Sara knew exactly what was going on, even if no one else had a clue.
They’d just gotten back to Golden Bay on Tuesday, and Grandpa didn’t waste a second. Right at the dinner table, he started dropping hints about wanting great-grandkids. He basically told Uncle Oliver it was time to check that box.
Oliver didn’t argue at all. He just said, “I’m working on it.”
Sara remembered how last time, Oliver wouldn’t even let Patricia eat anything questionable. The idea hit her all at once.
Patricia, on the other hand, was thinking, Pregnant? Seriously?
No way. Not that she didn’t want a baby—there was just zero chance. The only reason she’d thrown up was because she was upset.
“No, don’t overthink it,” Patricia said, turning to Oliver. “You know what’s up.”
Oliver’s face was unreadable. Yeah, he knew, but you never know with life.
“So why are you feeling sick?” he pressed.
Patricia kept her voice soft. “Didn’t sleep well last night and had way too much coffee today. My stomach’s just off.”
Oliver sat on the edge of the bed and started gently rolling her fingertips in his. “That’s really it?”
Patricia nodded, looking him straight in the eye. “That’s really it.”
Worried he might not believe her, she squeezed his hand. “Seriously, I promise. That’s all.”
One honest question, one honest answer. But the look on Oliver’s face said he wasn’t buying it.
Their eyes met, and for a few seconds, neither of them said a word. The silence stretched out, and Patricia suddenly realized—he actually didn’t seem against the idea. If anything, he almost looked like he wanted a baby.
Which was weird, considering he was always the one insisting on being careful.
Her heart jumped in her chest.
Wait. Was this guy all talk about being safe, but secretly poking holes in the condoms?
Sara, sensing the weird tension, tried to break the ice. “Maybe… you guys should just go to the hospital to check?” she suggested from the side.
Patricia pulled the blanket up and sighed. “I really don’t want to go through all that.”

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