Blurred Lines: A Reverse Harem, Dad's Best Friends Romance (The Why Choose Haremland)

29. Emily

Six weeks later

Forty-one nights ago, I fell asleep crying to two texts on my phone, one from Caeleb and the other from Finn. Both vastly different, one matter-of-fact to the point of being cold, the other almost devastating. Both were hurtful, and I deserved the pain they brought me.

Being back in New York has brought a lot into perspective. I have religiously avoided my mother, but I will be visiting her this evening, after I get out of the ultrasound techs office. I sigh and look around me as I attempt to steady myself. I had a fresh bout of nausea this morning, and a blood test has already confirmed what I hadnt dared to hope.

The ultrasound techs office feels inviting, a welcome change from the often clinical settings Im used to. Sunlight filters through leafy potted plants, casting dappled shadows on the pale walls. The receptionist smiles warmly as I check in, her voice a soothing counterpoint to the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

Across the room, a young family radiates warmth. The woman, visibly pregnant, her belly a perfect dome beneath a floral sundress, explains something with animated gestures to a giggling toddler. The dad, tall and broad-shouldered, watches them both with a love so fierce it fills the entire space.

A pang of longing, sharp and unexpected, pierces me. I squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the picture away. I have to keep reminding myself that Im the cause of my own isolation.

The memories of Finn, Silas, and Caeleb are so raw it feels like I ran from Emberton yesterday. Floras been calling to give me updates. I havent had the courage to ask her about them, and she doesnt probe, knowing Im not ready to hear anything. I almost gave in last night and asked her if Caeleb was seeing someone. But Im not one to dictate their lives or even wish for things to be different when I left the way Taylor Swifts boyfriends do, going by her songs.

I sigh once more. Yes, I could have waited for them to understand. But understanding wouldnt change the reality. Not yet, anyway. Fear, cold and sharp, twists within me. Would they accept a child with an unknown father? Would they be able to love my baby, not as their own, but as a piece of me? Or would they see it as a burden, a constant reminder of the secret shame I carry?

The memory of my own father, his sporadic appearances and indifferent demeanor, sends a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me. I dont want an absentee parent for my baby, someone who strolls in when its all sunny days and disappears when the slight hint of a storm breaks loose. Plus, whos to say theyd even want to be around? They wouldnt know who the real father is, and Im not interested in finding out.

The technician calls my name, her cheery voice breaking through the storm raging inside me. I potter inside the exam room with unsteady feet. As I lie down on the table, I focus on the coolness of the gel on my stomach. Then, the technician begins moving the transducer across the expanse of my belly. The screen flickers to life, an alien landscape of grays and blacks.

A flicker. A tiny blip, a rhythmic pulse. The technician points it out with a smile. Theres your babys heartbeat, Emily. Sounds strong and healthy.

Tears well up in my eyes, hot and unexpected. The sound isnt just a blip on a screen anymore. It echoes deep within me, a steady rhythm like the distant rumble of a train at night, the rhythm of the ocean against the shore. This is my child, a living, breathing part of me. And in that moment, I love it fiercely, unconditionally.

The weight of my decision settles on me, heavier than before. Could I really raise a child alone? In a city far away from the familiar comfort of Emberton, from the love Id grown so used to?

A wave of defiance washes over me. I wouldnt let fear dictate my future. I would create a safe haven for my child, a world filled with love and security, even if it was just the two of us.

I cant stay here, I whisper to the technician, my voice thick with emotion. I need to go somewhere else.

She gives me a concerned look. Everything alright, Emily? Do you have someone to pick you up?

Shame floods my cheeks. What a place to be making a blubbering mess of myself. I … Im going to my moms.

Good. She smiles encouragingly. Well, you take care of yourself, Emily. And congratulations!

I mumble a thank you, the weight of the word heavy on my tongue. I step outside the exam room, still in the office, and note that its raining. I walk over to a window to catch a glimpse of New York. Raindrops chase each other down windowpanes of expansive shopfronts, distorting the world into a shimmering blur. The wind whistles through bare branches, their silhouettes stark against the steely grey sky. Puddles dance with ripples, reflecting the hurried pace of city life distorted in their silvery depths.

Inside the office, warmth and quiet offer a respite from the blustery day. The scent of sterilizer mingles with a hint of cinnamon from the bakery next door, and the low hum of the ultrasound machine provides a calming soundtrack to my jumbled emotions.

The young family who were here moments ago have moved on, leaving behind only the lingering warmth of their joy. My fingers trace the outline of the sonogram image tucked in my bag, the grainy evidence of a new life taking root within me. Memories of Finn, Silas, and Caeleb sweep through me in a flurry of conflicting emotions. Guilt. Sadness. A stubborn flicker of hope that maybe one day things can be different. The rain outside intensifies, drumming against the glass like persistent tears. I take a deep breath, trying to find a calm center in the storm.

I recall the heartbeat once more. Tears well up, a mixture of fear and a love so fierce it nearly overwhelms me. I need some tethering, even though my moms wont be the best place to get it. I step outside the office and take a deep breath before hailing a cab. After an hour, it screeches to a halt in front of her building, the faded brick facade as old and familiar as ever. I count to three, pay the fare, and step out, the familiar scent of takeout food and exhaust fumes assaulting my senses.

My hand trembles as I reach for the doorbell. Climbing the familiar stairs floods me with memories Id rather keep buried. Its a strange mix of comfort and a creeping dread, knowing that just beyond the chipped paint and peeling wallpaper awaits a confrontation I cant postpone any longer.

Moms face when she opens the door is a whirlwind of emotions—shock, a flicker of worry, and then that familiar warmth that settles like a balm on my frayed spirit. Emily! Oh, sweetheart, is everything okay?

Her embrace is almost suffocating, the scent of jasmine and old perfume clinging to her. I fight the urge to melt into her, to become a child again. I … I need to talk to you, Mom.

She ushers me inside, setting a steaming mug of tea on the coffee table worn smooth by time. Settling into the floral armchair thats always felt a size too big for me, I meet her worried gaze.

Why didnt you say anything? Why havent you visited in so long? Her voice is laced with hurt, a gentle reminder of the months Ive spent running from the truth.

Im so sorry, Mom. I … Im pregnant. The words burst out of me, a dam finally breaking. Shock replaces the worry on her face. Its mirrored in the way my fingers clench around the mug, burning heat seeping through the ceramic.

She sits beside me, her hand cautiously covering mine. Is everything alright? Are you and the baby healthy?

The tears Ive been holding back spill over. Yes, the babys fine. Its me … I dont know how to do this alone. I dont want to talk about who the father is, but hes not— My voice breaks, replaced by a ragged sob.

To my surprise, she doesnt probe. Instead, her thumb traces soothing circles over my knuckles. Is he involved, sweetheart?

I shake my head, fresh tears blurring my vision. No. And I dont want him to be. I dont want my baby to have a father who might leave, disappear. I choke on the words, the familiar sting of abandonment welling up in my throat.

Oh, Emily. She pulls me into another hug, this one softer, gentler. Why do you think that would happen?

Because, I whisper into her shoulder, thats what Dad did.

The silence that follows echoes with unspoken pain. Dad hurt Flora and me, but he destroyed my mother. I knew it then, I knew how it impacted her ability to raise us. I dont want that to happen with me.

Mom pulls back slightly, her eyes filled with a sadness that cuts through me. Darling, I know Harvey wasnt always the best father. But that doesnt mean all men are the same. She pauses, as if choosing her words carefully. Your father had a difficult childhood. He grew up with … her voice trails off, a flicker of uncertainty crossing her face.

With what, Mom? I ask, a strange sense of foreboding settling over me.

She takes a deep breath. With a father a lot like himself. Distant. Absent. Harvey didnt know how to be anything else. He married me young, desperate to escape a home that never felt like one. We had you children too soon, when neither of us was prepared for the responsibility of a child, let alone our own lives.

I stare at her, my mind reeling. So, what? Youre saying Dad was a bad father because he didnt have a good role model?

A flicker of frustration crosses her face. No, Emily, thats not what Im saying. Theres no excuse for his behavior. But understanding where he came from, the demons he carried with him … it helps to see why he acted the way he did.

But that doesnt change anything, I whisper, the argument weak even to my own ears.

It might change how you see the world, she replies softly. Honey, you cant judge every man by the flawed measure of your father. Her voice holds a pleading note, a desperate hope that I can find a way to let go of the anger and fear thats shaped my life.

But what if I make the same mistake? My voice cracks with self-doubt. What if I pick someone who will abandon my baby just like Dad abandoned me?

Her hand squeezes mine with surprising strength. Emily, you are not your father. You are strong, intelligent, and capable of so much love. And you will choose wisely, with your eyes and your heart wide open.

Her words echo in me. Shes right, I realize. Dad was doomed from the start. He didnt try to be different, but thats not … thats not how Caeleb, Finn, or Silas are.

Ive been so, so stupid. I modeled my concept of fatherhood on my dad and threw it over their shoulders, without bothering to consider how different they are.

Mom, I say, voice trembling as I stand up. Is it very foolish to take a flight in my first trimester?