The mansion had been their home.
Sitting on the flimsy plastic seat, Valen stared at his phone. Waited for a text or a call from Harris, telling them that had been a sick game of Pretend.
But as the minutes ticked by, as the murmuring in the emergency room filled his ears, Valen realized Harris wasn’t calling back. They’d broken up with Harris for real.
Valen swayed in his seat, trying to wrap his mind around that. Sam looked at Valen’s phone, too. “Did Harris...”
“Nothing from him,” Valen said. Couldn’t believe this was happening.
But maybe this had been coming all along, and he’d just never thought it would happen.
Valen leaned into Sam, breathing in his omega. Touched Sam’s belly, hoping their baby was okay. At least he still had Sam. At least he’d never marked Harris.
“Does it still hurt?” he asked.
Sam shook his head. “I don’t know how big of an impact it was. I just... it hurt when I fell.”
Valen closed his eyes, nauseous.
He wasn’t the best alpha for Sam. Harris was. Valen was just getting by, a low-ranking firefighter at the station. He didn’t even own an apartment. He’d probably lost his inheritance, and he’d been spending all that money with Harris, thinking Harris would always be there.
Gods, he’d been an idiot.
He could still afford to pay for the baby now, if he watched his spending. They’d be fine. Valen would look for an apartment, and they’d start afresh. He’d take Harris’ place as Sam’s alpha, too, work however many jobs he needed.
Harris, you bastard. You promised to be Sam’s alpha. That baby is also yours.
Without Harris, was Valen worth staying around for? Valen had let Sam down once. Was Sam leaning on Valen now because he had no one else?
Valen wound his arms around Sam and buried his face in Sam’s shoulder, heartsick.
30
Sam
The wait at the A&E department took far too long.
Sam tried not to think about the baby. But that led his thoughts back to the station—he’d climbed the stairs and heard Harris arguing with Valen, Harris telling Valen they weren’t his.
Harris had broken up with them. Valen’s dad had seen Harris and Valen together, and that had put both their jobs at risk.
If Sam hadn’t suggested they wake Harris up with sex, if they hadn’t tried to celebrate Harris’ birthday this morning... maybe everything would still be fine. There wouldn’t have been an argument. Valen wouldn’t have needed to apologize to Harris.
Sam had heard the news, and he’d tripped on the stairs, his belly too big for him to see his feet. Then he’d fallen, and there had been pain. Maybe in his hip, maybe in his belly. He’d read up on miscarriages through the third trimester, found out about broken amniotic sacs and early labor.
If either happened... Sam might lose his baby.
He cradled his belly and leaned into Valen, his throat tight. He’d lost Harris. Sam hadn’t thought Harris would leave them so quickly, but Harris had. Was it because Sam might lose the baby, and Harris couldn’t bear to stay around to witness it? Was it because Sam had taken Valen away from him?
I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, Harris.
Sam touched his belly, but Landon didn’t kick.
If he’d never gotten involved with Valen and Harris, would Valen still have Harris by his side? Probably.
His chest tightened.
“Sam Brentwood,” the nurse called.
Sam jumped, then scrubbed at his face. He’d been crying. Valen looked at him, horrified. “I didn’t realize...”
“It’s fine,” Sam said. He wasn’t going to run crying to Valen for every little thing. “It’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault,” Valen muttered, wiping Sam’s tears off his cheeks.
Valen helped Sam to his feet, walking with him to a small office. There, a doctor checked Sam’s heartbeat. Sam told the doctor about tripping on the stairs, and Valen’s lips thinned.
The doctor pressed lightly on Sam’s belly. She had a grassy, herbal scent, and rectangular glasses perched on her nose. “Do you feel any pain?”
Sam shook his head.
The doctor pressed her stethoscope to Sam’s belly, listening from different spots. “The fetal heartbeat is a little high,” she said. “We’ll measure it again in half an hour.”
Gods, Landon had felt the fall, hadn’t he? Was he scared? Sam touched his belly, lying back on the exam bed when the doctor asked him to, pulling his pants off.
“Do you feel any wetness when you relax?” the doctor asked. She pulled on a pair of gloves, then squeezed some gel onto them. “I’ll have to do a swab inside you to check for amniotic fluid leakage. Tell me if you feel any pain. I’ll stop if you do.”
Sam nodded. Held his breath when the doctor slid two fingers into him, a cotton swab held between her fingers. Her touch was cold, clinical. Nothing like Valen’s, or Harris’.
Valen growled anyway, his eyes narrowed. Sam squeezed his hand. Tried not to think about his water breaking, or his baby sliding out, half-formed and far too young.
He sighed when the doctor withdrew her fingers, tucking the damp cotton swab into a zipper bag. Sam pulled his clothes back on.
“We’ll have the results in an hour,” the doctor said, giving him a tiny smile. “For now, your baby seems to be fine.”
At least Landon still had a heartbeat. But what if it faded?
Sam clung to Valen, following him back out to the waiting area. They stopped by the cashier, and Sam watched as Valen pulled out his credit card. It wasn’t Harris’ metal credit card, but a dark blue one that Valen sometimes used for his own purchases.
Valen had never done that before, not shared the baby’s expenses with Harris. And it hurt again, remembering that Harris had walked away from them.
A baby’s never been in his cards, Harris had said.
“The total comes up to $437.45.” The cashier turned the card reader toward them. “Additional charges will be billed to you.”
Valen winced, but slid his card through the reader anyway.
Valen had
