**Chapter 68: Uncharacteristic Behavior** My foot tapped anxiously against the cold clinic floor, each rhythmic thud echoing my nervous energy as I sat in the sterile waiting room. The anticipation weighed heavily upon me, a storm of emotions swirling within my chest. Today was a day I had dreaded yet could no longer avoid—my pregnancy appointment. To say I was nervous would be a grave understatement; I was engulfed in a tidal wave of inner turmoil. It felt hauntingly familiar, a déjà vu spiraling me back to my second pregnancy, where I sat alone, mourning the absence of support. With Rowan, Ethan had merely chosen not to come. But now, here I was, left to navigate this heart-wrenching journey by myself once more. In the days leading up to this appointment, I had fought to suppress the reality of my growing waistline. My body had begun to betray me, revealing the undeniable signs of life burgeoning beneath the surface. Soon enough, everyone would see; soon enough, it would be no secret that I was expecting. A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and I made a mental note to share this news with my parents. It was a task I dreaded, especially considering the tangled web of relationships that bound us. Ethan was still their son—my adopted brother—and the thought of informing them that I carried his child felt bizarre and overwhelmingly uncomfortable. The situation was twisted, warped, and there was no escaping it. This baby was a reality I couldn’t wish away. “Ava,” a low voice resonated through my chaos, pulling me back to the present moment. I turned sharply, a jolt of surprise shooting through me as I laid eyes on Rowan. He stood there, looking as disarmingly handsome as ever, yet there was a calmness to his demeanor that I couldn’t quite trust. His grey eyes locked onto mine, a gaze that felt both comforting and unnerving. “What are you doing here?” I asked, blinking rapidly, half-wondering if I was imagining him. “I’m here to support you,” he replied, a smile breaking across his face—an expression I had rarely seen directed at me. “I didn’t want you to be alone.” A surge of confusion coursed through me. This was far from the stony, indifferent man I had known. What had happened to him? Why did this feel like an elaborate ruse? I moved closer and lifted a hand to his forehead, checking for a fever. Perhaps this unexpected kindness was a result of him being unwell. “What are you doing?” he frowned, eyebrows knitting together in surprise. “Just checking to see if you’re sick,” I replied, puzzled by the change in his behavior. He didn’t feel hot, so why was he here, acting so out of character? Before I could delve deeper into my thoughts, my name echoed through the waiting room. Rowan grasped my hand, gently urging me to my feet, and I felt his steady presence as he guided me toward the examination room. I couldn’t tear my eyes from the strength of his back, still in disbelief that he stood beside me. Inside the sterile room, Dr. Raven smiled warmly, her enthusiasm a stark contrast to my nervous energy. “Good to see you, Ava! Are you ready to see how your little munchkin is doing?” I could only nod, still seemingly entranced. “I’m assuming he’s the father?” she inquired, casting a quick glance at Rowan. “No! He’s just here for support,” I rushed to clarify, intercepting Rowan's attempt to speak. I noticed the slight frown on his face and how his grip tightened around my hand. What was troubling him? “Okay then,” Dr. Raven replied, stretching out the words as she observed the tension. “You know the drill—get on the bed and pull your top up.” With Rowan helping me, I complied, trying to shake the awkwardness of him observing my exposed belly. It felt surreal, given how long it had been since he last saw me this vulnerable. Dr. Raven squeezed the cold gel on my stomach and began moving the wand. “Hmm,” she murmured, her gaze fixated on the screen. “Is something wrong?” Rowan’s voice piped up before I could respond. “Everything is fine. The heartbeat is strong, and the baby is growing as expected,” she assured us, briefly turning her attention to me. “Do you want to know the gender?” “No,” I blurted out, just as Rowan said, “Yes.” “Since you’re not the father, I’ll need to respect Ava’s decision unless she changes her mind,” Dr. Raven remarked, a playful glint in her eye. I shook my head vehemently. “No, I want it to be a surprise, just like with Noah.” “My lips are sealed then,” Dr. Raven announced, switching off the machine while rising to print out the pictures. “Do you want a set of two?” “Yes, please,” I replied, remembering my promise to update Ethan. With tissues in hand, I wiped off the gel from my belly and pulled down my top. When I glanced up, I found Rowan still staring at the blank screen, lost in thought. “Rowan?” I prodded, snapping him out of his trance. He blinked and stood up. We walked back through the clinic, collecting my documents and scheduling my next appointment. As the cool air of the outside world hit us, Rowan caught me by surprise with his next words. “I want to take you out for lunch,” he said, sincerity woven into his tone. I regarded him with suspicion. “Why?” “I want us to talk.” I scanned the streets for a taxi, my heart racing at the prospect of being alone with him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. We have nothing to discuss.” Rowan ran a hand through his dark hair, a flicker of frustration crossing his features. “Ava...” His tone hardened. “I won't take no for an answer. You either get in by yourself, or I’ll carry you in.” “You wouldn’t dare,” I challenged, my pulse quickening. “Try me,” he countered, his voice even. As he advanced toward me, my feet instinctively turned, just knowing he would follow through on his threat. I huffed, turning toward his car, and he unlocked the door with a soft click. I slid into the passenger seat, glaring at him as he slid in next to me and started the engine. The silence between us crackled with unanswered questions and unresolved tension. I was angry and bewildered, grappling with the enormity of his sudden change in demeanor. This wasn’t the Rowan I had come to know; he was a new puzzle I couldn’t comprehend. Arriving at an unfamiliar restaurant, he led the way, his strides long and purposeful. We were shown to a table, and the moment the waiter left, I turned to him. “What’s going on with you, Rowan?” My voice cut through the air, steady yet laced with confusion. “Your recent behavior has been incredibly puzzling. For heaven’s sake, you showed up to my appointment for a child that isn’t even yours when you never came to any of my appointments when I was pregnant with Noah!” He hardened, solitude etching its shadows across his face, reminiscent of the man I once knew—cold, distant, and closed off. “You never wanted me near before, but now you’re everywhere. Don’t get me wrong; I’m grateful you pulled me back during my hardest times, but can we please go back to how things were? Treat me like I don’t exist again,” I pleaded, my heart aching with longing for the simplicity of my previous, painful distance. “I want a life away from you,” I whispered. “I want to heal in a place that doesn’t remind me of the suffering you caused. I just want to be left alone.” For a long moment, Rowan was silent, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he muttered, “I’m sorry.” The whisper of his apology was so low, I thought I had imagined it. My heart raced. “Why now? Why apologize when everything has already been said and done? It won’t change the past.” “I treated you so horribly,” he confessed, anger lacing his words. “You were just trying to navigate a terrible situation, and I left you alone to suffer through it.” His regret hung heavy in the air between us. “I regret every moment I wasn’t there for you,” he continued, a deep breath escaping his lips. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I’m sorry for how I handled it all.” As the weight of his words settled in, I felt a familiar anger bubbling beneath my skin. “It doesn’t change anything. You can’t expect me to forgive and forget,” I countered quietly, unable to meet his gaze anymore. “I don’t know if I ever can.” And so, we sat across from each other, locked in a silent duel of unresolved feelings, where apologies were offered but peace remained elusive. My mind spiraled through the weight of his confession, caught in a whirlwind of emotions. How could I possibly move on from the pain he had inflicted? How could I forgive the scars he had left?