Chapter 92 : Opening Session – The Harem Council
New York, Queens – Alex's POV
Gwen is the first to move—not physically, but tonally.
She leans back against the counter, folds her arms loosely, and lets a small smile curve at the corner of her mouth.
"Well," she says, casual on purpose, "since we're waiting anyway… anyone want tea? Coffee? Emotional support snacks?"
It works.
Not immediately. But enough.
MJ lets out a soft, surprised breath that might almost be a laugh. May blinks, then exhales like she hadn't realized she was holding her breath. Even I feel the pressure in the room ease by a fraction.
Gwen keeps it light after that. She steers the conversation deliberately away from consequences, timelines, and decisions. Small things. Mundane things. Complaints about New York traffic. A throwaway comment about how absurd it is that the four of us ended up in the same apartment at the same time.
No one dives deep. No one pretends everything is fine.
But the edge dulls.
Time passes.
Long enough for shoulders to drop. Long enough for breathing to normalize. Long enough for the waiting to feel intentional instead of tense.
Then—
A knock at the door.
Sharp. Energetic. Unmistakably Darcy.
Gwen glances at me, amused. "That'll be her."
I open the door.
Darcy bursts in like momentum incarnate, jacket half-off, hair slightly wind-tousled, eyes immediately scanning the room.
"Okay," she says rapidly, then freezes. "Wow. This is… a full room."
Her gaze jumps—MJ. May. Gwen.
Processing.
Reprocessing.
"Oh," she adds, slower this time. "This is not a casual hang."
"No," Gwen agrees pleasantly. "But you're right on time."
Darcy steps fully inside, the door closing behind her. She looks at me, searching my face—not for answers yet, just confirmation.
I nod once.
That's enough.
She exhales and rolls her shoulders back, bracing herself. "Okay. Hi, everyone. I feel like I should say something witty here, but my brain is filing paperwork instead."
That earns a small smile from MJ. A surprised huff from May.
Good.
Gwen steps forward, claps her hands together once—loud enough to cut through the remaining nerves.
"Alright," she announces, voice suddenly theatrical. "Since all parties are now present—"
I already know where this is going.
"—I hereby declare the first official session of the Alex Harem Council open," she continues grandly, gesturing to the room. "This meeting shall be presided over by the one, the only—"
She turns toward me with a flourish.
"—Alex."
I press my lips together.
Barely manage to suppress the laugh.
Darcy's eyes light up instantly. "Oh my god, is there an agenda? Please tell me there's an agenda."
May looks between us, stunned. MJ lets out an incredulous breath that's half laughter, half disbelief.
The tension breaks.
Just enough.
I shake my head once, amused despite myself. "Thank you," I say dryly. "I appreciate the… ceremonial framing."
Gwen grins, satisfied.
I step forward, reclaiming the center of the room—not by force, just by presence.
"Jokes aside," I say, tone calm again, "thank you all for being here. I know this isn't an easy conversation to walk into."
I glance around the room. Every face is attentive now. Grounded.
"Even though you all know each other to some extent," I continue, "I think it would help to reset before we go any further."
A pause.
"Let's do proper introductions," I say. "Name, where you stand, whatever you feel is relevant. No pressure. Just… clarity."
I go first, to set the tone—and to keep it lighter than where we could easily spiral.
"I'm Alex," I say. "I'm a student and work in tech. I like things that make sense, plans that hold, and mornings that don't start with chaos—though I rarely get the last one." A brief pause. "I don't like half-truths, avoidance, or problems left to rot. If I'm here, it's because I intend to deal with things properly."
I give a small shrug. "That's me."
Gwen smiles and picks it up naturally.
"I'm Gwen, full-time problem magnet, part-time coffee addict," she says. "I'm a student and member of The Mary Jane." A hint of humor softens her posture. "I like honesty, direct conversations, and people who own their choices. I don't like drama for drama's sake, or being left in the dark." She glances around the room. "I'm usually calmer than I look. And yes, this"—a small gesture to the group—"was my idea."
MJ shifts, then nods to herself and speaks.
"MJ here. Probably overthinking what I just said," she says. "I'm a student and like Gwen also a member of The Mary Jane. I like people who surprise me—in good ways—and conversations that actually go somewhere." A small, self-aware smile. "I don't like uncertainty, even though my life seems to enjoy throwing it at me." She exhales softly. "I tend to think too much before speaking, but I'm trying not to do that right now."
May follows, a little stiff but earnest.
"I'm May. May Parker," she says. "I work in community outreach and nonprofit coordination." Her hands clasp together, then relax. "I like structure, routines, and knowing where I stand with people. I don't like secrets—especially the kind you keep because you're afraid of disappointing someone." A pause. "I get nervous easily, but I show up anyway."
All eyes turn to Darcy.
She blinks once. Then grins.
"Astrophysics grad student, professional chaos magnet and overthinker, an emotional support menace… Darcy reporting for duty" she says. She gestures vaguely. "I like asking questions, poking holes in plans, and food that shouldn't legally taste that good. I don't like being excluded, being lied to, or finding out important things three conversations too late."
She settles back. "Also, I cope with stress using sarcasm. Fair warning."
A beat passes.
Then Gwen lets out a quiet laugh.
MJ's shoulders ease.
May exhales like she didn't realize she was holding her breath.
The room settles into something more human. Less like a tribunal. More like a table people actually chose to sit at.
I take that opening.
"Alright," I say, calm, measured. "I'll summarize why we're here, so we're all on the same page."
I don't rush it.
"This meeting exists because reality caught up faster than expected," I continue. "Two members of this harem are pregnant. That wasn't planned. It wasn't coordinated. But it's real, and it has consequences."
I glance briefly at MJ, then at May—not lingering, just acknowledging.
"So far, we've established a few things," I go on. "First: no one is being judged. Not for being pregnant, not for being unsure, not for not knowing what they want yet."
Gwen nods slightly beside me.
"Second: no one is being forced into a decision tonight," I say. "There's space to think, to adjust, to be scared without that becoming a problem."
I pause, then add, firmer:
"Third: there are non-negotiables. I won't abandon my children. Ever. And I won't let anyone here carry this alone."
That lands quietly, but solidly.
I don't push past it.
Instead, I turn slightly toward MJ and give her space—real space, not the kind that pressures someone to fill it fast.
"MJ," I say evenly, "if you're okay with it, I'd like you to explain your point of view. In your own words."
No framing. No leading.
Just an invitation.
She hesitates for a second, then nods.
"Okay," she says quietly. She draws a slow breath, grounding herself. "I'll try."
Her fingers twist together in her lap before she forces them still.
"I didn't find out that long ago," she begins. "And when I did… my first reaction wasn't excitement or panic. It was disbelief." A small, shaky smile. "Like my brain refused to accept it."
She looks down, then back up.
"I'm leaning toward keeping the baby," she continues. "That part feels… right. Not logical. Just right." Her voice tightens slightly. "But that doesn't mean I feel ready. Or brave. Or capable."
Her gaze flicks to Gwen, then away again.
"I'm scared of the timing," MJ admits. "Of what it does to Gwen—because whether I like it or not, her opinion matters to me. A lot." She swallows. "And I'm scared of forcing Alex into a role publicly, when officially, he's with her."
No accusation. Just fear, laid bare.
"I don't want to be the reason things become complicated or ugly," she adds. "I don't want resentment. I don't want to look back and feel like I trapped anyone—emotionally or otherwise."
She exhales, slow and shaky.
"And at the same time," she finishes, quieter, "I don't think I could live with myself if I walked away from this without at least giving it a chance."
Silence follows.
Not heavy.
Respectful.
I let it breathe for a beat longer than necessary. Let the weight distribute evenly instead of collapsing back onto her.
Then I speak again.
"I want to address a few things you said," I continue, calm and grounded. "Not to counter them—but to anchor them."
I lean forward slightly.
"First: you're not forcing anything on me," I say. "My involvement isn't a concession. It's a choice."
I glance briefly at Gwen, then back to MJ.
"Second: complexity isn't the same thing as damage," I add. "This situation changes things—but change isn't automatically harm."
A pause.
"And third," I say more firmly, "fear doesn't disqualify you from choosing to keep this child. It just means you understand the weight of it."
I let the words settle, then shift my attention.
I turn toward May.
She's sitting very still, hands folded too tightly in her lap, shoulders drawn in like she's trying to take up less space. She's been listening to every word—really listening—but she hasn't spoken since the introductions ended.
"May," I say calmly, not abrupt, not softening it either. Just direct. "I'd like to hear your point of view too. About what concerns you. About where you stand."
She startles slightly, then nods—more reflex than decision.
"I—yeah," she says, then stops. Clears her throat. "Okay."
She takes a breath that trembles despite her effort to keep it steady.
"I didn't plan for this," May says first, almost apologetically. "Any of it." A weak, nervous smile flashes and disappears. "I'm usually very organized. This… wasn't on the list."
She takes a slow breath, trying to ground herself.
"I've known for over a week," she continues. "And I didn't say anything right away. Not because I was ashamed of being pregnant by you," she adds carefully, "but because… well, because of everything else." Her fingers tighten briefly, then relax. "Because of how people would see it. Peter… others. And even me."
Her eyes flick down to her hands.
"It's complicated," she admits. "Part of me felt… a little shameful. Not for what this is—but because you're so young. Younger than me. I could almost be… a mother to you. I needed to sort through my own feelings before putting any of that emotional and moral weight on you."
She exhales slowly, a mix of relief and tension.
"I needed time to understand what I actually wanted," she says, voice quieter now. "Before speaking, before making it real for anyone else. I didn't want to add pressure, or make this about anything other than what I could handle."
Her gaze lifts to me, tentative but seeking grounding.
"I don't know yet if I'm ready to be a mother either," she admits. "But I know I can't pretend this isn't happening." A pause. "And I don't want to make this decision alone—or leave you carrying a burden you don't need."
The silence that follows isn't heavy.
It's honest.
I nod once.
"Thank you," I say calmly. "That's exactly why we're doing this together."
May's shoulders ease slightly—enough to show she's been heard, not judged.
Darcy exhales sharply, her eyes flicking between all of us, trying to process everything she's just heard. "Wait… okay, hold on," she says, voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. "So… MJ is pregnant, May is pregnant… and none of this has been talked about until now?" She laughs nervously, the sound tinged with tension. "And… Alex, you're just… orchestrating this like it's a—like it's a meeting?"
Her words stumble over themselves, a cascade of confusion, astonishment, and concern. She lifts her hands, as if to keep the chaos at bay. "I mean, I don't even know what to say right now. This is… a lot. For all of us."
Before she can spiral further, Gwen leans forward, raising a hand gently but firmly. "Darcy," she says, calm but commanding, "you're right to be overwhelmed. That's… natural." She lets her gaze sweep across the room. "But that's exactly why everyone is here. This isn't about pressure, or judgment, or rushing anyone into a decision."
Her tone shifts, warm but deliberate. "We're here to talk, openly. About the situation, yes—but also about what each person feels, what's possible, and how we can organize ourselves to handle the consequences of whatever choices are made. No one is alone in this."
The room falls into a quiet that feels steady, grounded. Darcy exhales again, slower this time, and nods, still processing, but willing to stay. MJ and May exchange glances—relief softening their tension. I watch them, noting the subtle shift: everyone present now understands the framework, the safety net, the reason we're all here.
Gwen lets a small, almost imperceptible smile tug at her lips. "That's why this conversation matters," she adds. "Not to force choices, but to make sure we face them together. Each step, each decision, is shared—so no one carries it alone."
A pause settles over us.
And just like that, the first session of this unexpected, unprecedented harem council comes to its natural pause.