The Captain Claim

Two

LILA

She exhaled like I was slow. "You might not know this. But Mother wants an alliance with the Wades. It is supposed to be me. But that ship has sailed."

"Trisha," Ethan warned.

"Tell her," she snapped.

He didn't.

Ethan paled, shaking his head. "Trisha, don't-"

She did it anyway.

"I'm pregnant."

The word hit harder than the goal, and for a second, I thought I'd misheard her.

"You're lying."

"I wish," Ethan muttered. Then he reached for me, his eyes pleading. "Lila, please, I didn't know-"

I jerked away from his touch. "Don't. Just... don't."

He was hurt by it, no doubt. But I was hurt more.

I looked at him, really looked at him. "How long?"

He swallowed. "A few months."

A few months, while he was picking venues with me, while I was trying on dresses.

"Does everyone know?" I asked, and I hated how small my voice sounded. I turned to my sister, too. “Does mother know?”

"They will," Trisha said.

I backed away slowly. "Jesus…You used me."

"No," Ethan said quickly. "Lila, I never meant for it to go this far."

"Far?" I repeated. "You put her on the Jumbotron. You went public with her. It was never like that with me. Never."

He said nothing.

Something inside me snapped so quietly I almost missed it.

"We're done," I said.

He stepped forward. "Lila, please."

"Don't."

I turned and ran, ignoring the stares and whispers. The cool night air hit my face as I burst out of the stadium, but it did nothing to ease the burning in my chest.

How could they? How could they do this to me?

As I stumbled into the parking lot, sobs wracking my body, one thought echoed through my mind: Nothing would ever be the same again.

I stumbled towards the bus stop, tears blurring my vision. The few people waiting there averted their eyes, pretending not to notice my distress. When the bus finally arrived, I climbed aboard, sinking into a seat near the back.

The ride home passed in a haze of pain and disbelief. As I fumbled with my keys at the front door, I tried to compose myself, knowing Hannah would be inside.

When I stepped into the house, my stepmother, Hannah looked up from the dining table.

"You're late," she said. "Did they win?"

I let out a hollow laugh. "Oh, they won."

Hannah stepped forward and her eyebrows immediately rose. "Good Lord, what happened to you? You look absolutely dreadful."

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Hannah sighed, shaking her head. "Well, you'd better fix yourself up before Trisha gets home. And don't forget, tomorrow's her birthday. We can't have you looking like this for the party."

Just then, the front door opened. My heart plummeted as Trisha walked in, followed closely by Ethan.

"Lila," Ethan said, his voice low and urgent. "Please, can we talk?"

Trisha walked in first, and Ethan followed.

I didn't think. I crossed the room and shoved him hard in the chest. "Get out."

"Lila—"

"Get out!"

"What is going on?" Hannah demanded.

I whirled to face Trisha, fury and pain coursing through me. "You want to know what's going on, Hannah? Why don't you ask your precious Trisha? Go on, tell her!" I spat. "Tell her everything!"

Trisha's face paled, her triumphant smirk from earlier nowhere to be seen. "Lila, don't-"

"No!" I cut her off. "You made your choice. Now deal with the consequences."

Hannah looked between us, confusion and anger warring on her face. "Will someone please explain what is happening?"

I locked eyes with Trisha, my voice dripping with venom. "Go ahead, sister dear. Tell her how you've been sleeping with my boyfriend. Tell her you're pregnant with his child. Tell her how you destroyed everything!"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Hannah's confusion fell upon Trisha. "Trisha, what is Lila talking about?"

"Mama, I love Ethan."

Before Trisha could say another word, our mother lunged forward and struck her across the face.

“You i***t! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’re practically engaged to Tony Wade, and now you’ve dragged our name through the mud. That alliance with the Wades is crucial, and you knew that. This never happened.” She inhaled sharply, then turned to Ethan. “Get out. I don’t want to see you anywhere near my daughter again.”

It wasn’t what I expected. Hannah did not even look at me. It was as if I did not exist. Trisha was not being scolded for betraying me. She was being scolded for ruining Hannah’s arrangement.

“I need to leave,” I whispered, brushing past Ethan, but Hannah stepped in front of me.

“Lila, you’re not going anywhere. We need to discuss this.” Her tone shifted, controlled and cold. “You heard your sister. She’s carrying Ethan’s child. I promised the Wades a daughter, and it cost me a great deal to secure that understanding. Since Trisha has failed, you will step in. They’ll be here in a few days. You’ll take her place.”

I froze, then turned slowly to face her. Trisha slept with my boyfriend. Trisha got pregnant, knowing full well what her mother planned. Yet somehow, I was the one expected to fix it.

“Why would I agree to that?” My voice did not shake.

Hannah blinked, startled. I had always obeyed. Refusal was new to her.

“Why? I took you in when you had no one. Have you forgotten that? Is this how you thank me for giving you a home?”

That guilt was why I had kept my head down all these years. They had sheltered me after my parents died. For most things, I would have yielded. But marriage was not a small thing. I would not trade my life for gratitude.

“I won’t marry a man I’ve never met. Not to clean up Trisha’s mess.”

Her eyes flared. The slap came fast and hard. My cheek burned, but I would not cry. I pressed my palm to my face and stared at her.

“Did you just insult my daughter?” she shouted.

“If the description matches,” I shot back.

“Enough! You ungrateful child. Everything you have is because of me. The roof, the food, all of it.”

“I appreciate what you did for me,” I said, steadying my voice, “but that doesn’t mean you get to decide my future. I’m not a bargaining chip.”

“You have nothing without me,” she hissed. “You will not defy me.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Try it and see what happens,” she snapped.

For a second, I hesitated. I still depended on them. Walking away meant uncertainty, maybe even hardship. But staying meant surrendering myself.

"You have no choice."

I did, and it scared me. It felt like stepping off a cliff without knowing if there was water below.

"I'm leaving," I whispered again.

"Don't you dare."

I walked out anyway.

The bar downtown was dim and loud and sticky under my palms, smelling like citrus, alcohol, and bad decisions. I slid onto a stool and ordered the first cocktail I saw on the menu. When it arrived, I drank it in one swallow, and it burned less than I wanted it to.

"It's cute watching someone try to drown heartbreak with juice," a voice drawled beside me.

I turned.

Callum Reid stood there, his dark hair still damp from a shower, his championship hoodie hanging loose over his shoulders. A faint bruise shadowed his jaw, and he looked less polished up close. More real.

"Bad night?" he asked.

I huffed out a laugh. "You could say that."

His gaze shifted slightly, like he was piecing something together. "Want something stronger?"

"Yes," I said, meeting his eyes. "Whiskey."

He signaled the bartender, and two glasses appeared between us. He slid one toward me, fingers brushing the rim.

"Careful," he said quietly. "Whiskey doesn't fix anything."

"I'm not trying to fix anything," I replied. "I just need it to burn."

He lifted his glass.

"To burning."

I clinked mine against his.

The whiskey hit my tongue and spread down my throat, sharp and unforgiving. It hurt, and it felt honest.

For the first time since the jumbotron lit up my nightmare, I felt something other than devastation.

I felt reckless.

And reckless felt a lot like freedom.