Falling for my Brother’s Rival

The Truth Between Us

Sophia’s Pov

I must have picked up my phone a hundred times over the following two days, my thumb hovering over Noah’s name in my contacts, only to lock the screen again before I could talk myself into pressing call, because every version of the conversation I imagined ended the same way, with him staring at me in disbelief, unable to process the fact that one unforgettable weekend had somehow rearranged both our futures.

Emma noticed my distraction almost immediately, catching me staring blankly at my computer screen during a meeting I couldn’t remember a single word of afterward, and she waited until we were alone in the break room before finally addressing it directly.

“You have to tell him,” she said, sliding a cup of tea across the counter toward me as though caffeine might somehow make the conversation easier. “Sophia, he deserves to know.”

“I know he does.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re avoiding it?”

I wrapped both hands around the warm mug, letting the heat ground me the way it always had since we were teenagers sharing gossip in this exact building during our very first internship together. “Because the moment I tell him, everything becomes real. Right now it still feels like something that’s only happening to me.”

“It’s not only happening to you anymore,” she said gently. “It never was.”

She was right, and I hated how much I already knew it.

That evening, I sat cross-legged on my living room floor surrounded by takeout containers I had barely touched, scrolling through old photographs on my phone until I landed on one I had never intended to keep, a candid picture Noah had taken of both of us during our final morning at the lodge, my hair still messy from sleep, his arm slung casually around my shoulders as though we belonged together in a way neither of us had been ready to admit.

I stared at that photograph longer than I should have.

Eventually, before I could lose my nerve entirely, I typed out a message and sent it before overthinking could stop me. We need to talk. It’s important.

The reply came faster than I expected. Where and when?

No hesitation. No demand for explanation. Just Noah, willing to show up the moment I asked, and something about that steadiness settled the frantic pace of my heartbeat, if only slightly.

We agreed to meet the following afternoon at a quiet café several blocks from my apartment, far enough from the arena that neither reporters nor curious fans would think to look for him there. I arrived twenty minutes early, choosing a corner table tucked away from the windows, my hands trembling slightly as I wrapped them around a cup of coffee I had no intention of drinking.

Noah walked in wearing a plain jacket and a baseball cap pulled low, an obvious attempt at anonymity that somehow made him more noticeable rather than less, at least to me, because I would have recognized him anywhere by now, cap or no cap.

He slid into the seat across from me, studying my face with careful attention. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I haven’t, really.”

“Sophia, what’s going on?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again, suddenly unable to find the words I had rehearsed a dozen times in the mirror that morning. Instead, I reached into my bag and pulled out the small folded ultrasound image the doctor had given me during my appointment, sliding it silently across the table.

Noah looked down at it, confusion crossing his features before understanding slowly began to dawn, his expression shifting through disbelief, then something closer to shock, and finally something I couldn’t quite name, something soft and unguarded that I had never seen on him before.

“Is this—” His voice caught. “Are you—”

“I’m pregnant,” I said quietly, forcing the words out before they could lodge themselves permanently in my throat. “It’s yours. From the lodge.”

The café around us continued exactly as it had before, spoons clinking against ceramic, quiet conversations drifting between other tables, completely unaware that an entire world had just shifted at the small table in the corner.

Noah said nothing for a long moment, his gaze fixed on the ultrasound image as though he were trying to memorize every detail of it, and I braced myself for whatever reaction might come next, half expecting denial, half expecting him to bolt from the table entirely.

Instead, when he finally looked up, his eyes were unmistakably wet.

“A baby,” he whispered, almost to himself, testing the weight of the word.

“Noah, I understand if this is overwhelming. We barely know each other, not really, and I’m not expecting anything from you, I just thought you deserved to—”

“Stop.” His hand covered mine on the table, warm and steady despite everything. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I’m not saying it because I have to. I’m saying it because I mean it.” He exhaled slowly, something fierce settling behind his eyes. “This changes things. I know it does. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want to be there. For you. For the baby. However this needs to look.”

Tears I had been holding back for two days finally spilled over, and I quickly wiped them away, embarrassed by how much relief flooded through me at his response. “Mason is going to lose his mind.”

Something darkened in Noah’s expression at the mention of her brother’s name, though he kept his voice gentle. “We’ll figure that out. Together.”

“He hates you.”

“He’s going to hate this a lot more.”

I let out a shaky laugh despite myself, the first genuine one in days. “That’s not exactly comforting.”

“I didn’t say it to comfort you. I said it because it’s true, and I’d rather you hear the truth from me than pretend everything about this is simple.” He squeezed my hand gently. “But we’ll face it. Whatever happens next, you’re not doing this alone.”