21. Haley
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Haley
Dada.
The word had been rattling around in my skull since the car. It just kept playing on repeat, her sleepy little voice mumbling it like it was nothing. Like it was obvious.
Two syllables that had rearranged my entire understanding of the world.
I stood in the hallway outside Lily’s room, listening to her breathing settle into the rhythm of sleep, and tried to figure out what I was feeling. Because I was feeling a lot of things, and none of them made sense together.
Part of me was gutted. My daughter didn’t have a father. She had a sperm donor who signed away his rights before she could walk, a man who couldn’t be bothered to send a birthday card, let alone show up for any of the moments that mattered.
And now she was filling that gap herself, assigning the role to the only man who had actually earned it.
Part of me was proud of her. Smart kid. If you’re going to pick a father figure, pick the one who shows up.
And part of me, the part I didn’t want to examine too closely, was something else entirely. Something that had nothing to do with Lily and everything to do with the man currently packing his bag in my living room.
I pushed off from the wall and walked down the hallway.
James was folding the blanket I had given him the night before. His bag was already zipped, sitting by the door. Ready to go.
My stomach dropped at the sight of it.
“You’re all packed.” Brilliant observation, Haley. Really incisive stuff.
“Yeah.” He set the folded blanket on the arm of the couch and straightened up. “I should head back. I’ve got things tomorrow that I can’t move around, and you probably need some space to process everything.”
Space. Right. Because space was definitely what I needed right now. More emptiness in an apartment that already felt too quiet when he wasn’t in it.
“Can you stay?”
James went still. His eyes found mine across the room, searching for something I wasn’t sure I could give him.
“Haley, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I know.” I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly cold. “I know it’s not. I don’t even know why I’m asking. I just-” I shook my head, trying to find words that made sense when nothing else did. “I don’t know. I’m so confused right now.”
He took a step toward me. Then another. Closing the distance between us until he was standing right there, close enough to touch, but he didn’t. His hands stayed at his sides. His eyes stayed on my face.
“What do you need?”
It was such a simple question. And so fucking James. Always mindful of what I needed.
What did I need? I needed my ex-husband to disappear permanently. I needed my daughter to never feel the absence of a father. I needed to stop feeling like I was drowning every time I thought about the future.
Most of all. I needed James to stay.
“I just-” My voice caught on something sharp in my throat. “I wish I could make sense of all this. When she called you-”
I couldn’t finish. The sentence just stopped, stuck somewhere between my chest and my mouth, and I felt my eyes start to burn with tears I refused to let fall.
James closed the remaining distance and pulled me into his arms.
I let him. Melted into him, really, my face pressing against his chest, my hands fisting in the back of his shirt. His hand came up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers sliding through my hair.
“I’m sorry, Hales.”
I felt his heartbeat under my cheek, steady and strong and so different from the frantic pounding of my own.
“I just want her to be happy.” The words spilled out against his shirt, muffled but unstoppable.
“I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing out on anything.
Or anyone.” I pulled back just enough to look at his face, to see his eyes, to make him understand.
“What if I’m not enough? What if she needs him? ”
The thought had been eating at me for three years.
What if I was depriving my daughter of something essential by keeping her away from Caleb?
What if my anger at him was hurting her?
“No, Hales.” James’s hands moved to my shoulders, his grip firm. “You’re it for her. She doesn’t need him or his sorry ass.”
A hint of venom crept into his voice at the mention of his brother. “And she doesn’t need me either. You’re her mom, and she loves you. That’s all that matters.”
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly it hurt.
“Please stay.”
That was all I could say.
Nothing made sense anymore. My head was a mess of fears and feelings and questions I couldn’t answer.
There was no reason for me to want James this badly. And there was even less of a reason for him to be this pliant.
We broke apart, but he didn’t let go completely. His hands slid from my shoulders to my arms, holding me at a distance that was somehow more intimate than the hug had been. We were face to face now.
My gaze dropped to his mouth.
I hadn’t meant to look. It just happened, my eyes falling to his lips like they had somewhere important to be. And once I was looking, I couldn’t stop.
He had a beautiful mouth. Full lips, slightly parted. I had definitely never thought about it before today, except apparently I had, because I was thinking about it now.
God, I wanted to kiss him.
Where the hell had that come from?
What was wrong with me?
My daughter was in the next room, sleeping off a fever and a rainstorm and the emotional trauma of calling another man Daddy.
My ex-husband was threatening legal action.
My entire life was a dumpster fire, and I was standing here staring at James Sinclair’s mouth like it held the answers to all my problems.
Fuck. Why was I thinking about this?
I must have leaned forward without realizing it. Must have given myself away somehow. Because James’s hands tightened on my arms and his expression shifted into something careful and controlled.
“Haley, don’t-”
“Why not?” The words came out rough, almost angry. “Why can’t we-”
“Because if we do this, there’s no going back.”
His voice was strained. He was holding himself in check through sheer force of will.
“And you’re too emotional right now. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it.”
How was he so good to me?
How did he always know exactly what to say, exactly what I needed, even when I was too messed up to know it myself?
He managed to be this perfect combination of steady and kind and infuriatingly noble.
I couldn’t think straight. My body was still leaning toward him, drawn in by gravity or chemistry or three years of suppressed feelings I had never let myself acknowledge. I wanted him. I wanted to close this gap and find out what would happen if I stopped being sensible for once in my life.
But he was right. Of course he was right. He was always right.
And what if he didn’t even want me?
What if this was just James being James, taking care of me the way he always did, and I was about to humiliate myself by throwing my body at a man who saw me as nothing more than his brother’s ex-wife?
The humiliation of that thought was enough to make me step back.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
His hands fell away from my arms, and the absence of his touch felt like a loss.
I turned and walked toward my bedroom. Each step felt heavy, like I was moving through water. Like I was walking away from something important.
At the doorway, I stopped. Turned back to look at him one more time.
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
He nodded. “I’ll always be where you are.”