Love in the ER

CHAPTER 22

Meanwhile, Paris ran down the stairs of the building, her heart racing and her vision blurred with emotion. Pregnant. Denise was pregnant. The words kept echoing in her mind, and she could barely process what had just happened.

How could this be happening now? Everything between her and Oliver had been going so perfectly, and now, it felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. This was too much.

As she reached the lobby, she stumbled outside, desperate for air, for space. She could feel the tears burning in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

Paris leaned against the side of the building, her hand pressed to her chest as she struggled to steady her breathing. What was she supposed to do now? Oliver hadn't even denied it. He hadn't argued that it wasn't his. What if Denise was telling the truth? What if Oliver was going to have a child with her?

The thought alone sent a fresh wave of pain through her, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming flood of emotions.

She had trusted him, believed in him—and now this.

Back in the room, Oliver clenched his fists, his mind still spinning. "Look, Denise, I don't know what you expect from me right now. This is... it's a lot. And you just dropped this bomb on me without thinking about what it would do."

Denise's expression softened slightly, her voice trembling. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin everything."

Oliver sighed, running his hand through his hair again. "This isn't something that can just be undone. If you're pregnant with my child, I'm not going to walk away from that. But this—" he gestured toward the door, where Paris had run out, "—this has made everything more complicated."

Denise nodded slowly, guilt flashing in her eyes. "I understand. But I thought you deserved to know the truth."

Oliver stared at her for a long moment before turning toward the door. "I need to go talk to Paris."

Without waiting for her response, Oliver rushed out of the room, determined to fix things. He couldn't let Paris believe this would change everything between them—not without explaining the whole truth.

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Paris stood outside the building, her back pressed against the wall as she fought to keep her emotions in check. The cool air helped a little, but it couldn't calm the storm brewing inside her. Denise was pregnant—pregnant with Oliver's child. The thought was unbearable, twisting like a knife in her heart.

She had trusted Oliver, let herself fall for him, and now this. How was she supposed to compete with that? How could their relationship survive this? She had never imagined that Oliver's past could come back to haunt them in such a way.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, and there was Oliver, his face a mixture of desperation and concern as he approached her.

"Paris, wait!" Oliver called out, his voice pleading.

Paris's heart clenched at the sight of him. She wanted to run, to avoid this conversation entirely, but part of her needed to hear what he had to say. She stayed rooted to the spot, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as he came closer.

"Please, let me explain," Oliver said breathlessly as he stopped in front of her, his eyes filled with worry. "I didn't know, Paris. I swear, I didn't know Denise was pregnant until just now."

Paris blinked, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. "But she's pregnant, Oliver. With your child," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Oliver winced at her words, but he didn't deny it. "I don't know if it's mine for sure," he said quickly, his tone urgent. "I mean, it's possible, but we ended things months ago. She could be telling the truth, but I don't know yet. I need to figure that out."

Paris shook her head, the weight of everything crashing down on her again. "What if she's right?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What if it is yours?"

Oliver reached out to take her hands, his touch gentle but firm. "Even if it is, that doesn't change how I feel about you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you, Paris. This doesn't change that. I want to be with you. You're the one I care about."

Paris pulled her hands back, her heart aching as she looked away. "But it changes everything, Oliver," she said, her voice cracking. "You're about to have a child with another woman. How can we just pretend that doesn't affect us?"

Oliver took a step closer, his eyes pleading. "I'm not pretending, Paris. This is complicated, yes, but we can figure it out. You and me. Together."

Paris swallowed hard, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. She wiped at them quickly, her emotions overwhelming her. "I don't know if I can handle this, Oliver," she whispered. "I love you, but this... it's too much."

Oliver's heart broke at the sight of her tears, and he stepped forward again, his voice gentle but insistent. "Please, Paris, don't say that. Don't give up on us. I'll do whatever it takes to fix this. I'll talk to Denise, I'll find out the truth, but please don't walk away from me."

Paris's chest tightened as she looked up at him, the raw emotion in his eyes making it harder to think clearly. She loved him, she truly did, but the idea of dealing with Denise—and the possibility of a child—felt like too much to bear. It wasn't just about them anymore. This was bigger than either of them, and she wasn't sure she was strong enough to face it.

"I just..." Paris trailed off, her voice breaking as she struggled to find the words. "I need time, Oliver. I need time to think."

Oliver's shoulders sagged, his face etched with worry and fear. He didn't want to lose her—not like this. "I understand," he said softly, though the pain in his voice was clear. "Take all the time you need, Paris. But please know that I love you, and I'm not going to give up on us."

Paris nodded, though the uncertainty still loomed heavy in her heart. "I'll call you later," she whispered, before turning and walking away, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet street.