Ryan’s eyes are wide and wild. He’s livid and practically snarling at Jake.
I rush around to his other side, ready to grab his arm, although I’ve never actually seen Ryan punch anyone or anything.
“What the hell is going on? Are you two a thing?” His gaze turns to me, and under that anger is hurt. “How long have you been hiding this from me?”
“We weren’t trying to hide anything from you,” Jake says quietly. Calmly.
“Bullshit!” Ryan runs his hands through his hair. “That is fucking bull! How could you two do this? And behind our backs?” He spins back to Jake. “I trusted you to have Hanna’s best interests in mind and you get her pregnant! Does this mean you’re together now?”
Queenie’s expression is torn. She glances among the three of us and steps in front of Ryan again, settling her palms on his chest. Her voice is gentle but firm. “My King, I need you to take a breath. I know you’re hurt right now, and blindsided, but if we can’t listen to what they have to say, then we can’t understand. And this reaction isn’t going to help any of us, and all it’s going to do is make you feel bad later. Let’s take a breath and a moment, and listen.”
Ryan drags both of his hands down his face and blinks a bunch of times. He looks restless in his own skin.
He doesn’t take a seat on the couch again. This time he crosses over to the chair and drops down into it, pulling Queenie onto his lap like she’s some kind of human shield or his personal support human. Which I suppose she is.
I’m so glad he has her by his side to navigate life with. He deserves to be loved the way she loves him.
Jake takes a seat beside me. He puts his hand on his knee and glances at mine, which is in my lap.
I move it to the cushion beside me and he covers my hand with his, squeezing. I can hear Ryan’s teeth grinding together from where he’s sitting. I try to put myself in his shoes. He’s spent so much of his life in the dark, and we’ve had to rebuild our relationship since he found out he’s my son and not my brother. I know it’s been hard on him, and this must feel very much like a betrayal.
He’s unfailingly loyal. It’s one of the things I love most about him. It’s also challenging because Ryan often sees things only in black and white. There’s no room for grey when it comes to trust and honesty with him.
“Ryan, I understand that you’re shocked, and to be honest, so are we.”
“How long has this been going on?” His voice is quiet and raw, the hurt clear on his face.
“It was only supposed to be casual.” Jake rushes to my defense, then adds, “We’d been spending a lot of time together, as friends.”
“Planning for our wedding,” Queenie says softly.
“Obviously that changed,” Ryan says with a bite.
“It wasn’t intentional,” I tell them. “We didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We didn’t want to make things . . . complicated.” It’s not untrue. We truly had tried our best to stay on the right side of the friendship line. But staying at his house, spending time with him, late nights talking—eventually a late-night hot tub hang out turned into a late-night romp. And those romps kept happening until the wedding.
“Hanna and I have a lot in common, and we understand each other in ways not many people can,” Jake explains. “I can’t pretend I know how this feels for you, Ryan, but we did try to keep things platonic.”
“So you accidentally slept with my . . . Hanna?” Ryan blows out a breath. “You know what, you don’t need to answer that. How long have you known about the baby?” He looks between us.
“I found out yesterday afternoon, and I told Jake last night,” I say.
“Oh.” He rubs the space between his eyes, clearly struggling to digest all of this. “What the heck happened to using condoms?”
“We didn’t think it was something we needed to worry about, seeing as I’ve been menopausal for two years.” It’s not entirely true, but explaining what actually happened isn’t something I feel the need to do. That this is even a conversation I have to have, with Ryan of all people, is mind-boggling.
“There’s definitely some irony in that,” Queenie says with a chuckle. She moves to the chair next to Ryan, probably because his knee is bouncing with his anxiety.
He gives her a dark look. “This isn’t a joke, Queenie.”
“I know, but it’s not like it can be undone. And it clearly wasn’t intentional.” Queenie puts her hand over his and gives it a squeeze, likely to remind him that she’s on his side. “Does this mean that you’ll be moving to Seattle?”