40
Felix
Felix picks nervously at the rough maroon fabric of his shirt, twisting it between his fingers.
He’s fired. It’s oddly liberating. Terrifying, too, when he doesn’t have the earnings from his watercolors yet. But he has Kade, and Kade has offered him and the child shelter.
He trudges behind Kade as they walk up the stairs, looking at the framed paintings on the walls—oil pastels, watercolors, inked sketches of a lake. He remembers Kade’s family home from a decade ago, when his brothers squabbled over the TV, and his father sawed up planks in the garage. At the end of the hallway, his bay painting hangs on the wall, facing them as they climb the stairs. Felix gulps, tears prickling at his eyes.
How can he stay in this house for even a minute? He was the one who caused it all to shatter. He can’t leave Kade and his mother ignorant for years, can he?
They find Kade’s mom in her bedroom, folding some laundry. The child squirms in Felix’s belly.
Kade’s mom has known about it since his last visit. Kade might have told her it isn’t his. And Felix doesn’t know how to talk to his alpha’s mom, if she believes he’s carrying someone else’s child. They might think of it as infidelity. And it’s just as bad, isn’t it? Kade doesn’t want a baby at all.
Kade knocks on the open door. Felix pauses next to him, working up a smile. “Hello again, Mrs. Brentwood.”
She looks up, smiling. “Hello, Felix. Aren’t you working today? Kade mentioned you’re only free on Saturdays.”
Felix cringes. I was just fired doesn’t sound good any way he phrases it.
“I got him to quit his job,” Kade says, looking at him from the corner of his eye. “Figured it would be better for him to focus on painting.”
Mrs. Brentwood beams. “That’s wonderful!”
“I guess,” Felix says, his heart pattering. That went better than I expected.
“He’s worried about rent, so I said he’s welcome to live with us whenever,” Kade says, slipping his hand into Felix’s. It curls large and warm around his fingers, and Felix hangs on to it, glad for the whisper of comfort Kade offers.
“I really don’t want to bother you,” he says.
“Nonsense! You’re always welcome here, as you were before.” Kade’s mom smiles, patting an empty spot on her mattress. “Would you like to stay for a chat?”
Felix hesitates. Twenty years ago, Mrs. Brentwood had welcomed him into their home, allowing him and Kade to do their homework together. It’s very kind of her to extend that same hospitality again. His alpha nods toward his mom, and Felix breathes in deeply, stepping forward. A conversation wouldn’t be difficult, would it?
“I’m going back to work,” Kade says, glancing at Felix, then his mom. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
“See you at dinner,” she says. “Felix?”
His feet heavy, Felix trudges further into the room. Sunlight slants in through the curtained windows, and white drawers sit on either side of the queen-sized bed. He plants himself gingerly on the mattress, among blouses and skirts and towels.
“How are you doing?” Kade’s mom asks, turning to hang a skirt in her closet.
Not that great. Felix swallows. “Okay, I suppose. I sold some paintings last week.”
“That’s exciting!”
“It is. Kade helped me pack them for shipping.”
“So he said.” She slips hangers into her blouses, turning back to her closet. “And how is the baby?”
Felix stops breathing. He hadn’t expected her to ask this so soon, especially when she’d seen through his secret. He looks down at the bulge of his abdomen. “It’s fine. Kade brought me to the doctor two weeks ago. I had an ultrasound done.”
She brightens, pausing with a towel in her hands. “So... about twenty-two weeks along?”
“Twenty-four,” Felix says, touching his belly again. The child moves inside, a bare flutter, and maybe he’s more comfortable thinking about himself as a father now. And because he can’t lie to her, Felix checks the empty doorway to make sure his alpha’s not around. Then he murmurs, “It’s Kade’s.”
It feels like a boulder rolling off his chest. Felix breathes in deep, looking down so he doesn’t have to see her reaction.
Mrs. Brentwood stills. Her stare prickles his skin, and Felix touches his belly, holding on to his child.
“Oh, Felix,” she says. She sweeps away the jumble of clothes next to him, sitting by his side in a rush of lilac-scented air. He glances up—she isn’t angry that I lied?—and blinks when she takes his hand in her own, looking into his eyes. “Do you know how upset he was when you said it isn’t his?”
Felix looks down at their hands, guilt flushing hot through his cheeks. Kade had been furious. But wasn’t it because Felix had lied to him? He had glowered back in the department store months ago, and Felix had shaken with terror. Kade’s never touched his abdomen, or shown any sign of wanting the child. Maybe Mrs. Brentwood read him wrong. “Oh.”
“You should tell him,” she says, squeezing his hand. “It’ll save you both a lot of pain.”
But how does he tell Kade that the baby is his, when it’s been almost a month since he spun that lie? He doesn’t want Kade to know he’s lying again, doesn’t want to hurt Kade any more than he already has. “I’ll try,” Felix says, gulping. “I don’t... don’t want him to hate me.”
“He’ll never hate you,” she says, slipping her arm around his shoulders. “You know him best, don’t you?”
Felix shrugs, staring at his belly. Kade wouldn’t want this child.
“Come on, why don’t you help me with these clothes,” Mrs. Brentwood says, getting to her feet. “If you decide to move in with us, I’m sure Kade will be happy to help.”
“You don’t mind if I move in?” he asks. She doesn’t know he caused the bankruptcy, either. Felix never wants her to find out.
“Of course not.” She beams at him, crow’s feet at her eyes.
