Chapter 66:

Chapter 66:
\-WES MARTINS-

I sat at the mini bar in my living room, the clock ticking past midnight. The place was quiet.. too quiet. Except for the soft clink of ice cubes as I swirled my whiskey.

The amber liquid caught the dim light, and I stared at it for too long, thinking about what I’d done earlier that day.

The DNA test.

It had felt like the right thing at the time.. no, it was the right thing. I just wanted to know where I belonged.

I couldn’t keep watching Zoey from a distance, half-hoping, half-wondering if the child she carried was mine. The uncertainty was eating me alive, and every time I saw Chase hovering around her, pretending he was the good guy, pretending he cared more than I did, it pushed me closer to this decision.

I feel jealous.. I really do feel jealous whenever I see him with her.

it's normal to get jealous, right? Especially when you sometimes feel like the outsider, or your love and care is not genuinely being reciprocated.

I leaned back, took a long sip, and exhaled.

I wasn’t proud of how I handled it. Calling everyone together like it was a board meeting. But Zoey didn’t seem angry.

Just… quiet. That quiet always kills me.

The phone vibrated on the counter beside me, cutting through my thoughts.

Chase flashed on the screen.

I smirked to myself. “Speak of the devil.”

I let it ring out.

I had a feeling he was going to call. Typical Chase not to call and try to speak sermons.

It feels so good seeing that he's the most affected. I like it when I place him in the most difficult situation.

Thirty seconds later, it rang again.

Then again.

By the third call, I was laughing under my breath.

Persistent bastard.

When the fourth call came in, I picked up, bringing the phone to my ear but saying nothing.

“Wes,” Chase’s voice came through. Sharp, controlled, but I could hear the irritation underneath.

“Took you long enough,” I drawled, finally responding. “You must’ve really needed to talk if you called four times.”

He ignored the jab. “Why did you do it?”

I swirled the drink in my glass, letting the silence stretch before answering.

“Do what?”

Now I'd love to play mind games with him. This is the perfect evening show to brighten up my day.

“The test,” he snapped. “You could’ve waited. You didn’t have to push for it now.”

I chuckled.

“Didn’t have to? That’s cute. You talk like you get to decide when I should know the truth.”

“This isn’t about control, Wes.”

“Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve been trying to control every damn thing since Zoey got pregnant,” I said, letting the amusement fade from my voice. “You drop by her place uninvited, play the quiet, concerned man. You want to look like you’ve got it all together. But deep down, you’re terrified.”

He was quiet for a second. I could almost hear him grinding his teeth.

“You think this is a joke?”

“No,” I said calmly. “It’s not a joke. It’s reality. One you clearly can’t handle.”

“I’m not afraid of the truth,” he said tightly.

“Then why call me?” I countered, leaning forward. “You’ve called me four times in the last ten minutes, Chase. That doesn’t sound like a man who’s calm. That sounds like someone who’s sweating bullets.”

“Stop twisting this, Wes,” he muttered.

“Twisting what?” I asked, smirking. “I’m just asking questions.”

“You’re pushing Zoey into this,” he shot back. “She doesn’t need this stress right now. She’s already dealing with enough, and you..”

I cut him off. “Don’t talk about what Zoey needs like you know her better than I do.”

“I do know her,” he said. “Probably more than you think.”

That one made me laugh. A low, humorless laugh. “Yeah? Then you should’ve fought harder when you had the chance. But you didn’t. You walked away, and now you’re trying to crawl back into her life under the excuse of ‘wanting to help.’ You can’t stand that someone else might’ve taken your place.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered. “You’re turning this into a competition.”

“It already is,” I said flatly. “And you know what? I’m done guessing. That’s why I called for the test. I’m not waiting nine months to figure out if I belong in her life or not.”

“You really think a piece of paper is going to decide that?”

I smirked, downing the rest of my drink. “It’ll decide enough.”

Chase didn’t reply right away. I could hear the faint sound of his breathing through the phone.. steady but heavy, like he was trying not to explode. Finally, he said, “You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing it for your ego.”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But at least I’m honest about it.”

He scoffed. “You’re pathetic, Wes.”

“Yeah?” I set my glass down and leaned back. “Maybe. But you’re scared — and that’s worse.”

The line went silent. I could imagine his jaw tightening, his hand probably gripping the steering wheel or whatever he was doing.

“This call was a mistake,” he said finally, voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” I said with a small laugh, “it was. But thanks for confirming what I already knew.”

“What’s that?” he asked, irritation creeping into his tone.

“That I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about her.”

He let out a breath, then hung up.

I stared at the phone for a moment, the smirk still on my face even though my chest felt heavier than before. I poured another drink and raised the glass slightly, as if toasting to the empty room.

“Get ready to back down, Chase,” I murmured under my breath, taking another slow sip. “Because when those results come out, this ends on my terms.”

I said with so much confidence. Of course I know things will turn out my way. Whatever I'm so sure of, always works out my way.

I pushed the thought away and swallowed hard, drowning it in another sip of whiskey.

\-ZOEY ASHFORD-

The following morning.

I didn’t sleep a single minute. I just kept staring at the ceiling all night, listening to the faint hum of the fan and the pounding of my own heart. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was scared of.. maybe the truth itself.

When morning finally came, I dragged myself to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, and tried to look composed. Standing in front of the mirror, I placed my hand on my stomach. My voice came out in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry things have to be this way. And I’m sorry for being careless… for letting things get this complicated.”

My reflection looked tired, pale. I forced a small smile and rubbed my stomach gently.

“But no matter what happens, no matter who your father is, I’ll love you. That’s a promise. You’re mine before anyone else’s.”

A soft smile crept on my face as a tiny piece of imagination began to form on my face. I began to imagine what my baby looks like.

A boy or a girl, I really don't care. I just know that I'm going to have an amazing little baby who would be running around the house and calling me..

"Mummy!" I voiced that out and chuckled at my own silliness.

I feel so elated just thinking about it. I'll try my best to become the best Mom and raise my child in a way my parents didn't raise me.

I won't neglect my child.. For work or for anything else.

That's a promise.

I took one last look at myself before stepping out of the room. Mariah was already waiting in the living room, holding her bag and sipping from a cup.

“You look nervous,” she said, tilting her head.

“I am,” I admitted. “But I’ll survive.”

“Are you ready to leave?” she asked.

I nodded silently.

We got into a taxi and rode to the hospital. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable; it was heavy, filled with the kind of quiet that carries thoughts no one wants to say out loud.

When we arrived, I spotted Chase almost immediately. He looked tired too, like he hadn’t slept either.

He gave me a brief nod, and I returned it without saying anything. I didn’t trust my voice not to tremble.

Mariah leaned close and whispered, “You okay?”

“Just… ready for this to be over,” I said softly.

Fifteen minutes later, Wes finally showed up, looking slightly rushed. He apologized, saying something about a sudden issue at the office. I wasn’t sure if I believed him, but I didn’t question it. My heart was already racing too fast to focus on anything else.

The doctor came out holding a clipboard, smiling politely. “Are we all ready?” she asked.

I nodded. Chase stayed quiet, his hands tucked into his pockets, while Wes was the only one who answered,

“Yes, we are.”

Mariah, now in her work mode, gestured for us to follow. “Let’s go then,” she said.

We walked down the hallway, none of us saying a word. The air felt thick — heavy with uncertainty, with fear, with something none of us could name.

As we stepped into the test room, I took a slow breath and whispered to myself,

“Whatever happens next, I’ll handle it.”