I felt my face burning. "You knew?"
"Of course we knew." My father stood, walking over to the bar cart to pour himself a scotch. "The only people who didn't know were you two." He paused, looking at Ethan.
"That doesn't mean I'm not angry about this situation. Getting my daughter pregnant without even having the decency to be in a relationship with her first? That's not how I raised her, and that's not how I expected you to treat her."
Ethan stood too, facing my father. "You're right, sir. I messed up. I should have been honest about my feelings years ago. I should have protected her better that night. I should have"
"We both should have done a lot of things differently," I interrupted, standing as well.
"But we can't change what happened. We can only move forward. And Dad, I need you to understand Ethan isn't the villain here.
We're both adults who made a choice. And yes, there are consequences, but I'm not unhappy about them."
My father studied me for a long moment, then turned to Ethan. "Are you going to take care of my daughter?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you going to be a good father to my grandchild?"
"I'm going to try my best."
"And if you hurt her?" My father's voice dropped to something dangerous. "If you walk away, if you fail them"
"Then I'll deserve whatever you do to me," Ethan said without hesitation. "But I'm not going to walk away. I'm not going to fail them. You have my word."
My father held his gaze for several long seconds, then nodded. "Good. Because that grandchild is a Chen, and we Chens don't abandon family."
"Neither do Reeds," Ethan said quietly.
Something passed between them an understanding, maybe even respect and some of the tension drained from the room.
My mother stood, crossing to me and pulling me into a tight hug. "A baby," she whispered. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm going to be a grandmother."
I hugged her back, tears pricking my eyes.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away. I was scared."
"Scared of what?" She pulled back to look at me.
"That you'd be disappointed in me."
Her expression softened. "Oh, honey.
Surprised? Yes. Worried? Absolutely. But disappointed? Never. You're my daughter, and I love you no matter what." She glanced at Ethan, then back at me. "Besides, if you had to get pregnant by someone, at least it was Ethan. I've always liked him."
"Even now?" I asked.
"Even now." She smiled. "Though he's on probation. One wrong move, and your father really will hunt him down."
"I can hear you, Lisa," my father called from across the room.
"You're supposed to!" she called back, then lowered her voice. "So, have you been to a doctor yet?"
"I have an appointment next week."
"I'm going with her," Ethan added, coming to stand beside me. "To the appointment."
My mother beamed. "Good. That's good."
She clasped her hands together. "Oh, I have so many questions! When are you due? Do you know if it's a boy or girl yet? Have you thought about names? Are you going to find out the gender or keep it a surprise? What about a baby shower"
"Mom," I laughed, overwhelmed. "It's still really early. I'm only seven weeks. We don't know anything yet."
"But we will," she said excitedly. "Oh, this is going to be wonderful. I need to call your Aunt Susan she'll want to know she's going to be a great-aunt"
"No!" I said quickly. "Not yet. Can we wait until after the first trimester? Just… in case?"
My mother's excitement dimmed slightly as understanding crossed her face. "Of course, honey. We'll wait as long as you need."
My father rejoined us, scotch in hand. "So, Ethan. When are you telling your parents?"
Ethan went pale. "I, uh… I haven't yet."
"You haven't told your family?" My father's eyebrow raised again.
"I wanted to tell Mira's parents first," Ethan said. "Out of respect. But yeah, my parents are next on the list."
"They're going to flip," I said, remembering Ethan's very traditional, very Catholic mother.
"They're going to more than flip," Ethan muttered. "My mom's been praying for me to settle down for years. This is not what she had in mind."
"Well," my father said, taking a sip of his scotch, "good luck with that. Margaret Reed is a force of nature."
"Don't remind me," Ethan groaned.
We stayed for another hour, my mother bombarding us with questions and already making plans for the nursery ("You can use Mira's old room! I'll start clearing it out!"), my father grilling Ethan about his career prospects and five-year plan.
By the time we left, I was exhausted but relieved. It hadn't been easy, but we'd survived.
In Ethan's car, he let out a long breath. "Well, that went better than expected."
"Your bar for expectations must be very low," I teased.
He laughed, reaching over to take my hand. "One parent meeting down. One to go."
I groaned. "Can we wait a few days before tackling your parents? I need to mentally prepare."
"Deal." He brought my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Although my mom's going to be furious we told your parents first."
"She'll get over it."
"You don't know my mother." But he was smiling.
We drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "I meant it, you know. What I said in there."
"Which part?"
"All of it. But especially the part about marrying you." He glanced at me. "I know it's too soon, and I know we're still figuring things out. But Mira, someday when the timing is right and we're ready I'm going to ask you properly. And it won't be because of the baby or because I feel obligated. It'll be because I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."
My throat tightened with emotion. "You really mean that?"
"Every word."
I squeezed his hand. "Then I should probably warn you I have very high standards for proposals. I'm talking rose petals, string quartet, the works."
He grinned. "Noted. I'll start planning now."
"Good. You have about seven months."
He laughed, and the sound filled the car, warm and bright and full of promise.
My phone buzzed with a text from Sage.
Sage: How did it go with the parents? Do I need to post bail? 😂
Me: Survived. Barely. My mom's already planning the baby shower.
Sage: Called it. Your mom lives for this stuff. How's Ethan doing?
Me: He's been officially granted probation by my father. One wrong move and he's dead meat.
Sage: As he should be. When are you telling his parents?
I showed Ethan the text, and he grimaced.
"Not tonight," he said. "Definitely not tonight.
Let me enjoy this victory for at least 24 hours before facing Hurricane Margaret."
I laughed, settling back in my seat as he drove us back to my apartment.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like maybe we could actually do this. The fear was still there constant and nagging but underneath it, there was something else now.
Hope.
And as Ethan walked me to my door, kissed me goodnight like I was something precious, and promised to call me in the morning, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, we were going to be okay.