Unexpectedly Expecting || BWWM

26 Weeks

I hesitated, glancing at her. "He is."

Her hands stilled as she placed a dish in the cabinet. "You like him?"

"I guess. Maybe," I muttered with a shrug. "I'm scared he'll leave again."

My mother turned to me fully, leaning against the counter with a small, almost mischievous smile. I frowned, confused by her expression.

"That boy isn't leaving you alone anytime soon," she said with a laugh that came from deep in her chest. "You better get ready for him to tell the whole world how he feels about you."

I raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "What? He's all about the kids. It has nothing to do with me. Being around him in such a... domestic setting is just making me think of him differently. I doubt it's doing the same for him."

Her laugh softened into a fond smile as she reached out, placing a hand on my arm. "Ivory, not every man is going to be like your father. Dean genuinely thought disappearing from your life would keep you safe. If his world wasn't a danger to you and those babies, he wouldn't have left in the first place."

I looked down, her words settling deep in my chest, stirring emotions I didn't want to name.

"And that boy," she continued, "is always over here to see you—whether it's for doctor appointments or to drop off gifts he claims are from his father but are clearly picked out by him. He likes you, Ivory. Wants to love you. His eyes turn a whole other shade when he looks at you."

I opened my mouth to argue, but she pressed on, her voice softer now. "You keep remembering that night you met him, don't you?"

I nodded reluctantly. "Bits and pieces. He was so charming, but after learning his reputation... it made it hard to trust him."

"If Dean wanted to keep being that man, he would've. Have you seen him? He could have whoever he wants."

I let out a startled laugh as she whispered the last part with a grin, her tone teasing.

"He is handsome," I admitted, giggling along with her. "Black hair and blue eyes—it's a good combination."

"And he's making an effort, Ivory. He's managed to make me forgive him in a month, and that's no small feat. Now, go tell him he can stay the night on the couch. He looks exhausted."

She shooed me toward the living room with a smile, and I couldn't help but laugh as I walked away.

When I reached the living room, I found Dean slumped on the couch with one of my mom's throw pillows in a loose grip. The TV was on, some old cartoon playing quietly in the background. His head rested against the back of the couch, his eyes low and tired, the tension I'd grown used to seeing in his posture now completely gone.

He looked... peaceful. Almost out of place in a way that made my chest ache.

I walked over and sat down beside him, and his eyes immediately found mine. Despite the fatigue written all over his face, his expression softened, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles.

"You can stay the night," I said, placing a hand on his arm. My voice came out softer than I'd intended. "You look really tired."

He tilted his head slightly, his smile widening just a bit. "I'm okay. I've got work tomorrow, so I should probably head home."

Dean shifted to stand, but I gently pushed him back down. His body sank into the couch, and he looked at me with quiet surprise, too drained to argue.

"You're not driving all the way back to your apartment like this," I said firmly. "The couch pulls out into a bed, and it's more than enough for one night."