25. Ethan

25

ETHAN

H alloween already. I knuckled my cheek to ease the knot of tension building in my jaw and smiled at the employees milling around the lounge. The Halloween party was always an event worth seeing. At least half the office dressed up. I’d spotted three angels, two devils, a maid, and some cosplay characters that I should know but struggled to place. The whole first floor of the building had been turned into party central.

Clara swept past in in a long maxi dress that brushed her ankles. Cartoon witches on brooms and scattered drops of candy corn covered the purple fabric. Long, bell sleeves tapered to a point well past her hands, and she pushed them back to her elbows while reaching for a cup at the drink table.

I made my way over to stand beside her. “How are you feeling?” Picking up my own cup, I filled both glasses from the crystal punch bowl and added an extra slice of orange to hers. She’d been on a citrus kick lately, eating oranges all hours of the day and night. Her belly poked out just a bit, enough that I had to shove my empty hand into my pocket to keep from touching her.

We’d established our rules for the office to keep things under wraps. Clara hid her pregnancy from everyone, and so far, no one seemed wise to her changing body. The maxi dresses helped, but there were times, like now, when it was obvious to anyone looking. Or maybe that was simply because I was so intimate with her body and the changes that had started occurring after that first ultrasound.

She side-eyed me and sipped her punch. “I’m great. My ankles are swollen, and my feet look like sausages with blunt little toes poking out. My back aches, and I’ll have to pee five times in the next hour.” She huffed a laugh, her complaints no different from yesterday. “But I’m fine. Really.” Her fingers flexed on the glass, tightening and releasing. “Allan’s here.”

Anger coursed through me. We’d done everything we could to get rid of the man, but the board didn’t see things our way. We brought up evidence Clara provided for us, but they’d said his work record made him indispensable to the company. I’d begun to understand Clara’s frustration with the patriarchy when I watched that board of men back one of their own regardless of the evidence against him. “Stay close to me. He’ll leave you alone if you’re with one of us.”

She rolled her eyes in that way of hers, the one that said I’d made a point she already knew. “It’s time for the costume contest. You think Liam will actually dress up?”

“Looks that way.” I nudged her hip with mine and raised my glass toward the stage.

Liam strode onto the platform and whipped the mic from its stand. “Who’s ready for the contest?” He threw his head back and laughed, the stage lights catching on the sequins sewn all over his suit jacket.

“He looks like that guy.” She snapped her fingers in rapid sequence. “I can’t remember his name. Mom used to tell me about him all the time. He wore a different jacket to every game show.”

“Come on, everyone line up.” Liam boomed out the order with a wave. “Cast your votes for your favorite costume.”

“I’d vote for Allan as the company rat, but I don’t want him to win anything,” I muttered into Clara’s ear.

She snorted into her cup. “Don’t make me choke on my punch.” A sweaty sheen dotted her forehead.

I eyed her, lingering as long as I dared. The weight she’d gained from the pregnancy settled in her hips and breasts, making it increasingly difficult to keep my hands off her. But she’d been in good spirits throughout the ordeal of growing three lives inside her body.

A few glances from other women—and a few men—cut our way. One in particular turned suspicious when Clara started to rest a hand on her stomach. Much longer and the secret would be impossible to hide. We continued to argue over the best route forward.

Clara remained resolute in not telling anyone at the office that we were the fathers, or that any one of us could be the father. Our reputations and employment with the company were too important to her.

“Is he that guy from the movie, what’s his face with the crazy hair?” Alexander walked up behind Clara, stopping just short of putting his hand on her back.

“I can’t tell.” Clara tipped her head one way, then the other. “The light’s making me dizzy. Too many sparkles.” She put a hand to her head and closed her eyes. “I’m going to stand over there.”

We moved together in a way we’d become accustomed to in the last few months. Our world revolved around Clara. I loved her, craved her, and never wanted to leave her side.

She tried to wave us off, but a wobbly step that sent her sideways put us both in motion. We leapt up to catch her, the sweat on her brow spreading down her temples. She shivered. “Why is the air conditioning on? It’s freezing in here.”

“It’s not cold,” I argued before I thought better of contradicting her fluctuating hormones. Her body temperature alternated faster than a storm blowing in over the mountains. One minute she’d be freezing, wrapped up in every blanket we owned, and the next she’d threaten to walk around naked because of the heat.

The shudder rolling through her body turned her toward me. “Ethan, something’s wrong.” She held onto my shoulders, her fingers spasming. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her entire body went limp.

“Alexander.” I cradled Clara close to my chest and eased her onto the floor.

“I’m calling 911.” His phone was already pressed to his ear, his demands cracking through the device as he answered questions.

I cupped Clara’s face between my palms. “Clara? Wake up.” I shook her shoulder a bit. “Come on. You have to wake up.”

“They’re on the way.” Alexander dropped to a knee beside me. “She’s breathing. Slow and steady. Pulse is fast.” He nodded at whatever the person on the phone said. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll be waiting.” Panic-filled eyes met mine. “Five minutes.”

I’d never known five minutes to last an eternity, but they did when Clara lay prone on the floor.

Liam ushered everyone back, doing his best to keep a perimeter around her. “Go on. Don’t crowd.” He tunneled a hand through his hair. “EMTs will be here soon to check on her. Why don’t you all head into the kitchen. We had some excellent food prepared, and Robbie’s going to open a bottle of wine.”

Robbie looked at Clara, concern evident in the twist of her mouth, but she shooed everyone ahead of her. “Come on. Let’s have something to eat and drink and let Clara have a bit of quiet.”

“Her dress,” Liam hissed when he backed close enough. “Can you fix her dress?”

I scanned Clara from head to toe. She lay flat on her back, her dress clinging to her stomach. Anyone who thought to look would recognize the pregnancy bump. As though to prove a point, one of the babies moved, causing her stomach to ripple.

Sirens pierced the air. Seconds later, Liam led a man and a woman to Clara.

The woman asked questions in a calm but efficient manner.

“She’s pregnant.” Alexander let out a shaky breath. “She was fine, then she collapsed.”

“We need to take her to the hospital.” The female EMT grabbed the rolling stretcher and gave each of us a piercing look. “We have room in the ambulance for one other person. Anyone else who wants to come can follow in their car.”

“I’ll drive.” Alexander pushed to his feet.

I followed. “Liam, go with her. We’ll see you there.”

I’d seen Alexander upset, and in every variation from anger to despair. The man behind the wheel driving us to the hospital was born of panic and loss, a terrible combination that had him taking corners far too fast. My own agony kept me silent. Had we done something wrong? What would happen to Clara and the babies?

My heart attempted to leave my body and fly into the ambulance, anything to be closer to her.

We arrived in a squeal of tires and the ambulance’s roar of sirens. Liam jumped from the back. “She woke up a bit, then nodded off again.” White rimmed his mouth from the force of clamping his lips together. He gripped his hair and pulled. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Inside.” Alexander grabbed each of us and pulled us along behind the EMTs wheeling Clara into the waiting room. Bright light assaulted my eyes. Light and a strange, acidic smell that twisted my stomach.

A man in a white coat with a stethoscope banded around his neck rushed over. The EMTs rattled off numbers that made no sense to me, but the doctor understood. “Any family?”

The woman thumbed toward us. “Those three.”

“Great.” The doctor turned toward us. “I’m Dr. Branson. We’re taking Miss Perry into a room for evaluation. You all can wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I have news.”

This was our punishment for thinking we could have Clara. Reality clawed its way through me. We were the reason she’d collapsed. Our children inside her body, our desperate desire for her brought us here, to this.

My blunted nails scored dark crescents into my palms. I held back the bellow of agony pummeling my heart back into its cage.

Minutes dragged out like hours, every tick of the clock in the blinding white waiting room singing a song of doom. Alexander paced, his frustration mounting with every turn around the room. People watched us, their own ills cast aside for the chance to experience someone else’s misfortune. Let them watch. I remained frozen where the doctor left me, my body too wracked with guilt to move.

“Gentlemen?” A melodious voice trickled through the grief. “Are you here with Clara Perry?”

“Yes.” Alexander closed the distance, stopping to brace my shoulder with his. “How is she?”

“Weak and tired.” The man from before—Dr. Branson—smiled in that careful way of doctors. “Her blood pressure was low. Not surprising since she’s carrying triplets.” He frowned. “I recommend she take a few days off work. Maybe up to a week. She needs time to rest and recover.”

“Done.” My voice broke on the word. I didn’t give a fuck who heard the relief or saw the threat of tears I choked back. “But she will be okay?”

“Yes.” Dr. Branson gave a cautious look at all three of us. “She’s allowed to have one visitor at a time. But I need to run a few more tests and get an ultrasound before anyone can go in. You understand this is a high-risk pregnancy? She will need closer monitoring and possible bed rest until she delivers.”

The room ceased to exist. High-risk. That dreaded word floated around me, needling me. We’d heard her doctor mention it too, but Clara always brushed it off. I’d let her lack of concern sway me into complacency.

“We’ll do whatever we have to.” I grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed until the pain brought me back. “Tell us what to do.”

“Let us do our job. Let Clara rest. That’s all for now.” Dr. Branson turned with a whirl of his white coat.

“We should go back.” Alexander looked past me to Liam. “Stay with her. Report back every few hours.”

Liam pretended to doff an imaginary hat. “With pleasure.” He was far too upbeat for the situation, but I’d known Liam long enough to recognize the white-knuckled grip that held his fear at bay.

“Come on, Ethan.” Alexander’s hand on my elbow had the surreal feel of a dream. He led me from the hospital and back into the car, his hand on the back of my head as he pushed me into the passenger seat. “She’s okay.” He bent at the waist, his body blocking my view of the hospital. “Damn it, Ethan. Breathe.” He slapped me lightly on the cheek.

I swam up out of my emotions, gasping and choking all at the same time.

“Can you keep it together?” His question should bother me, but I’d turned numb. He darted around the car and into the driver’s seat. The drive back to the office blurred between breaths. I concentrated on each one, the feel of the oxygen in my lungs and the relief at Dr. Branson’s words.

I pushed aside Alexander’s hand when he extended it to me, uncertain how long we’d been sitting in the car outside the office. We made our way into the lounge, our steps slow and hollow in the empty space, going on and on until we reached the kitchen.

Questions assaulted us as soon as we opened the door. Robbie whistled, the shriek shutting up everyone in the room.

Alexander eased his hands into his pockets, taking that business pose Clara loved so much. “Clara will be on sick leave for a few days. It’s nothing too serious, so I don’t want you to worry.” His smile was the slick one he used in meetings, the same kind doctors used when they wanted you to trust them.

“More food poisoning?” A voice piped up from the back.

I recognized it but was too slow to call Allan out.

Alexander kept his smile in place. This was why he remained the CEO after all these years. He was damned good at his job. “No. No food poisoning. I’m afraid I can’t discuss Clara’s medical condition without her consent, but I can say she’s awake and recovering.” He backed us out of the room, his palm spread over my stomach to guide me.

What was wrong with me? Clara was the one in trouble, but I was the only one falling apart.

Because I loved her. I loved her and the thought of losing her destroyed me. I would not last a day without her.

We crashed through the door and into the small break room where a single serve coffee maker and a dozen or so small tables occupied the space.

Alexander whirled on me. “What the fuck do we do?”

The explosive question knocked me back a step and cleared my mind. I’d been so lost in my own fear that I missed Alexander’s.

He shook so hard his cuff links rattled. “I can’t lose her, Ethan. We can’t lose her.” Alexander, the strongest, most emotionally distant man I’d ever known, crashed into a chair and dropped his head between his knees.

He’d held it together for me, and now he needed my strength. I lowered myself into the seat beside him and grabbed his shoulder in a tight squeeze. “The doctor said it’s a high-risk pregnancy, but we can handle that. Clara will get all the rest she needs. We won’t lose her.” If there was a God, I prayed he’d hear me and let me keep my word. “We’re all worried. We’re the reason she’s in this position, but we’re in it together. Family.” I pulled him toward me, until his shoulder rammed into my chest and his head landed on my arm. “We’re going to be fathers, Alexander.”

His head lifted. “I never thought we’d end up as fathers.”

Me either. “We have Clara to thank for that.” I made myself smile and pushed him back into the chair. “We can’t keep sitting here. We need to rejoin the party. Clara would want us to keep up the pretense.”

We stood together. I scoured his face for any remaining traces of fear but he’d packed them away behind a thin-lipped smile.

“Let’s go.” He walked ahead of me, straight to the lounge where the party had resumed.

Everyone stopped when we approached. Every single head turned our way. A few laughs tittered around the room, but most of the expressions showed a mix of loathing and anger.

Our phones dinged. I kept one eye on the room and the other on my phone. A video popped up in my chat box. The familiar sight of Alexander hunched in the chair moments ago sent ice down the back of my neck.

In front of me, Robbie raised her phone. My voice rang out, shaky but clear. “We’re going to be fathers, Alexander.”

The rest of the video played, my muted phone showing the scene in vivid detail.

We’d been outed.