Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 92 – Last Chance

“It was that bad, huh?” Victor says, taking in her determined face. He breathes out a tired sigh and settles down next to her, staring out into the kitchen garden. He’s surprised, a little, at how quickly he went from a frenzy of anxiety to complete calm.

Evelyn huffs a laugh. “Your dad and your brother, Victor,” she says, shaking her head. “They’re real pieces of work. How did you turn out so nice, with them in your lives?”

He shoots her a look from the side of his eye. “You think I’m nice?”

“Well,” she shrugs. “Comparatively. It’s at least been a couple of months since you’ve called me a w***e and suggested I was no better than my sons’ surrogate.”

Victor groans and puts a hand over his face. “God, don’t remind me. I’m so sorry, Evelyn.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “I don’t blame you, especially not now, seeing where you come from. At least you came around.”

“And you don’t think they can come around too?” Victor asks, still covering my face.

“I’m not sure,” she says, hesitating, “that it’s really worth the effort to try. They’re not my father-or brother-in-law, after all.”

The two sit quietly for a moment, taking in the peace of the rooftop garden. It’s a beautiful night, balmy and clear, shockingly warm for winter. Victor grimaces, thinking that he should be grateful that he got lucky weather for his wedding weekend, so rare in December. But he isn’t even thinking about his wedding.

“Are you okay?” Evelyn asks softly. Victor pauses for a moment, then slowly swings his head back and forth.

“I’m not really sure.”

“Talk to me,” she says, nudging him with her elbow.

I tried to call my therapist tonight.

before saying, “did I know you were seeing

the air, “how to balance all of this, how to bring the boys in, how to talk to Amelia. How to…” he doesn’t finish his sentence,

you couldn’t get your therapist on

sucks. I could have really used her. She’s given me a lot of clarity these past couple of weeks.” He leans his head on the back of the bench. “I

I’m a therapist,” Evelyn says, laughing a little and perking up. “Come on,

he says, his brows

is facing him. “We’ll sit back-to-back, you won’t even know it’s me. I promise,

sits up and turns so that their backs face each other. He looks up into the night sky, staring out at the stars.

wanted to talk to your therapist about,” she says,

give fake smiles to all my family, hated having to tolerate my dad and

go on. He smiles, considering it’s precisely what his therapist would have done. Must be

been a really happy night,” he continues, his voice dropping almost to a whisper. “I’m getting married tomorrow –

he doesn’t

my sons weren’t there, and my family had hurt…my friend’s feelings so much. But the truth is, even if all

is a long pause before she speaks. “Do

know which woman his

Suddenly, he snaps back into reality, into the awareness that it’s Evelyn he’s talking to. Not some impartial

going to find a better match for yourself than your mate,” she says softly. “It’s written for you; you’d be a fool to

can she make me happy? Even if she doesn’t want what I want? Even

shaking her head, admiring the way that the firelight shines