Elliot had always preferred a tightly controlled world—a life marked by order, responsibility, and clear boundaries. However, the silence in his home since Mia’s departure was not the peace he had envisioned. Instead, it felt heavy, accusatory, and unyielding. The memory of their last argument replayed in his mind. Mia had stood her ground, arms…
see Mia sitting in a booth, her hand resting on her rounded belly. Elliot froze. Pregnant. His little girl was pregnant.
Across from her was Joshua—his best friend of twenty years—leaning in with a concerned expression. A surge of confusion and anger coursed through him. Without thinking, Elliot marched into the café.
“Mia!” he barked, startling her. The café fell silent as patrons turned to watch. “What the hell is this?”
Her face drained of color as she instinctively cradled her stomach. Joshua stood, hands raised in a calming gesture.
“Elliot, let’s talk about this,” he began, but Elliot was too far gone.
“Is this the boyfriend you refused to introduce me to?” Elliot spat, pointing at Joshua. “This? My best friend?”
“It’s not what it looks like!” Mia stammered, her voice trembling.
“Not what it looks like?” Elliot roared. “You’re sitting here, pregnant, with the man I trusted most. What else am I supposed to think?”
Joshua stepped forward to defuse the situation, but he tripped over a chair leg and stumbled backward. The café held its breath as he fell, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He lay motionless.
Mia screamed and dropped to her knees beside him. “Call an ambulance!” someone shouted, but Mia was already fumbling for her phone.
Elliot stood frozen, the weight of the moment crashing down on him.
Hours later, Elliot and Mia sat in the hospital waiting room, the tension palpable. Finally, Mia broke the silence. “You’ve got it all wrong,” she said, her voice shaking. “The baby isn’t his.”
Elliot turned to her, confusion and guilt battling within him. “Then what’s going on, Mia?”
She took a deep breath. “The baby is Dylan’s. We were together after I left, but when I told him I was pregnant, he bailed. I had nowhere to go, so I went to Joshua. He let me stay with him and helped me figure things out. That’s it, Dad. He’s been helping me.”
Elliot’s chest tightened. The anger that had fueled him earlier now felt misplaced. He had accused his best friend and his daughter—over what? His pride? His need for control?
When Suzanne, Joshua’s wife, arrived, she was frantic. The doctor explained that Joshua had suffered a subdural hematoma and needed emergency surgery. The gravity of the situation hit Elliot hard, the reality of his anger sinking in.
Suzanne’s voice trembled as she asked, “What about the cost? We don’t have the savings for this.”
Without hesitation, Elliot returned home and gathered everything he could—savings, emergency funds, loose change—anything to cover the surgery. Handing the envelope to Suzanne, he said, “He’s my best friend. This is the least I can do.”