Chapter 352: She’s Really All Right
The plane touched down in Montclair just after nine in the morning, and Gilbert turned on his phone to a flood of messages that made his blood run cold.
He read them in the car, Audrey’s hand on his knee, her expression moving from post-vacation calm to low concern as his face changed. Arianne collapsed. Noah left set. Rochefort Group in flux. The details were fragmented and contradictory, some sources said she was hospitalized, others said she was already home, none of them could agree on what had caused it. He tried calling Franz. No answer. He tried Arianne. No answer. He tried Gio, who picked up just long enough to say "She’s stable, she’s at the estate, I can’t talk right now" before hanging up.
"Gilbert." Audrey’s voice was gentle but firm. "Tell me what you need."
"I need to go to see Arianne or Franz." He was already giving the driver a word. "I’m sorry—I know we were supposed to—"
"Don’t apologize." She covered his hand with hers. "Just tell me what’s happening."
He told her what he knew, which was very little, and what he feared, which was far too much. Arianne had collapsed at work. She had been rushed to the hospital. No one was answering their phones. The last time he had received news like this—fragmented, terrifying, impossible to verify—Alex and Layla had been dead before he reached the hospital.
Audrey didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just kept her hand on his and let him stare out the window at the city sliding past, his jaw tight, his mind running through every worst-case scenario it could conjure.
She wondered if this was how he had felt that night. The night of the accident. The night Alex and Layla died. Gilbert had never talked about it in detail, he didn’t talk about most things that hurt him. She knew he had been alone when he got the call. Alone in his room, alone in the drive to the hospital, alone in the corridor where a doctor told him his best friends were gone. He had carried that grief by himself for over a year.
He wasn’t alone now. Whatever was waiting for them at the estate, she would be beside him.
The Rochefort estate was hushed when they arrived. Too hushed. Gilbert was out of the car before it had fully stopped, striding toward the front door with Audrey hurrying behind him. The foyer was empty. No one in the sitting room either. The wedding photo hung on the wall. Franz and Arianne, Lily and Leo between them, and Gilbert’s eyes caught on Arianne’s face as he passed.
He found Franz in the kitchen.
The twins were there too. Lily was at the table in her rabbit pajamas, Petal propped beside her plate, a half-eaten piece of toast growing cold in front of her. Leo sat beside her, the whale in his lap, his tablet on the table. Franz was across from them, leaning forward, his voice low and patient. They were discussing something—Gilbert caught the words "rest" and "help" and "calm"—and then Franz looked up and saw him.
"Gilbert." Franz straightened. His face was tired, the exhaustion of the past twenty-four hours etched into the lines around his eyes. "You’re supposed to be on your honeymoon."
"We got back this morning." Gilbert’s voice came out rougher than he intended. "I heard about Arianne. No one was answering their phones. What happened? Is she—"
"She’s pregnant."
The words came from Lily.
Gilbert stopped. Blinked. Looked down at the small girl who had spoken with the calm authority of someone delivering a weather report. "What?"
"Mommy Aria is going to have a baby," Lily said. "She’s twelve weeks pregnant. That’s why she was so tired. The baby was making her tired, and she didn’t know, and then she collapsed. But she’s okay now. She’s sleeping upstairs."
Leo held up his tablet: SHE NEEDS REST.
"She needs rest," Lily repeated, as if this were the most important piece of information and she wanted to make sure Gilbert understood it. "Uncle Franz said we have to be calm and help her. We’re making a plan."
Gilbert stared at her. Then at Leo. Then at Franz, who was watching him with an expression that was somewhere between apology and dry amusement.
"A baby," Gilbert said.
"Yes."
"Arianne is pregnant."
"She collapsed because she’s pregnant. The doctor said she needs rest."
Gilbert opened his mouth. Closed it. He took a step backward, his hand finding the back of the nearest chair, and lowered himself into it with the careful precision of someone who was no longer entirely certain his legs would hold him. He ran a hand over his face. His palm came away damp.
His hands were shaking.
He laughed. It was a shaky sound, half-relief and half-hysteria, the kind of laugh that came after a terror so profound that its sudden absence left you hollowed out and giddy.
"A baby. She’s having a baby. I thought—" He shook his head. "I thought she was dying. I thought it was Alex and Layla all over again. I thought—"
"I know." Franz’s voice was low. "I’m sorry. I should have called. The entire night went to my father and Gio, rescheduling—I didn’t think to update the group. I should have."
"You should have," Gilbert agreed, but there was no anger in his voice. Just the fading adrenaline of a fear he hadn’t been able to name.
Behind him, Audrey stepped forward. She had been standing in the doorway, watching Gilbert’s face as the news landed, watching the tension drain from his shoulders and the color return to his cheeks.
"Congratulations. How is she?" She asked Franz.
"Sleeping. She’s been sleeping since we got home last night." Franz paused. "She’s—it’s been a lot. The pregnancy. The collapse. She hasn’t finished processing it."
Audrey nodded. She understood, or at least she understood enough. She turned to Gilbert, sitting in the chair with his hand over his face, and placed her palm on his shoulder. "You’re all right?"
"I’m fine." He lowered his hand. His eyes were red-rimmed, but his expression had settled into something calmer. "I’m fine. I just—I need a minute."
"Take all the minutes you need," Lily said. "We have plenty. We’re not going anywhere."
Gilbert looked at her. At this small girl in her rabbit pajamas, who had just announced a pregnancy and a health crisis with the same matter-of-fact self-possession she brought to everything. "Thank you, Lily."
"You’re welcome." She turned to Audrey. "Aunt Audrey, how can we help Mommy Aria? We want to be useful. Uncle Franz said she needs rest and calm, but we don’t know what else to do. We’ve never had a pregnant mommy before. Our first mommy was already our mommy when we were born, so we missed the pregnant part."
Audrey knelt to Lily’s level. "I don’t know all the details either. But I can read about it. I’ll find out what helps and what doesn’t, and then we can discuss it together. Would that be okay?"
Lily considered this. "Yes. That would be acceptable. Leo and I will also do our own research. We’re very good at research."
"I know you are."
Leo typed something and held it up: WE CAN BRING HER SNACKS. AND DRAW PICTURES. AND BE CALM.
"Snacks are a very good idea," Audrey said. "Pictures too. And being calm is probably the most important one."
"We can do that," Lily said. "We’ve been practicing being calm. Leo is better at it than me, but I’m improving."
"You’re doing wonderfully."
Gilbert stood. His legs were steadier now.
"A baby. You’re going to have a baby."
The corner of Franz’s mouth curved upward—a small smile, tired but genuine. "Yes."
"How long have you known?"
"Since last night. We found out at the hospital."
"And you’ve been handling it alone ever since."
"I haven’t been alone. Gio was there. My father. Monica and Daryll came this morning." He paused. "But I should have called you. All of you. The brotherhood deserved to know."
"You had more important things to deal with." Gilbert’s grip tightened briefly, then released. "Can I see her? Or is she—"
"She’s sleeping. The doctor said rest is the most important thing right now. You can see her when she wakes up."
Gilbert nodded. He looked toward the stairs, toward the room where Arianne might be sleeping—the woman who had been his best friend since they were teenagers, who had stood beside him at his wedding, who had walked into a boardroom and made his enemies afraid. She was carrying a child. She was going to be a mother. The terror that had gripped him since the news on the plane had finally, fully released its hold.
"She’s really all right," he said. It was half question, half confirmation.
"She’s really all right," Franz said. "She’s pregnant and exhausted, but she’s all right."
"Good." Gilbert exhaled. "Good. That’s—good."
Audrey moved to stand beside him, her hand finding his. He interlaced their fingers without looking at her, the gesture automatic and grounding. She had been right. He wasn’t alone this time. He hadn’t been alone when he got the news, and he wasn’t alone now, standing in the kitchen of his best friend’s house, surrounded by children and family and the calm aftermath of a crisis that had turned out to be a miracle.
"Alex and Layla would have been thrilled." Gilbert eventually said.
"I know." Franz’s voice was low. "I’ve been thinking about that. About them. About what they would have said."
"They would have said it was about time."
"Probably. Layla would have cried. Alex would have made a joke to hide the fact that he was crying too."
Gilbert laughed—a real laugh this time, loose and unforced. "He would have. He was terrible at hiding it." He looked toward the stairs again. "When she wakes up, tell her I was here. Tell her—tell her I’m happy for her. For both of you."
"Tell her yourself. You can stay as long as you want."
"I will." Gilbert squeezed Audrey’s hand. "We both will."
The kitchen settled into a comfortable calm. Lily resumed her breakfast, occasionally pausing to add items to a mental list of ways to help Mommy Aria. Leo returned to his tablet, sketching something that looked like a family portrait with one extra figure, smaller than the rest, tucked between the twins. Franz leaned against the counter, the exhaustion of the past day finally beginning to ease.
And upstairs, in the hush of the bedroom, Arianne slept on, her hand resting on the pillow where Franz’s head had been, her body cradling the secret that had finally been revealed. The baby. Twelve weeks. Coming soon.
