Hailee’s POV
"Where are you going?" Callum asked... his eyes narrowing as if he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
"Going ho," I replied instantly.
"My brother wants to see ."
I didn’t wait for permission.
I didn’t wait for his reaction.
I simply turned around and began searching for Oscar so we could leave.
I heard Callum speaking behind , but I didn’t stop. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. Not right now. My emotions were too raw, too tangled, too painful.
I finally spotted Oscar in the hallway. His face lit up when he saw , and sothing inside my chest loosened.
"Mother!" he squealed, running into my arms.
I picked him up, hugging him tightly as if I needed him to anchor before dropping him down.
"Let’s go, sweetheart," I whispered.
But before I could take another step, Callum’s voice echoed again—louder this ti, edged with frustration.
"Hailee, just wait."
I didn’t.
I kept walking.
Hurried footsteps rushed behind , and then Callum appeared in front of , blocking the hallway.
He looked... hurt. And angry. And desperate.
"Why are you running from this?" he asked softly, but the hurt in his voice was obvious.
"I’m not running," I said. "I just need space. And my brother needs ."
"But you’re leaving," Callum whispered. "You’re always leaving."
I closed my eyes for a second, breathing deeply.
"I’m overwheld. I’m confused. I need to think, Callum."
He swallowed, his jaw tightening.
"Think about what? Whether you want the child?"
My chest stilled.
He took a step closer, his voice rising, cracking.
"I’m... scared, Hailee. Scared for our child."
My frown deepened. Even Oscar stiffened in my arms.
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing.
"You clearly don’t want this! You’re choosing Nathan, you—you don’t even look at —to you this child is a mistake. You are risking their life."
My frown deepened. "Nothing is going to happen to this child," I snapped, my voice shaking with fury.
Callum looked up, startled.
I stepped toward him—rage replacing every ounce of fear in my body.
"How dare you call my baby a mistake?"
"I—I didn’t an—"
"No!" I yelled. "Don’t you dare try to take that back. Don’t you ever call my child a mistake again."
Tears burned in my eyes, but they weren’t from sadness.
They were from rage.
"I will never—" my voice cracked, "never see my child as a mistake. No matter how complicated the situation is. No matter who the father is. No matter what happens between us."
Callum’s face crumpled, guilt crashing over him.
"Hailee... I spoke out of anger. I didn’t an—"
"You ant it," I cut in.
"You may be the father, but that does not give you the right to decide if my child deserves to live."
"I’m scared," he whispered. "I’m scared to lose you. I’m scared of everything."
"So am I!" I breathed out. "But this child... this innocent little life... is mine."
He looked down, ashad.
"And I will have this child," I said firmly, lifting my chin.
"But without your mark."
I turned to leave, but Callum stopped by holding my arm.
"Hailee... wait."
His voice cracked, softer now, drained of all the shouting from minutes ago.
"Where... where are we going to see each other again?"
I swallowed.
The truth was painful.
But I wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything anymore.
"I don’t know," I said honestly. "I just... I need to go ho. I need ti to breathe."
He blinked, hurt flickering across his face. "Hailee... I’ll co see you."
"Fine," I whispered. "But not today."
Before he could say more, I gently pulled my arm from his grip.
"Goodbye, Callum."
I held Oscar and walked past him—without looking back.
I kept walking until I reached Oscar’s room.
I set him down and forced a small smile. "Let’s pack your things, sweetheart. We’re going ho."
Oscar nodded quietly and walked to his small closet, picking out his clothes with his usual neatness. He was only ten... but sotis he acted older than .
We packed in silence for a few minutes, folding shirts, placing books in his small bag, picking up toys from under the bed.
Then suddenly, he sat on the edge of the mattress and stared at .
Long.
Serious.
Almost like an adult.
"Mom," he said quietly. "You’re pregnant."
My hands froze around one of his shirts.
I turned slowly. "Who told you that?"
He shrugged. "Nobody. I heard it. And... I can feel it. You don’t have to lie to ."
Oscar... my sweet boy.
Too smart for his age.
Too observant.
Always watching even when no one thought he was.
I exhaled, sitting beside him. "Yes, baby... I’m pregnant."
He studied my face before asking softly:
"Is the father... Alpha Callum?"
My chest tightened. "Yes."
Oscar looked down at his hands.
He didn’t complain.
He didn’t frown.
He just... thought.
After a mont, I gently brushed his hair back. "Talk to . How do you feel about it?"
Oscar took a shaky breath before lifting his eyes to mine.
"You should do whatever makes you happy, Mom," he said quietly.
My heart squeezed.
"But..." He swallowed, his small hands twisting together. "I’m scared."
I moved closer. "Scared of what, sweetheart?"
He looked at with eyes far too old for a ten-year-old boy.
"When you had and my brothers... you almost died."
His voice cracked a little. "Godfather Frederick told . I heard the staff talk too. They said your body went through a lot."
My breath caught.
Oscar blinked fast, trying to be strong. "I don’t want anything bad to happen to you again. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t care who the father is... I just want you to be okay."
A tear slipped down my cheek before I could stop it.
I pulled him into a tight hug, burying my face in his hair. "My baby... nothing will happen to . I promise."
"You can’t promise that..." he whispered, voice trembling.
"I can promise," I insisted softly, cupping his cheeks so he would look at . "I will be fine. I will take care of myself. And no matter what happens... I will always co back to you."
His lips quivered.
I pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Okay? Don’t worry about anything. Let handle it."
He nodded slowly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "Okay, Mom."
I brushed his hair back gently.
"Good. Now dress up and bring your backpack downstairs. We’re leaving soon."
He slid off the bed and nodded. "Yes, Mom."
I watched him walk to his closet, taking steady breaths, trying to hide the storm inside so he wouldn’t feel it.
Then I stood, smoothing my hair and wiping the tears from my face.
I needed to pack my things too.
I stepped out of Oscar’s room and walked down the hallway toward mine.
The door was slightly open.
I pushed it gently—
And stopped.
Nathan was inside.
Standing by the window.
Waiting for .
His hands were in his pockets, his head down, shoulders tense... like he’d been wrestling with whatever emotions were eating him alive.
When he heard the door click, he lifted his gaze.
Our eyes t.
Nathan didn’t move at first.
He just watched — those green eyes searching my face like he was trying to read every thought, every fear, every bruise on my heart.
"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.
I swallowed hard, my throat tightening. "I... I don’t know."
The words ca out broken.
Without hesitation, Nathan opened his arms.
I didn’t even think.
I walked straight into him, pressing my forehead against his chest as his arms wrapped around , warm and strong, holding the way no one else ever could.
All the fear, the confusion, the exhaustion... it spilled out silently as I clung to him.
"It’s going to be okay," he whispered against my hair. "Everything will be fine, Hailee. I promise."
His voice was steady—even though I knew he wasn’t fine at all.
I lted deeper into his embrace, breathing him in, letting his presence calm the storm inside the way it always did.
After a mont, my voice cracked softly:
"Nathan... what about us? What’s going to happen to us?"
His arms tightened around for a second—just a second—before he pulled back slightly so he could look into my eyes.
And the pain there...
It nearly destroyed .
"I don’t know," he whispered. "I wish I did. I wish I could tell you everything will fall into place. But right now... we can’t think about us."
My chest ached.
He gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
"You should go ho," he murmured. "Talk to Peter. Be with your family. Think clearly. That’s what matters right now."
I nodded slowly, even though part of wanted to scream and tell him I wasn’t leaving him.
I stepped back to start packing, but Nathan reached out and touched my hand.
"Sit," he said gently. "I’ll pack for you."
I blinked. "Nathan—"
"Sit," he repeated softly, guiding to the edge of the bed.
And I did.
I sat there quietly while he moved around the room.
Opening drawers. Folding my few clothes neatly. Picking up my comb, my scarf, my perfu. Placing everything carefully into my small bag like it was made of glass.
He handled everything so gently. So... lovingly.
Watching him made my heart ache in ways I couldn’t put into words.
As I sat there, my thoughts spiraled.
How did we end up here?
How did everything get so complicated so fast?
How am I supposed to choose between two n who both love ... but in such different ways?
Nathan glanced at for a second—and the soft pain in his eyes told he was thinking the sa thing.
I lowered my gaze to my hands, feeling the weight of everything pressing on my chest.
Callum. Nathan. The baby. My brother waiting for . My future suddenly tangled and uncertain.
And through it all, one thought whispered through my mind:
I don’t want to lose him.
Nathan zipped up my bag and set it gently on the bed. Then he turned back to , slowly, almost hesitantly.
His voice was soft — too soft.
"Hailee... we’ll figure it out. Sohow."
I wanted to believe him.
But in that mont, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore...
Except that I didn’t want to walk away from him.
Not today.
Not ever.
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