Chapter 176: Chapter 176

The silence stretched, uncomfortable and sharp. No one wanted to speak first. I could feel Delilah’s eyes sweeping over each of them, searching for someone to crack, someone to admit something ugly.

Finally Jasmine exhaled through her nose, set her elbows on the table, and looked right at her.

“You think he’s using us?” she said quietly. “That’s not it.”

Delilah’s brow arched. “Then what is it, exactly? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve all just… accepted being one of many.”

“That’s not fair,” Nala said softly.

“Isn’t it?” Delilah’s voice carried an edge. “You share him. You know that. You act like it doesn’t bother you, but—”

“Because it doesn’t,” Jasmine interrupted, her voice firm this time. “I’m not here because I need someone to own me. I’m here because he makes this place feel… normal. Like I can breathe again. I don’t expect him to fix me or marry me or whatever fantasy you think we’re all living in.”

Delilah blinked, caught off guard by Jasmine’s tone.

Tessa leaned back, crossing her arms. “Yeah. We’re not his toys. You think any of us don’t see his flaws? He’s stubborn, he’s reckless, and he’s got no clue how to say no to someone in need. That’s what got him into this mess in the first place.” She smirked faintly. “But using us? No. He’s the one who ends up getting used half the time.”

“That’s true,” Nala murmured, her voice trembling a little. “When Guy had me cornered, I thought I was done. Evan didn’t owe me anything, but he risked everything anyway. He… didn’t even ask for anything in return. I think that’s when I realised he doesn’t really know how to take from people. He just gives until there’s nothing left.”

Delilah looked between them, her expression faltering. I could see her jaw tighten, the anger still there but struggling to find ground to stand on.

Kim was quiet for a long time before speaking. “It’s not romantic for all of us,” she said slowly. “Not in the way you think. Some of us needed a person who listens. Someone solid. Someone who doesn’t run the second things get ugly. That’s what Evan is.”

“An anchor,” Jasmine said suddenly, finishing Kim’s thought.

Kim nodded. “Yeah. That’s the word.”

Anchor. The word hung in the air, simple but heavy. It hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

Delilah gave a short, bitter laugh. “An anchor. That’s what you call it?”

Tessa shrugged. “Call it what you want. We all had our storms, Delilah. He was just the one stupid enough to stand in the middle and not move.”

The room went quiet again. Delilah’s anger looked like it was melting into something else, confusion, maybe. Sadness. She stared at her hands, tracing the edge of her coffee cup with a thumb.

“I thought I was the only one who saw that in him,” she said finally. Her voice was small, quieter than I’d ever heard it.

“You weren’t wrong for seeing it,” Kim said gently. “You just didn’t know you weren’t alone.”

Delilah gave a dry laugh. “That makes it sound so simple.”

“It’s not simple,” Nala said. “None of this is. We argue. We get jealous sometimes. But we don’t hate each other for it. Because we know why we’re all here. He… keeps us grounded.”

I wanted to say something then, to thank them, to tell them how much those words meant, but my throat was too tight. All I could do was listen, heart pounding, afraid that one wrong word would shatter the fragile peace forming in the room.

Delilah looked at me then, her eyes softer now. “You really didn’t tell them, did you?”

“Tell us what?” Jasmine asked, sitting up straighter.

Delilah sighed, rubbed her temples, then met my eyes again. “You should tell them.”

My pulse spiked.

“Delilah,” I whispered, but she shook her head.

“No. They deserve to know what they’re signing up for.” She stood slowly, placing both palms on the table, steadying herself. “You all talk about him like he’s the one holding you together. But what if that anchor starts to sink? What if the weight drags you all down too?”

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t stop.

“Because that’s what happens when you tie yourselves to someone. You don’t just share the good parts. You share everything. The mistakes, the fear, the guilt. The… consequences.”

The word hung there, sharp and loaded.

She looked at me again, eyes glistening.

“I’m pregnant,” she said finally. “With Evan’s baby.”

The air left the room.

No one moved. No one breathed. Even the hum of the refrigerator seemed to fade away.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought I might throw up. I couldn’t read any of their faces, shock, confusion, disbelief, maybe all of it at once.

Delilah exhaled, voice quieter now. “How do you all feel about that?”

The girls stayed frozen. Jasmine’s mouth opened, then closed again. Nala stared at Delilah like she hadn’t heard right.

Kim was the first to move. She leaned back in her chair, exhaled slowly, and said, “Well… boy or a girl?”

The tension cracked just like that.

Delilah blinked, startled, and then a sound slipped out, the tiniest laugh. It started small, awkward, like she didn’t mean to. But then it grew, soft at first, then warmer, rolling out of her chest until she was actually laughing. Not mockingly. Just… freely.

She wiped at her eyes, smiling through it. The girls watched her, half-smiling themselves, the fear in the room easing bit by bit.

For the first time that morning, it felt like the world wasn’t collapsing, just bending into something new, something strange, but maybe still survivable.

Delilah’s laughter faded slowly, tapering off into a quiet sigh. For a heartbeat, there was peace, the kind that comes right after a storm, when you think maybe the worst is over. But then her breath hitched.

It was so sudden I almost missed it.

Her smile trembled, then vanished entirely. Her eyes glossed over, and before anyone could react, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“Delilah?” I said softly.

She tried to speak, but it came out as a broken sound, half laugh, half sob. She covered her mouth with her hand, shoulders shaking. The room froze again, the air pulling tight.

I stood, but Jasmine was faster. She crossed the table in two steps and knelt beside Delilah’s chair, resting a hand on her arm. Kim joined her without a word, sliding a tissue box closer. Tessa moved to her other side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, whispering something none of us could hear.

Even Nala stood up, circling behind her chair, her eyes glistening too. For a moment, it didn’t feel like they were comforting a stranger. It was like they all knew exactly what that kind of crying meant, the kind that came when you’d held it in too long.

Delilah tried to speak again. “I’m sorry,” she managed between sobs. “I just… I didn’t think I’d end up here. I thought… I thought I’d hate you all. But I don’t. I don’t.”

Her voice broke completely on the last word.

I wanted to say something. Anything. But my throat felt locked shut. All that came out was a breath. I took a step forward, hand half-raised, but I stopped when I saw how they looked at her, how careful they were, how gentle. This wasn’t my moment to fix.

Nala turned then, her eyes finding mine. She gave me a small, understanding look, the kind that said everything without needing words.

“I think we should talk,” she said quietly. “Girl talk.” She hesitated, then added, “You know?”

I swallowed, nodded once.

“Can you head to TechForge for now?” she continued. “I’ll meet you there later.”

“Yeah,” I said finally, though it came out barely above a whisper.

Delilah still had her face buried in her hands, the other girls murmuring soft things around her. I wanted to reach out, to pull her close, but all I could do was stand there uselessly.

I took one last breath, then turned toward the door. The floor creaked under my steps, the sound of quiet sobs fading behind me. My hand found the handle.

When I opened the door, the morning light spilled in from the corridor, cool and pale against my face.

I looked back one last time. The five of them sat gathered around the table, not divided anymore, not fighting. Just… human.

I exhaled, heavy and slow, then stepped out and closed the door behind me.

I stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. The ride felt endless, like time was dragging on, each second stretching into eternity. I could feel the sweat starting to bead on my forehead, my hands trembling. Nervous energy buzzed through me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had no idea how I ended up in this mess.

The elevator doors finally opened, and I stepped out into the lobby, not daring to look up. I kept my gaze fixed on the floor as I made my way to the exit, the weight of the moment pressing down on me. Outside, I fumbled through my pocket for a cigarette.

“Fuck… what now?” I muttered to myself, the words tasting like smoke before they even left my mouth.

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep