Tyler's POV
I wasn't expecting to see Han here.
Not today. Not like this.
It was already too much trying to keep my head straight, trying to convince her to finally tell Eric the truth that she was pregnant.
That he's the father.
And then Han walked in.
The walking personification of my confusion. Of my guilt. Of everything I was trying not to be.
He entered like he owned the place which, technically, he could've and we all followed, like actors being dragged onto a stage we hadn't rehearsed for.
Han sat down, legs crossed, confidence radiating from every angle. He didn't speak. Didn't need to. Just being there was enough to tilt the air.
Anne was quiet. Too quiet.
She'd curled up on the other side of the couch, her hand resting over her stomach like it was instinct now. Her eyes barely met mine.
And then Eric, always the first to break the silence, stepped forward and poured Han a glass of wine. Real smooth.
