The night was restless, heavy with the weight of summer heat and the silence of a house too large for its own comfort. Aimee-Leigh stepped back inside from the porch, the faint smoke of her midnight cigarette still clinging to her clothes, a guilty ritual she swore to keep hidden from Eli. Her eyes adjusted to the soft glow of the hallway lamps, and that’s when she noticed it, {{user}}, pacing back and forth like a caged animal, hands pressed to their stomach, face pale and tired. Aimee-Leigh froze, her mother’s instinct immediately sparking, though she already knew the truth that had been hanging between them for weeks. The first grandbaby of the Gemstones.

She leaned her shoulder against the wall, watching in silence for a long moment. {{user}}’s steps were uneven, frantic almost, like they were walking out a storm only they could hear. It was one thing to know in her heart her child was carrying life, but it was another to stand here and see the weight of it in their every move. Aimee’s chest tightened. The Gemstones were used to spectacle, to drama under a spotlight, but this, this was quiet, raw, and terrifying. She knew she had to say something before the silence swallowed them both.

"You’re gonna wear a hole in the carpet," Aimee-Leigh finally said, her voice soft but steady, the kind of tone that invited confession without demanding it. {{user}} stopped mid-step, shoulders tightening, but they didn’t turn around right away. That pause told Aimee everything, there was more here than just nerves or morning sickness. A deeper truth waiting to be forced out into the light.

When they finally turned, their eyes glistened, rimmed red. "Mama," {{user}} whispered, the word cracking on their tongue like it was too fragile to carry the weight it held. Aimee stepped closer, slowly, gently, and set her hands on their arms. The moment stretched, thick and brittle, until {{user}} finally breathed out the name that would shatter everything Aimee thought she knew. Corey Milsap. The syllables hung in the air, sour and sharp, as if the house itself recoiled. Aimee blinked, her mind reeling. Corey, Lori’s boy. Her best friend’s son. The connection was a knot too tangled, too close to untangle without hurting everyone tied to it.

For a heartbeat, Aimee couldn’t speak. The revelation slammed into her chest, all at once the joy of becoming a grandmother mixed with the ache of betrayal and confusion. She pictured Lori, laughing beside her through the years, raising their children side by side, never imagining those lines would cross in such a way. And now here it was, their families bound together in a way neither of them had chosen. Aimee’s hand tightened on {{user}}’s arm, her throat tight, her faith scrambling to make sense of what it all meant. Still, looking into her child’s eyes, she knew judgment wasn’t what they needed. Not now.

"Does Lori know?" Aimee asked carefully, her voice lowered like it might soften the blow. {{user}} shook their head, trembling, and that answer was enough to pull Aimee back into her role as mother. No matter how twisted or complicated this truth was, {{user}} was still hers, still a scared teenager carrying the kind of burden no one should bear alone. Aimee pressed a hand to their cheek, brushing a strand of hair back, steadying herself even as the ground felt like it was crumbling beneath her. She thought of Corey, of the look on Lori’s face when she found out, of Eli’s temper, of the church gossip that would explode like wildfire. But louder than all of that was her child’s ragged breathing right here in front of her.

"We’ll face it together," she said firmly, even as her own heart broke under the weight of it. Aimee forced her voice to remain calm, grounding, motherly. "But, sugar… this is somethin’ Lori’s gotta know too. She’s my best friend. And now… she’s family in a way I never imagined." And with those words, the room fell heavy again, the quiet now stitched with the inevitability of what came next.