Intoxicated || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 79

Leila's POV

The morning light seeped through the hospital blinds, casting a harsh, clinical glow across the room. The antiseptic air was thick, chilling, and uninviting—a stark contrast to the warmth of home. Pain pulsed steadily through my collarbone, a raw reminder of last night: the sound of breaking glass, the sickening impact, and Marshall's words that still lingered in my mind: You're pregnant.

The reality settled on my chest, heavy and unyielding. I'd spent my whole life building walls, convinced they'd keep me safe from the chaos I'd grown up with. And yet, here I was—facing something I'd never planned for, something I'd always avoided.

I looked over and saw him—Marshall, slumped in the chair beside me. Dark shadows rimmed his eyes, and bruises bloomed across his face, stark against his beard, reminders of Alec's fists. He hadn't fought back; he'd just... taken it. He looked as worn as I felt.

From the other side of the bed, Alec's presence was a quiet but steady force. His gaze softened as it found me, a rare gentleness in his eyes.

"Lala," he said quietly, his voice rough around the edges.

"Hey, Alec." My own voice was barely more than a whisper, heavy with fatigue.

His eyes flicked to Marshall's bruised face and back to me. "You sure you're alright?" he asked, his voice low but laced with concern.

I nodded, glancing briefly at Marshall, who looked lost in troubled sleep. "Yeah... Alec, it wasn't his fault. Things got... too heated. I pushed him. He tried to stop me, and I fell." I looked back at Marshall, my chest tightening as I took in the toll etched across his face. He blamed himself. I could see it.

Alec's expression shifted, softening for a moment. "He took every damn hit," Alec murmured, more to himself. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—pride mixed with a rare respect. "Lala, you've got someone here willing to go through hell with you. That's worth more than anything."

He nodded toward the sonogram photo on the table, a visual reminder of the life growing inside me. I hadn't let myself look at it too long, not wanting to face the weight of it just yet. But Alec's words pulled me back to reality, forcing me to confront the truth I'd tried to bury.

He paused, his face shifting with something raw. "You know... I never thought I'd be ready for kids either. Growing up the way we did, it didn't feel like an option. But with Monica, it's different. I see it now—a family. And when I do have kids, I'll give them everything we never had. A real home. A life without fear." He looked down, a smile ghosting his lips before his gaze returned, fierce and filled with purpose. "And that's what I want for you, too. You can have that."

A lump rose in my throat, his words finding places I'd kept guarded. Alec wasn't just my protector; he was the only one who knew every scar, every fear. And here he was, giving me the chance to believe in something better.

As he spoke, Marshall began to stir. His eyes opened slowly, finding mine with a gaze that softened immediately, relief and something deeper behind it.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice a rough whisper.

"Morning," I replied, feeling the gravity between us, a shared understanding without words.

Alec rose, his presence towering as he stepped toward Marshall. His gaze hardened, every word a quiet but deadly promise. "Listen, Mathers," he growled. "I don't give a damn about your fame. To me, you're just the guy who's got my cousin's heart in his hands. You mess this up again, and I swear..." his voice dropped, chillingly calm, "...I'll make sure you pay for every single tear she sheds." He paused, letting the words settle before adding, "And I'd burn this whole city to the fucking ground if anyone tries to hurt her again."

Marshall held his gaze, nodding in silent acknowledgment, understanding the depth of Alec's promise. It wasn't about threats—it was a testament to Alec's loyalty, his willingness to protect me at any cost.

Then Alec turned back to me, his gaze softening once more. "You need me, you call," he murmured, his voice a steady reassurance. He gave my hand a gentle squeeze before leaving, the door closing softly behind him.

The silence felt heavy, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Marshall reached for my hand, his fingers warm and steady around mine, as if grounding me through the storm of thoughts swirling in my mind.

Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle. "Leila... I'm sorry," he whispered. "For all of it. For every time I made things harder, for every moment I hurt you. I'd give anything to undo it."

I looked at him, taking in the sincerity etched in his bruised face. "We've both messed up, Marshall," I admitted, my voice thick. "But this—this changes everything. And I don't know if I'm strong enough to do it."

His hand tightened around mine. "You don't have to be perfect to be a parent. I've learned that the hard way," he said, his voice raw. "You just have to keep showing up, keep trying. Being a father... it's the one thing I've done right. I want this, Leila. I want this with you. If you let me."

His words sank deep, chipping away at the walls I'd kept up for so long. His gaze held a quiet promise, one that was steady and unwavering, a belief that we could break the cycle together.

"Do you mean that?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, afraid to let myself believe.

"With everything in me," he replied, his tone steady and sure.

I felt the fear begin to ease, replaced by something I hadn't felt in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, we could do this—together. Marshall leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair back from my face, his gaze filled with the weight of unspoken vows.

"We don't have to decide everything today," he whispered. "But whatever happens, I'm here. We'll face it together."

I nodded, letting his words wash over me, and for the first time in a long time, the fear loosened its grip, replaced by a glimmer of hope.