been two weeks since we returned to Vegas, and not much has changed except for one significant decision I made two days ago. I decided to quit the coffee shop. The employees' shitty attitudes and the unreliable hours had worn me down, each day chipping away at my patience and resolve. My feet were on fire after every shift and I could barely fit into my Crocs, the swelling was so bad.

I was standing behind the counter, gripping the edge until my knuckles turned white. "I can't do this anymore," I muttered under my breath. The words tasted of both fear and liberation. I took a deep breath, walked into the manager's office, and quit on the spot.

Now, my only income is from my marketing work. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

What if I fail? What if this is a mistake?

But there's no turning back now. I'm determined to make it work, not just for me, but for the little life growing inside me. I've reached out to all my past clients for reviews, hoping their kind words will attract new business. One of my old regulars from Hidden Gems offered to spruce up my website. She didn't even ask for money; she just wants to see me thrive as a new mom. Her generosity brought tears to my eyes.

"Maybe this will work out," I whisper to myself in the quiet of our apartment. "Maybe this is the fresh start I need."

As I stare at my laptop screen, waiting for emails to come in, anxiety and hope swirl within me. This is it. This is my chance to prove to myself that I can do this, that I can provide a stable life for my child. No more shitty coffee shop jobs. No more stripping. Just me, my laptop, and the future I'm building one keystroke at a time.

Now, if only this newfound determination to manifest a better future for me and Little Boba could include Wells. I haven't heard a single word from him. I can't believe I was so naive to think we could make it work. The silence is deafening, each passing day adding to the weight of disappointment settling in my chest.

Don't get me wrong, I was hoping for something to bloom between us beyond just mind-blowing sex. I want more than just a surface-level connection. I long for a deep bond and a solid foundation for a healthy co-parenting relationship that would benefit our child. But it's abundantly clear that everything Jonas said at dinner that night was true, at least when it came to Wells. I know he didn't con me into sleeping with him that night all those months ago. I made that choice on my own, without any outside influence. However, it's apparent I was just an easy lay, a box to check off on his ‘fuck it' list. If I wasn't, he would have found a way to be here. He would have chased me down, like he claimed he did when I'd given him the wrong number.

The only good thing that came out of that trip to Florida was finally finding out who my dad is. And Rhonda is a dream. We've texted a few times here and there, nothing too meaningful, but she's always so kind, so reassuring.

I'm also at fault for not making an effort to reach out to them. But what do I say? ‘Hey, it's me. The granddaughter you just met. Do you wanna Facetime and see my baby bump?'

The door opens and I spin around on the couch, wondering why Derek is home early. He had a meeting with the head boss today and he was nervous. His being home at this hour is not a good sign.

He enters the room, closes the door behind him, and makes a beeline for the kitchen. Moments later, he reemerges with a cold beer in hand.

"Bad news?" I ask as he flops onto the couch next to me and pulls my feet into his lap.

"Fired," he sighs.

"Why did they let you work since we've been back, if they were gonna let you go?" I ask, wanting to make sense of why they didn't just fire him on his first shift back.

"They had Violet take my spot. Apparently, the last two weeks were for her to just make sure she was comfortable. Explains all the questions. I just thought she got more annoying while we were gone." He takes a long chug of his beer.

"I'm sorry." I flash him a pout. "You got fired for supporting me at the shitshow of a wedding."

"Don't be sorry, babe. I'd have it no other way. You needed me, and that's that. Plus, after everything that came out in Florida, I would have been angry to miss witnessing that tea spill in person."

"I hate you." I laugh.

"How often do I get to witness my best bitch finding out her one-night stand baby daddy is her uncle? And we finally found out who your missing father is."

"Step uncle," I correct. We're not blood. Our only relation is through marriage and I'm holding onto that.

"Tomato. Ta-mah-toe."

"Seriously, Derek. What are we gonna do? I left the coffee shop of horrors and you're now unemployed. How are we gonna pay our rent?"

"I've been applying at places just in case. Since I knew the meeting was coming up, I posted my resume on a few hospitality sites. It'll all work out, babe. I promise. Don't panic."

My phone rings loudly, and I quickly snatch it from the arm of the couch, hoping to see "Chicago" displayed on the screen.

It doesn't.

It's fucking Claudia. I hit the ignore button, rolling my eyes in annoyance, before swiftly blocking her contact. Drew gets the same treatment, and I set my phone back down, only to see Derek with a brow raised, staring at me.

"Claudia. I'm not speaking to her for a long-ass time, if ever again. I blocked her and ‘Daddy.'"

"You should have done it a long time ago." He shrugs. "But then we wouldn't have received an invitation to Maury live at the beach." He laughs, a deep belly laugh.

I raise my foot and forcefully bring it down on his thigh. "You're an asshole." I join him, laughing.

"I was hoping it would be Wells," he tells me.

"That ship has sailed, I'm pretty sure. Just another letdown in my life, but that's okay. Little Boba and I have Uncle Derek, and that's all we need. The three amigos."

"Damn right."

We spend the rest of the afternoon together, discussing potential job opportunities for Derek, and brainstorming ways to manage our expenses until he finds something. I'm feeling the weight of this pregnancy, occasionally rubbing my swollen belly and trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'll be eight months pregnant soon.

As evening approaches, we decide to order takeout since neither of us feels like cooking. Derek insists on treating me to my favorite Thai food, despite our tightened budget. We eat in comfortable silence until Derek speaks.

"Did you see the girls at Hidden Gems dressed as gemstones for Halloween? Most uncreative group costume for the club ever," Derek says around a mouthful of noodles.

"Yeah, I saw it on Granite's Instagram. We were supposed to be Barbies since the movie was released this year, but they must have changed the plan."

I feel a pang of disappointment about Halloween. It's usually a fun night for us, filled with horror movies and candy after work. But this year, I hung out alone on the couch while Derek worked. He didn't want to tempt fate by asking for another night off when today's meeting was looming over him.

"I can't believe Halloween passed without us doing anything," I murmur.

"I know," Derek replies softly, running a hand over his hair. "I wish I wouldn't have had to work. Next year, we'll make up for it, I promise," he assures me and then changes the subject, trying to lighten the mood. "What are we gonna do for Thanksgiving?"

I forgot all about it being Turkey Month; my second favorite holiday.

"No plans here. We could do a low-key thing together. I can cook," I suggest, trying to envision a cozy Thanksgiving with just the two of us.

"Will you make me a pecan pie?" Derek asks playfully.

"Duh."

"Alright then, it's gonna be just us and a little feast. I like it. You could go into labor, though. How fun would it be if you had a Thanksgiving or Black Friday baby?"

"Thanksgiving, yes. Black Friday, no. I would have no money. They'd figure out all the good deals on their birthday and break the bank," I joke.

After we finish our meal, Derek cleans up despite my protests that he's done enough by treating me to dinner. He insists it's the least he can do, so as he rinses the dishes and neatly stacks them in the dishwasher, I help by gathering the empty takeout containers and tossing them in the recycling bin.

As we work together, I feel a deep appreciation for Derek and his unwavering, all-in friendship. Despite the uncertainties and challenges we're facing, his presence and willingness to share in the responsibilities and joys of this pregnancy, is something I will be forever grateful for.

"You tired, love?" Derek asks softly, stepping over to me and brushing a loose strand of hair from my face.

"A bit," I admit with a yawn. "Today was a lot."

Derek nods in understanding, his hand gently rubbing my back. "You're doing amazing, you know that? I'm proud of you."

I smile sleepily, snuggling closer to him. "Thanks, Derek."

"You should go to bed."

I nod, reluctantly stepping away and giving him a small smile. I make my way to my bedroom and slide under the covers.

As I lie there, feeling Little Boba's steady kicking inside me, I think about how grateful I am for these quiet moments, just me and my baby. I know that no matter what, I'm going to give this little human growing inside of me the best life he or she could ever dream of.