My Dad's Bestfriend novel Chapter 192

Sometimes, just when you think you've finally reached solid ground, life finds a way to pull the rug out from under you. One moment, everything seems to be falling into place, and the next, it's unraveling faster than you can hold it together.

Evelyn and Jacob are bracing for the fiercest storm they've ever faced—a storm that will test them in ways they never imagined. This isn't just another bump in the road; it's a plunge into depths they've never explored. Get ready, because this time, they're on a rollercoaster that's about to dive even deeper, with twists and turns they may not come back from unchanged.

It's time to dive deeper.

***

"You're too young for a child, Evelyn. Don't you get it?" Jacob's voice thundered. "You can't have that baby."

"Why not?!" I shot back, defiant and trembling. "I have a say in this too! This is my choice. I'm keeping the baby, Jacob, whether you like it or not."

Jacob groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Evelyn, I really don't have time for this shit. Just... just get rid of that thing. End of discussion."

"'Get rid of it?'" I took a step closer, anger flaring hot. In that moment, I wondered if I'd ever truly known him. "How dare you talk about our child like that? Right now, you sound like a cold, heartless piece of shit. Do you fucking care about anything in your life, Jacob?"

"Evelyn, that's not what I meant—" he started, but I wasn't about to let him twist his words.

"You called it 'that thing,'" I hissed, my voice thick with anger. "It's not just 'a thing.' It's our child, Jacob. Our blood. A part of us. How can you stand there and dismiss it like it's nothing? How dare you?!"

Jacob sighed, breaking eye contact, his gaze shifting to the night sky outside the balcony as if hoping it held some answer. "Look, Evelyn," he said after a moment, voice weary. "I'm tired of fighting about this every day. You're too young to be a mother. You have your whole life ahead of you. Don't make a decision like this on a whim. Think it through. Fucking think!"

"Is that what you're worried about? Or is it just that you're not ready to be a father?" I asked, the question hanging between us like a challenge.

He stilled, his jaw clenched, breathing heavy. For a moment, he was silent, his fists tight by his sides. Then he looked at me, eyes red and hair tousled from running his fingers through it too many times. "Fine," he whispered, raw. "You want the truth? I'm not ready to be a father. I never will be. You need to accept that. The sooner you do, the less it'll hurt."

***

Just when I thought everything was fine, life threw me a curveball.

I was pregnant. But the one person I'd thought would always stand by me was now the one trying to tear me down. He saw our child as a mistake. So what was I supposed to do? I was 'too young' to be a mother, according to everyone else. But I already felt this inexplicable bond with the life growing inside me. What do you do when the person you love most stands against what you want? When your past haunts you just as you're trying to look ahead?

I didn't have all the answers. But I knew one thing.

I had to fight. Because with the storm in my life Tyler Ricci was back—stronger than ever—and this time, he wouldn't let me walk away unscathed.

***

Evelyn

“We’re already late,” I sighed, resting my chin against his chest. “We really need to get up and head to Bianca’s, or she’s going to kill us.”

“We can be a little late,” he murmured, effortlessly flipping us so I was on my back, with him hovering above me. Slowly, he buried his nose in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “God, you smell so good.”

“Dummy,” I chuckled, threading my fingers through his hair and massaging his scalp. “It’s already past breakfast time. If we don’t get there soon, she’ll be plotting our deaths.”

He hummed, pressing a kiss to the spot between my neck and shoulder before trailing his nose along my jawline. “Trust me, baby. Since she invited us for breakfast, she probably has a secret dinner planned too. Besides, she knows us.”

“She knows us?” I raised an eyebrow, gently grabbing his jaw and making him look at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean,” he began, his left hand slipping under the duvet and tracing my inner thigh, “is that she knows we’re both really horny.”

A sharp breath escaped me, and I fought to suppress the heat pooling in my belly.

“Don’t you dare try to pin even one percent of the blame on me,” I said, trying to look serious despite the laughter threatening to bubble out. “This is all on you. I told you—multiple times—that we needed to leave, but no, you insisted. And not only did you not make it quick, but you went for three freaking rounds! This is a hundred percent your fault.”

“Oh, so you didn’t do anything, huh?” he teased, sitting up slightly and leaning closer until his face was mere inches from mine. “I wasn’t the one moaning, was I?”

“It was—”

“And I wasn’t the one begging to be fucked, or pleading to come, was I?” he continued, a smug grin tugging at his lips as red flooded my cheeks.

I opened my mouth, but he didn’t let me speak.

“And who was it pulling me in for kisses over and over? Who left nail marks on my back—marks that are still there, by the way? And who left these on my neck?” He tilted his head, exposing the faint but unmistakable bite marks on his skin.

I bit my lip, utterly silenced. My cheeks burned, my mind scrambling for a comeback that refused to come. His teasing smirk widened as he watched me flounder.