Chapter 119: Life Within Me
Isabella's POV
"Isabella... why didn't you tell me you were sick? Why wouldn't you let me see you? What am I to you in your life?"
Oliver's voice cracked with raw emotion as he stood at my bedside, his hands shaking like leaves in a storm.
I opened my mouth to respond when a flicker of movement caught my eye—someone peeking through the half-open door. Luna. Her gray-green eyes went wide when our gazes locked, her cheeks flushing with that "busted" look of someone caught eavesdropping on a super personal moment.
"You might as well come in," I called out, secretly relieved for the distraction. "Both of you."
Luna pushed the door open sheepishly, with Gabriel right behind her. Perfect timing. Oliver straightened up fast, swiping at his eyes like he was brushing off invisible dust.
"I wasn't crying," he declared to the room, his voice dropping a couple octaves deeper than normal, all macho and defensive. "If that's what you're thinking."
Gabriel smirked, crossing his arms like he owned the place. "Next time, cry a little louder, yeah? Couldn't quite make it out from the hallway."
Oliver shot him a death glare. "Fuck off."
I couldn't help but crack a smile at their banter. These two had been at each other's throats since college, but deep down, I knew Gabriel was the only guy Oliver truly trusted—besides me, anyway.
"Gentlemen," I said, putting some boss-lady edge in my tone, "mind giving Luna and me a minute alone? Girl talk."
Gabriel nodded, clapping a hand on Oliver's shoulder. "C'mon, Devon. Let's grab some coffee and pretend you weren't just having a total meltdown."
"I wasn't—" Oliver started protesting, but Gabriel was already hauling him out the door.
Once they were gone, I turned to Luna. She looked wiped out, with dark circles under her eyes that screamed sleepless nights.
"Come closer," I said, patting the edge of the bed. "I don't bite. Unless you're Oliver, of course."
She gave a weak smile at my lame joke and sat down. I reached under my pillow, pulling out a small clear plastic bag.
Luna's eyes bugged out as she stared at the pregnancy test inside. "You're... you're pregnant?"
I nodded, and just like that, tears welled up in my eyes—I couldn't hold them back.
"Is it..." She paused, clearly trying to tread lightly. "Is Oliver the father?"
"Yeah," I whispered, finally saying it out loud. "It happened the night of Luke's welcome party. We were both hammered, and..." I trailed off, the memory hitting me like a punch. "It was stupid. With all the chaos from the fashion show prep, I just... spaced on taking care of things afterward."
Luna reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What are you gonna do? Oliver's bound to find out eventually, especially with you stuck in here."
I shook my head. "The hospital thing's just a cover. I told everyone it's appendicitis to explain the stomach pain. The doc's a friend—she's keeping my secret for now."
"But Oliver..." Luna started.
"I know," I sighed. "It's all kinds of messed up. We're not even supposed to be together. He's my nephew, for crying out loud—at least on paper."
I could see Luna processing it, but her face stayed open, no judgment in sight. Most people would freak, but she just listened.
"I'm such an idiot," I muttered, staring up at the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling. "How could I screw up something so basic? I'm not some clueless teen who doesn't know about birth control."
"What are you planning to do?" Luna asked softly, her voice steady and kind. "About the baby?"
I placed a hand protectively over my still-flat stomach. "I'm keeping it. I'm turning thirty soon. My whole life's been about jumping through everyone else's hoops. This time... I'm calling the shots."
Luna squeezed my hand tighter. "Whatever you decide, I'm here for you."
Gratitude washed over me like a warm wave. "Thank God for you. I don't have anyone else I can really talk to about this crap."
The truth was, I'd never had a ton of close girlfriends. Getting adopted into the Devon family had left me in this weird limbo—not quite family, not quite outsider. Everyone always watching, judging, waiting for me to slip up.
Luna was right, of course. I'd spent too long stuck in the shadows of my past.
"Oliver comes off all carefree, but we're both trapped," I admitted. "By the family expectations, the Devon name, what people would say if they knew. And now with this baby..." I gestured vaguely, feeling helpless.
"Have you thought about the logistics? You gonna tell him?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. I've got a plan. I can use Ethereal's European expansion as an excuse to head over there for a few months. Have the baby on the down-low, then figure out what comes next."
I looked at her intently. "Could you and Gabriel help cover for me? Keep this under wraps until I'm ready?"
"Of course," Luna said without missing a beat. "I should go track down Gabriel now. We'll let you rest."
After Luna left to find Gabriel, I closed my eyes. Being the Devon family's adopted daughter had never been easy—everyone watching, judging, waiting for me to fail. And then there was Shane Devon, Oliver's dad. The memory still made my stomach churn. On Oliver's eighteenth birthday party, I'd had way too much to drink, and Shane tried to... God, if I hadn't fought my way out...
I heard the door creak open again and knew without looking who it was.
"Go away, Oliver," I said, eyes still shut. "I need to rest."
"I'm heading to London tomorrow," he replied, totally ignoring me as he plopped into the chair by my bed.
Despite myself, I felt my walls cracking. "Fine. Do whatever. Just don't bug me."
I could practically hear his smug grin. "I'll just sit here. You won't even know I'm around."
He went quiet after that, and I peeked one eye open. Oliver was staring at me, his blue eyes—so like his father's, but worlds apart in every way that mattered—brimming with worry. He reached over to pour me some water, then leaned back, settling in.
In the dim hospital room, with just the soft beep of machines and muffled hallway chatter drifting in, I could almost pretend we were normal. Not aunt and nephew, not secret lovers with a decade of messy history—just two people who actually loved each other.
"Isabella," he whispered, barely audible, "I'll protect you. No matter what."
I didn't answer, but in the shadows, I let myself smile a little, my hand resting gently on my stomach where our baby was growing.