Ryan paced the length of his living room, the evidence from Amelia spread out across the coffee table. His fingers dragged through his hair, the tension in his posture palpable. He picked up a damning email, reading it for the third time as disbelief settled into something heavier.
“Brenda… she’s been feeding them everything?” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
Amelia sat on the edge of the couch, arms crossed tightly. “Yes, Ryan,” she said firmly, her tone clipped. “And you accused me of selling you out. Do you know how that felt?”
Ryan’s head snapped up, guilt clouding his eyes. “I was wrong,” he admitted, his voice faltering. “I was angry and desperate, and I let myself believe the worst.”
Amelia’s jaw clenched, her emotions teetering between frustration and vindication. “You didn’t even give me a chance to explain,” she said bitterly. “Instead, you stormed in here, accusing me of betrayal, when all I’ve done is try to protect this family.”
Ryan’s shoulders slumped as he set the papers down, his anger dissolving into something closer to regret. He crossed the room, his steps hesitant but deliberate, stopping just short of Amelia.
“I’m sorry, Amelia,” he said softly, his voice heavy with sincerity. “I’ve been an ass. I see that now. You’ve done more for me and the kids than I ever deserved.”
Amelia looked up at him, her eyes searching his. The vulnerability in his expression was disarming, and for a moment, the walls she’d built around herself cracked. “This isn’t about you, Ryan,” she said, her tone quieter now. “It’s about them. Everything I’ve done has been for the twins.”
“I know,” Ryan replied, his voice almost a whisper. He reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “But I still want to make things right. For them—and for us.”
Amelia’s breath hitched at the touch, the warmth of his hand stirring emotions she thought she’d buried. Before she could respond, Ryan’s phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table, shattering the fragile moment.
He picked it up, his expression darkening as he read the text.
Ryan’s jaw tightened as he turned the screen toward Amelia, showing her the message. “It’s Brenda,” he said, his voice tense.
Amelia stood, stepping back to create distance. “Of course, it is,” she said, her tone laced with resignation.
Ryan hesitated, torn between staying and leaving. “I don’t want to go,” he said earnestly. “But I—”
“You don’t have to explain,” Amelia interrupted, her voice firm but distant. “She’s your problem, Ryan. Not mine.”
He nodded slowly, slipping on his coat and heading for the door. “I’ll call you,” he said before disappearing into the night, leaving Amelia standing alone in the dimly lit room.
Ryan looked at the message again.
I’m in labor. I need you now.