by Piper Scott
“Are you experiencing any signs of morning sickness?”
“No.” Adrian grasped his knees, his fingertips pushed so tightly against his patellas that the pads of his fingers turned white. “I’ve been really healthy so far. I don’t feel pregnant at all.”
“That’s good. Sometimes you’ll notice changes between your first and second trimester. If you do start feeling ill more often, I wouldn’t worry too much about it unless the nausea becomes debilitating or overly severe. In your case, I think you might not have to worry.”
“I hope so.” Adrian released his knees and ran his fingers up his thighs. Sterling watched him trace along the denim, remembering how soft and pale his skin was beneath it. “There’s enough going on that being sick isn’t high on my priority list.”
“Unfortunately, priority lists tend to go out the window when your body is busy creating new life.” Dr. Harris, an older woman with rounded glasses and frizzy gray hair, smiled kindly at him. Then her gaze turned to Sterling. “Upon what date did his heat end?”
Sterling struggled to find a satisfactory answer. “He wasn’t in heat when he conceived, but we can trace the date back about eight weeks—on the third.”
Adrian squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t supposed to go into heat for another month.”
“Sometimes stress will do that.” Dr. Harris jotted a few quick notes on her patient file. As she wrote, she carried the conversation. “Speaking of stress, are you on any medications, or are there any other concerns that will complicate the pregnancy?”
A sour look twisted Adrian’s lips, and Sterling heard the snark in his voice before Adrian said anything at all. He imagined the answer Adrian wanted to give.
Well, the fact that I want nothing to do with it might complicate things.
But the response he gave was much more tame. “I was prescribed benzos four years ago to treat my panic disorder. I’ve never taken them.”
Dr. Harris’ lips twitched, then she clicked the cap of her pen a few times and looked at Adrian curiously. “Did you seek alternative treatment for your disorder?”
“…No.”
“Are you still struggling with the condition now?”
“I haven’t in the last two months.” The more Adrian spoke, the more uncomfortable he looked. “My last episode was probably a week or a week-and-a-half before I conceived.”
“Are you seeking psychiatric help?”
“No.” Adrian fidgeted in his chair. “I’m fine. It’s not all that bad. It doesn’t happen too often.”
“But the problem is that it does happen. The strain of pregnancy puts you at risk for relapse, and there have been studies to suggest that elevated levels of cortisol may have an effect on the development of the fetal brain.”
“So I won’t put myself in situations where I could get triggered. That’s all.” Adrian wouldn’t meet the doctor’s gaze. “Listen, can we just get on with it? Apart from the whole panic disorder thing, there isn’t anything to worry about. I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs, and I won’t be drinking anymore. I’ll watch the things I eat and I’ll take whatever vitamins you recommend I take. That’s kind of what this is about, isn’t it?”
There was the same catty aggression in Adrian’s voice that Sterling recognized from the club, but now that he was starting to connect the pieces of Adrian’s life, Sterling heard it for what it really was. Beneath the shell of standoffish behavior was vulnerability—a quiet kind of sadness that begged to be corrected. How could he get through to the Adrian that Adrian was hiding away from the world?
For a moment, Dr. Harris looked irritated, but that moment quickly passed. With a click of her pen, she met Sterling’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Mr. Holt, but would you mind taking the younger Mr. Lowe to stand out in the hall? The next portion of the checkup is confidential.”
Leaving Adrian alone with the doctor seemed like a bad idea, but nothing could be done about it. Sterling nodded, then looked to Gabriel. “Is that okay with you?”
“Yes.” Gabriel’s voice said no, but there was nothing Sterling could do to help him.
They stood, Gabriel scrambling to his feet and slinking toward Dr. Harris’ office door like a dog who knew he’d done wrong while Sterling followed him at a respectful distance. They stepped into the hall, and when the door closed behind them, Gabriel did something that shocked Sterling—he met his gaze.
“Adrian’s going to be okay, right?” Gabriel asked. “I mean… he’s not… he’s okay, right?”
“He’s going to be fine,” Sterling promised. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”
“Why did the doctor want to talk to him alone? It’s not because… he’s, um…” Gabriel crossed his arms a little too tightly over his chest and trailed off.
“Because he’s what?” Sterling asked.
Gabriel stared at his feet. “He’s not addicted to the benzos too, is he?”
The silence between them was vast to the point it almost felt unbridgeable. Sterling looked over Gabriel, trying to distill the meaning of what he’d said. The thought of addiction had never crossed his mind, but now that the topic had been brought up, Sterling wondered if that wasn’t the case. The irritability, the aggression, the toughened exterior…
But instead of allowing doubt to poison his mind, Sterling asked more questions in the hopes of clarification. “What do you mean by ‘too’?”
There was no way Gabriel could have looked more uncomfortable. He shuffled his weight from foot to foot and fiddled with the sleeve of his shirt. “Our mom is… she, uh… she kind of takes them more than she should, and she has for a long time.”
“For how long?”
“…I don’t know. I noticed it for the first time when I was thirteen, but it… it might have gone on longer. It didn’t stop when I went away.”
The scene came to life in Sterling’s head. An emotionally distant father, more concerned about how he came across to his relatives than the return of the lost boy on his doorstep. A mother lost to the demons of addiction. And amongst it all, two young men growing up in a world already shaped by forces that longed to oppress them. The Lowe family had money, but what difference did money make when a family was as broken as their own?
It was little wonder why Gabriel had run away.
“It got… bad… when I was gone.” Gabriel stopped plucking at the sleeve of his shirt so he could rub at his arm instead. “She’s a lot worse now. Sometimes it’s… sometimes Adrian lets me sleep in bed with him, because she’ll be up at night.”
“Are you in danger?” No matter Adrian’s own potential struggles with addiction, if there was a chance that either he or Gabriel were unsafe in their home, Sterling would not stand by silently. In Gabriel, quiet and lost and alone, he saw a young Clarissa. Big blue eyes shimmering with tears, tiny shoulders pinched to her neck…
“I don’t know.” Gabriel admitted. “I don’t think so. I think I’m just scared of everything all the time now.”
“Are you scared of me?”
“Yes.”
“More scared than you are of her?”
The answer didn’t come. Gabriel looked away. Sterling liked to think it was because he was uncertain, but he couldn’t tell for sure. Gabriel’s expressions were hard to read at best.
Sterling knew he couldn’t make things right, but he had to say his bit even if he was wasting his breath. “You have plenty of reasons to be afraid of me, and I understand if that’s the case, but I want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you or your brother. Never.”
“I know.” Gabriel’s voice was small.
“And if you ever need help, no matter how insignificant or stupid you think it is, all you have to do is let me know.”
“Thank you.” Gabriel wouldn’t meet Sterling’s eyes, but Sterling remarked a change in his posture that made him believe Gabriel hadn’t just heard his message, he’d understood it. “I think… I think Adrian is very lucky to have
you. You’re going to be a good father.”
“I hope so.”
“You will be.” Gabriel made a nervous wheezing sound. It took Sterling a long moment to realize it was an anxious attempt at a laugh. “You’re already doing a great job and the baby isn’t even here yet. You’re… you’re going to be okay.”
“Thank you.”
The door to the examination room opened. Adrian, looking a little miffed, stepped out. “We’ve got to move to another room to do the ultrasound and the blood work. It’s going to mean more waiting.”
Gabriel immediately fell into place beside Adrian, and Sterling looked over the two carefully. The Lowe brothers were two sides of the same coin—one given in to his suffering and made weak by it, the other hardened by years of neglect. Sterling’s gut told him that Adrian wasn’t self-medicating to escape. If he was, he would have already known about it. It was rare that addiction was kept a secret for long amongst regular club-goers. For now, he’d trust Adrian.
It was all he could do.
“More waiting is fine. I have all morning.” Sterling glanced back toward the general waiting room. “Should we go sit?”
“Unless you have an ultrasound machine at home.”
That mouth. Sterling held back a grin. “I don’t.”
“Then sitting and waiting it is.” Adrian steered Gabriel down the hall and toward the waiting room, unafraid to lead the way. “Just what, seven more months of doctor appointments and endless waiting? That won’t get boring at all. Can you remind me why we’re doing this again?”
“Because you’re a good father, Adrian,” Sterling said softly from behind his shoulder. He followed Adrian down the hall. “That’s why.”
The look in Adrian’s eyes as he glanced over his shoulder at Sterling was surprised and gently disbelieving all at once, and it made Sterling’s heart skip a beat.
No matter how long it took, and no matter what it took to do it, Sterling would earn his trust. He saw the potential in Adrian, and he wanted to develop it in full. Adrian would make a great father if he only believed in himself—and the look in his eyes told Sterling that he was reluctantly starting to get the message.
Another chance, another shot at being a family, and another fresh start—it was all that Sterling never knew he needed, but now wanted more than anything else.
15
Adrian
Adrian still wasn’t showing. As he laid in bed, phone suspended precariously in one hand over his head as he scrolled through his news feed, he stroked his belly and tried to feel the change. He hadn’t read much about pregnancy, and he hadn’t envisioned himself ever being a father, but he’d been sure he’d feel different if it ever happened.
More alive. More sick. More bloated.
More something.
But all he felt was more confused.
The blood work Dr. Harris had done confirmed that he’d conceived. The tiny speck she’d discovered in his ultrasound was allegedly proof of the fetus his body harbored.
So why didn’t he feel like a father yet?
Adrian traced his hand back and forth, exploring the area from the base of his dick all the way to his chest. Apart from a modest roundness that he honestly would pass off as water retention or bloating from overeating, he didn’t feel any bigger. At three months, wasn’t he supposed to feel something? He was one-third of the way through his journey, after all.
So far, it hadn’t been much of a journey at all.
He’d been to see the doctor a month ago. Since then, he’d been taking his vitamins as regularly as possible, but apart from that, there’d been no real change in his life. Dr. Harris had told him that sex was encouraged during pregnancy—that if he kept partnering with Sterling, his body would benefit from the boost it would receive from alpha hormones.
Or whatever.
If Adrian was honest, he didn’t actually understand what she’d been spouting off about. It felt either too staunchly traditional, or way too new-agey, and he couldn’t figure out which. When it came down to it, his body didn’t need an alpha.
But Adrian knew firsthand that needing and wanting were two separate things.
As his mind turned the thought over, he opened his text message history with Sterling and scrolled through their sparse texts. After Adrian had gone to visit Sterling the night he’d learned he was pregnant, he’d barely been back. Sterling had tried to engage Adrian in conversation several times since then, but Adrian hadn’t felt much like talking.
He knew what Sterling wanted, and Adrian wasn’t ready to give it to him.
For the last four years, he’d had plenty of sexual partners, but he’d stayed single for a reason. People like him didn’t deserve to be happy. Adrian never denied himself momentary indulgence—especially when those indulgences allowed him to get out some of the frustration and guilt he harbored deep inside—but anything more than that was strictly off the table.
But Sterling wanted to be a family.
Adrian’s hand wandered back over his belly, stroking the tiny bump he found there. What would it be like, to belong to Sterling? To wake up every morning by Sterling’s side as the sun shone through the bedroom window and lit Sterling’s hair up like gold? Was Sterling the kind of man who’d slip into the shower with him every morning before work and wrap his arms around him from behind, only to kiss the crook of his neck until they were both so riled that they went back to bed?
Adrian reached the end of their conversation history. The last message was from Sterling, timestamped the night before.
Hey. Are you having a good night?
There was no reply.
Adrian turned off the screen and set the phone on his chest. As he did, he closed his eyes and exhaled until he couldn’t anymore. What the hell was he going to do? Gabriel needed him a hell of a lot more than Sterling did, but Adrian couldn’t make the little voice in his head that urged him to go to Sterling shut up. It nagged at him, begging him to reconsider.
Why wouldn’t he want to be with Sterling, anyway? Sterling was kind, and successful, and handsome. Sterling had already proved that he was invested in Adrian and their child, and that he was willing to provide. And the sex…
Adrian blushed.
The sex was pretty wonderful. Sterling’s knot felt good, and the way he knew how to work his mouth?
“You’re doing this on purpose.” Adrian groaned. He clawed at his eyes, then dropped his arms to either side and tried to do away with thoughts of what could be. No matter what he wanted, he had to be there for Gabriel. What Sterling wanted didn’t matter—nothing could happen between them.
Adrian had already been selfish, and his selfishness had led to Gabriel’s disappearance. Now that Gabriel was back, Adrian refused to make the same mistake again.
A cry from the hallway pulled Adrian from his thoughts.
“—at are you…? Ah!”
Adrian sat bolt upright. His phone toppled from his chest and landed amongst the sheets. The voice he’d heard in the distance—the muffled sounds of distress—had come from Gabriel.
He was on his feet and down the hall before he had time to be afraid.
It wasn’t hard to find the source of the commotion. A little farther down the hall, Gabriel cowered against the closed door to his room while their mother crowded his space. Adrian didn’t get the feeling that she’d been particularly aggressive yet, but seeing her encroach on Gabriel didn’t sit well with him. Adrian knew all too well what she was capable of when she was in one of her moods.
“Mom?” Gabriel asked, deflated. “Mom, please…”
“Where are you?” She reached out and cupped a hand under his jaw, tugging Gabriel’s chin upward with a little too much force. Even on the move, Adrian saw him wince.
The world went red.
No one was going to touch Gabriel like that.
No one.
“Where are you, Gabriel? Where?” Her voice rose in volume until she was screeching. Adrian barely heard it—the rushing of
his heart and the pounding of his footsteps drowned out most other sounds. “You’re not here. This isn’t you. Who are you? What are you?”
There was only fear in Gabriel’s eyes—glassy, panicked fear that froze his body and stole his words. Adrian knew how to escape his mother’s temper, but Gabriel? Gabriel had been away for too long. He didn’t know when to run and hide, and even if he tried to learn, Adrian had a feeling that after everything that had happened, his knees would lock and his body would shut down before he could get away.
It wasn’t safe for him here.
Adrian didn’t care about what happened to him, but Gabriel? He refused to see him hurt.
“Mom!” Adrian’s voice rang through the hall, broken only by the stilted way he drew breath. “Stop!”
His mother’s hand fell from Gabriel’s chin, and she turned her head to look in his direction. Her irises were gone, the blue-gray nothing more than slender rings around too-wide dark pupils.
Adrian knew better than to touch her. He’d learned over the years that the best course of action was to give her as much space as he could in the hopes that he didn’t trigger her to act in violent ways. Most of the time, the benzos made her sleepy and docile, but when the opposite happened, Adrian had learned all he could do was hide and wait for her anger to run its course.
But that wasn’t an option anymore. Not with Gabriel home.
He had no choice but to grab her by the shoulder and spin her around. Gabriel would not suffer for Adrian’s shortcomings. He wouldn’t allow it.
“Gabriel?” She squinted, and he watched as her face contorted with confusion. “You’re not…”
“I’m not Gabriel.” Adrian spoke sternly, commanding respect. He tugged her away from the door, hoping that she’d be too distracted by him to remember Gabriel was behind her. “My name is Adrian, Mom. Adrian. Your firstborn son.”
“You took him from me.” The accusation was venomous. She narrowed her eyes into hateful slits and grabbed Adrian’s shirt. Her fists gripped him tight. “You made him leave, and then when he came back, he was different. You stole him.”