Chapter 241

Chapter 241
Emily's POV

The paper crinkled between my fingers. I stared at the numbers on the test results—hCG levels, gestational estimate, all those clinical terms that might as well have been written in another language.

Pregnant.

Six to eight weeks.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Emily..." Lydia's voice came from somewhere far away. "Emily, you need to tell me something."

I couldn't look at her. If I looked at her, I'd have to say it out loud. Make it real.

"Emily, look at me."

She crouched in front of my chair, forcing herself into my line of sight. Her face was pale. Scared.

"You need to be honest," she said quietly. "That baby. It's Stefan's, right?"

My head snapped up. "What? Of course it's—how could you even—"

"Because you told me what Harrison said." Her voice cracked. "That Stefan's chances were practically zero. That even with treatment, the odds were..." She cut herself off. Swallowed hard. "So either Harrison was wrong, or the treatment worked way better than anyone expected, or..."

She didn't finish.

Or I cheated.

"I didn't." The words tumbled out too fast. "I would never. There's no one else. There's only ever been—"

"Then how?" Lydia's eyes were too bright. Like she was about to cry. "How are you pregnant?"

"I don't know."

God, I don't know.

My hands moved to my stomach—flat, unchanged, giving nothing away. Something was growing in there. Something impossible.

Stefan's baby.

It had to be Stefan's.

But that report I'd seen in his medical file—the one I wasn't supposed to see—those numbers had been clear. Sperm count almost nonexistent. Motility severely impaired. The doctor's notes had used words like "functionally sterile" and "conception highly unlikely without intervention."

"Maybe the diagnosis was wrong," I heard myself say. "Or maybe Harrison didn't want to get our hopes up, so he downplayed the results, or—"

"Em." Lydia sat back on her heels. "Medical tests don't just 'downplay' results. These are exact measurements."

Unless Harrison lied.

The thought came sharp and cold.

Why would he lie? To protect Stefan? To spare him the emotional blow?

But I'd seen that report myself. The one Stefan had deliberately left where I could find it. Or had he? Had that been intentional too—a way to prepare me for this conversation?

My brain felt like it was splitting in two.

"I believe you," Lydia said suddenly. "Okay? I believe that you didn't... that there's no one else."

"Thank you." My throat was so tight the words barely came out.

"But we need to figure out what's going on because—" She glanced at the door, then back at me. Lowered her voice. "Because Stefan is going to ask the same question I just did. And you need to have an answer."

Oh god.

Stefan.

How do I tell him? How do I explain something I don't understand myself?

I pressed my palms against my thighs, trying to stop the trembling. My heart was beating so fast I could feel it in my throat.

"Maybe..." I started, then stopped. Started again. "Maybe I should talk to Harrison first. Before I tell Stefan anything."

Lydia nodded slowly. "That makes sense. Get the facts straight."

Facts. Right. Like there were any facts that made sense here.

I stood up too quickly. The room tilted. Lydia grabbed my elbow.

"Whoa. Easy."

"I'm fine." I wasn't fine. Nothing about this was fine.

"When did you last eat?"

I couldn't remember. This morning? Yesterday? Time felt weird and slippery.

"Come on." Lydia steered me toward the door. "Let's get you some water at least. And then we'll figure out—"

She stopped mid-sentence.

I looked up.

Stefan was standing in the hallway outside the consultation room.

My entire body went rigid.

How long had he been there? Had he heard anything?

"There you are." He walked toward us, and I couldn't read his expression at all. "I've been looking everywhere."

"Stefan." My voice came out too high. Too breathless. "What are you doing here?"

"You've been gone for hours." His eyes swept over me—assessing, concerned. "I got worried."

"I texted you. I said I was with Lydia."

"I know. But that was three hours ago, and you weren't answering your phone."

I fumbled for my phone. The screen was black. Dead battery.

"Sorry," I managed. "I didn't realize—"

"It's fine." But his jaw was tight. His hand found the small of my back—protective, possessive. "Are you okay? You look pale."

"She's exhausted," Lydia jumped in. "We've been running around all day, and I made her skip lunch like an idiot."

Stefan's eyes narrowed. "You need to eat."

"I'm fine—"

"Emily." His voice went soft. Dangerous. "Don't argue with me right now."

I swallowed hard. Nodded.

"Good." He looked at Lydia. "Thank you for looking after her."

"Of course." Lydia's smile was too bright. Too forced. "That's what friends are for."

Stefan's hand slid from my back to my waist, drawing me closer. "Let's go home."

Home. Oak Manor. Where I'd have to face him. Have to decide what to tell him.

My stomach twisted.

"Actually," I said quickly, "I'm starving. Can we stop somewhere? Get something to eat?"

Stefan studied my face for a long moment. Then nodded. "Whatever you want."

We said goodbye to Lydia in the hospital lobby. She hugged me tight—tighter than usual—and whispered in my ear: "Call me later. Okay?"

I nodded against her shoulder.

Then Stefan was guiding me toward the exit, his hand never leaving my waist. We stepped outside into the late afternoon sun. His car was parked illegally right in front of the main entrance, hazard lights blinking.

Of course it was.

He opened the passenger door for me. I slid in, clutching the folder of test results against my chest.

Stefan noticed. His eyes dropped to the manila envelope.

"What's that?"

"Just... paperwork. From the checkup."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. Totally fine."

I was lying. I was lying to Stefan, and my heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.

He closed my door. Walked around to the driver's side. Got in.

Started the engine.

We pulled away from the hospital in silence.

I stared out the window, watching Oak City slide past. My reflection in the glass looked like a stranger—pale, wide-eyed, terrified.

Pregnant.

I was pregnant with Stefan's baby.

Stefan's impossible baby.

And I had absolutely no idea how to tell him.