Chapter 68 :

Chapter 68 :
\-ZOEY ASHFORD-

It had been exactly a week since the DNA test, and I’d been counting down every single day like it was some sort of emotional prison sentence. I’d thrown myself into work—writers’ events, book signings, interviews—anything that could keep my mind busy. I smiled for pictures, signed hundreds of copies, and laughed at jokes I barely heard.

But underneath it all, the only thing echoing in my head was that envelope that would decide who the father of my baby was.

Now, sitting in the living room with both Chase and Wes, I couldn’t pretend anymore. The silence between us was deafening. The TV was off, my phone screen dim, and even the clock ticking on the wall seemed to be holding its breath.

Chase sat at one end of the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like he could find answers there. Wes, on the other hand, lounged across from him, one leg crossed over the other, pretending to scroll through his phone but not really looking at anything.

I sat in the middle, pretending not to notice the tension but feeling it in every inch of my skin.

We were all waiting for Mariah to come from the hospital with the test results. The thought alone made my heart pound unevenly. I kept looking at both men—their faces, their silence, the difference between them.

And the thought hit me again: What if the baby ends up belonging to the man my heart still beats for even though I try to deny that fact?

The doorbell suddenly rang.

Wes jumped up before anyone else could move. “I got it,” he said, like he was doing something heroic.

Chase didn’t even look up. “It’s probably Mariah.”

But when Wes returned, he wasn’t holding an envelope—he was holding two tubs of ice cream and spoons.

“Ice cream?” I asked, trying to hide the way my eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” Wes said, grinning slightly as he handed one to me. “You said last week you’d been craving it. Thought I’d surprise you.”

I smiled, genuinely.

“Thanks, Wes. That’s actually really sweet of you.”

He winked.

“Just trying to score some good points with the mom-to-be.”

That was the wrong thing to say because Chase’s head snapped up immediately. His eyes narrowed.

“You bought ice cream for a pregnant woman?”

Wes frowned. “She’s fine, Chase. It’s just ice cream, not poison.”

Chase stood up abruptly and took the tub right out of my hands before I could even taste it.

“You shouldn’t be eating this right now.”

“Hey,” I said, surprised. “It’s just..”

“No,” he cut me off. “You’ve had enough sugar today, Chocolates, candies and all.. It’s not good for the baby.”

Wes scoffed, setting his spoon down.

“Man, you’re seriously overreacting.”

“I’m not,” Chase said sharply. “You just don’t think before you act. You do these things because you want to look like the good guy.”

Wes leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“Or maybe I actually care about her and I’m not obsessed with controlling every single thing she does.”

Chase glared.

“Caring doesn’t mean acting without thinking. You’re not the doctor here, Wes. You just want to play hero.”

I tried to step in, but neither of them was listening.

“Would you two stop?” I said, raising my voice slightly. “This isn’t the time”

But Wes was already standing.

“You know what your problem is, Chase? You hate that someone else might be doing better at this than you. That’s why you’re losing your mind over a spoon of ice cream.”

Chase took a step closer, his jaw tight.

“You think this is a competition? You think this is about you? This is about her..about the baby!”

“And yet,” Wes said with a bitter laugh, “you’re the one acting like it’s all about your ego. You can’t stand not being in control for five minutes, can you?”

“Keep talking, Wes,” Chase said coldly. “Maybe if you shout loud enough, it’ll make up for your lack of maturity.”

“Guys!” I said again, louder this time. “Enough!”

They both stopped, but only to glare at each other.

I took a shaky breath. “Please, can we just not do this right now? Mariah could walk in any minute with the results, and this..this isn’t helping anyone.”

Chase looked at me then, his face softening a little.

“Zoey, you shouldn’t be eating things that could cause complications,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”

I hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good,” he said firmly, turning and walking toward the kitchen.

We all watched as he opened the trash bin and dumped the ice cream inside. The sound of the lid closing was louder than it needed to be.

He came back and faced Wes.

“Next time you want to do something nice, maybe think it through first. It’s not about points, man. It’s about responsibility.”

Wes gave a bitter laugh. “Responsibility? That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Say what you want,” Chase replied. “But at least I’m not trying to use kindness to win a competition.”

“Oh, I’m not trying,” Wes shot back. “You already lost.”

“Both of you, stop!” I snapped. “I can’t do this right now.”

That shut them up—for a moment, at least.

The room went silent again. I could feel the heat radiating off both of them, the unspoken words, the tension thick enough to choke on.

I can't believe they are arguing at a time like this.. just because of an ice cream.

Wes did nothing wrong giving me an ice cream.. Chase did nothing wrong taking the ice cream away from me.

And he is also right, I shouldn't be consuming a lot of surgery things. It's unhealthy for the baby. Even if I want the ic cream so bad, I have to let it go... just this time.

And then the front door opened.

Mariah stepped inside, holding an envelope and her bag. She froze the moment she looked at us.

“Okay…” she said slowly. “What’s going on here? Why does the air feel like it’s about to explode?”

“Nothing,” I said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just… sit. I’ll explain later.”

She looked from me to the guys, both sitting stiffly on opposite ends of the couch, and then sighed before taking a seat beside me.

“Alright,” she said, glancing at the envelope. “I assume everyone’s ready for this?”

Wes leaned forward, arms crossed. Chase sat back but kept his eyes fixed on the envelope.

I swallowed hard. My hands were trembling slightly. “Yeah, Mariah,” I said softly. “Tell us what it says.”

She opened the envelope slowly. The sound of paper rustling made my pulse quicken.