Chapter 45
CHAPTER 45
DIXIE
I wasn’t planning on going tonight—didn’t even want to. But something inside me, maybe stubbornness or sheer stupidity, pushed me to face them. If I avoided Frankie, I’d be giving her the satisfaction of thinking she’d won. I always let her win.
In my mind, it was easier to just go along to get along. Frankie and I were close but we still fought like sisters. This disruption in our relationship was temporary. It had to be. I couldn’t let her ruin something because she couldn’t get over a man she never had. One way or another, I would get through to her. That meant I needed to keep going like everything was normal. If I walked away, the rift between us would only get bigger and bigger until it would take a miracle to fix.
So, I had to put on my big girl panties and face the family. I already had a story prepared for why I was showing up to dinner and not going to the rehearsal dinner with Hayes. I was going to tell them they changed the dinner. Simple. I didn’t want to get into a long story.
I hoped like hell Frankie didn’t start questioning things. Or make a big deal out of… everything. I had no idea if she had told our parents about the pregnancy, but I wouldn’t put it past her. If she told Simon, there was no reason she would keep it from our parents.
This was going to be one hell of an evening.
I got dressed, choosing to wear a nice outfit instead of my usual jeans and whatever. It was my armor in a way. I needed to feel confident going into this evening.
I pulled up to my parents’ house and Frankie’s BMW was already there. Somehow, coming home felt less welcoming than usual. Maybe because I knew what awaited me inside.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door and waited.
Frankie opened it, her smile faltering for just a second before she recovered. “Dixie,” she said, her voice tight but polite. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be busy tonight.”
I forced a smile. “Change of plans. Thought I’d surprise everyone.”
“I’ll set another place,” Mom said.
Frankie shot me a dirty look. “Why are you here?” she hissed. “Shouldn’t you be off with your boyfriend?”
“You mean after you sent your boyfriend to his apartment to tell him I had a secret?” I shot back.
She frowned. “What?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t know.”
“Girls, come sit down,” Mom called out.
I walked away from her. I wasn’t going to back down. I was done with Frankie throwing her little tantrums and getting her way. For too long, I always acquiesced. I always let her win our arguments. Not anymore. This was too important.
I took my seat at the table, my hands trembling slightly under the edge of the tablecloth. Frankie sat across from me, her jaw clenched, her eyes burning with that familiar fire. Mom was bustling around, adding an extra plate for me, while Dad was already helping himself to the mashed potatoes.
“So,” Dad said. “What’s this about a change of plans? I thought you were supposed to be at some fancy rehearsal dinner tonight.”
I forced a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as hollow as it felt. “Oh, you know how these things go. Last-minute changes. They decided to keep it smaller than they thought. I figured I’d come here instead.”
Frankie snorted softly, rolling her eyes. I ignored her bratty bullshit.
Mom handed me a plate, her brow furrowed in concern. “Well, we’re glad to have you. You’ve been so busy lately. It’s nice to see you for a change.”
I managed a small smile, my fingers tightening around the fork in my hand. “Yeah, I guess I have been. Work’s been crazy, and… well, you know how it is.”
“Work,” Frankie muttered under her breath, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She stabbed a piece of broccoli with more force than necessary, her knuckles white around the fork.
Mom shot her a warning look. “Frankie, let’s keep it pleasant, shall we?”
Frankie didn’t respond, but the tension at the table was palpable. My parents exchanged small talk about the weather and church gossip, while Frankie sat across from me, shooting daggers with her eyes every time I reached for the salt or took a sip of my drink. My father, oblivious as always, commented on how nice it was to have “both his girls” at the table.
“Feels like it’s been ages,” he said as he buttered a roll.
“Dad, I was just here.”
Frankie snorted. “I’m surprised you made time for your middle-class family after rubbing elbows with the rich and famous.”
I clenched my fork, forcing myself to stay calm. She wasn’t going to bait me. Not tonight.
Thankfully, my parents ignored her comment. They talked about the neighborhood gossip while Frankie and I glared at each other.
After dinner, I followed Frankie into the kitchen, grabbing a towel to dry the dishes she was already angrily scrubbing. It was a habit we’d had since childhood—cleaning up together after every family meal, sharing secrets or jokes while our parents watched TV in the next room.
But tonight, as I reached for the first plate, Frankie turned on me.
“Go away,” she snapped, her voice low but sharp enough to cut.
“No,” I said firmly, planting my feet.
“I don’t want your help.”
“Too bad. You’re not the boss here. Mom and Dad expect me to help like I always have.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell them.”
“No, you won’t.”
“I don’t know why you’re here,” she snapped. “Just go away.”
“This is my family, too. You don’t get to decide whether I’m allowed to be here.”
Frankie slammed the plate down into the water, soapy water splashing onto the floor. “You don’t get to waltz in here like nothing’s wrong, Dixie. Not after what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done ?” I shot back, keeping my voice low but sharp. “You mean dating someone you had dinner with a couple of times? Someone who actually cares about me? Yeah, Frankie, how dare I?”
She whirled around, her face flushed. “This isn’t just about Hayes, and you know it. This is about you lying to everyone—including me. You think I’m just jealous? As if. I can date anyone I want. You are getting my sloppy seconds.”
“You never got sloppy with him in the first place,” I said. “You’re just pissed because I have. You’re so used to men falling all over themselves to get in your pants you can’t stand the fact that this one guy wants me and not you.”
Before I could blink, the hose from the sink was in her hand, and a blast of cold water hit me square in the tits.
“Frankie!” I shrieked, jumping back, but she blasted me again, this time soaking my hair.
“You ruin my relationship out of spite, and now you won’t even leave me alone to do the damn dishes?” She turned the water off but glared at me like she wished it could shoot fire instead of water.
“I didn’t ruin anything!” I snapped, grabbing a dish towel to blot my shirt. “Telling Simon was an accident! I thought he already knew about your obsession with Hayes.”
Frankie’s expression darkened. She stepped closer, her voice a venomous whisper. “You thought I told my brand-new boyfriend that I was previously in love with Hayes fucking Bancroft?”
“Bancroft?”
We both froze. Our mother stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised to the ceiling.
“I knew something was going on with you two,” she said, her voice dripping with exasperation. “Now, what in the world does Hayes Bancroft have to do with all this? And why have you both been acting like brats all night? Seriously, you two are like children.”
Frankie and I exchanged a look, the kind that said, You first.
“Mom,” Frankie started, her tone cautious.
“No,” I interrupted. “She’ll twist it.”
“Fine,” Frankie shot back, folding her arms. “You tell her.”
I took a deep breath and spilled the basics: the history between Hayes and Frankie, how I’d started seeing him, the fallout with Simon. I left out the baby, of course, but even the censored version of the story was enough to make my mother’s jaw drop.
When I finished, she laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that made my stomach twist.
“Oh, Dixie,” she said, shaking her head. “I raised you better than this. A man like Hayes Bancroft? A literal billionaire? You really think this is going to work? Are you delusional? I have met a few of the women those men marry. I’m sorry, honey, but you are not in their league. You don’t want to be. That family is a hot mess. Anytime I go anywhere, I hear about one of their scandals. You don’t want that disaster in your life.”
Her words hit like a slap. “He’s not like that,” I said quietly.
She waved me off. “Of course he’s like that. They’re all like that. Greedy, arrogant business tycoons who think they can buy anything—or anyone. And you’re letting him come between you and your sister? Ridiculous.”
“Mom—”
“Enough,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “You two can clean this kitchen and sort out whatever nonsense you’ve gotten yourselves into. I’m done with it. Forget about any and all men from that social circle.”
She left the room. The silence that followed was deafening.
Frankie grabbed a sponge and started scrubbing the counter with unnecessary force. I grabbed a stack of plates and began drying them, my hands shaking with anger and frustration.
“You know she’s not wrong,” Frankie said after a moment, her tone acidic.
I shot her a glare. “About what?”
“About Hayes,” she said, not looking at me. “And about you letting him ruin everything.”
I threw my towel onto the counter. “I didn’t let anything happen! And for the record, this isn’t about you and Hayes. It’s about me.”
Frankie turned to me, her eyes blazing. “How long are you going to hide this from Mom and Dad? When are you going to tell them you let that dude knock you up?”
“I’ll tell them after I tell Hayes,” I said through gritted teeth.
Her jaw dropped. “You haven’t told him?”
I didn’t answer, which was answer enough.
“Dixie!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “What is wrong with you?”
“I don’t need this from you right now,” I snapped. “I need support. Normally, you’d be that person, but…” My voice broke, and I looked away, blinking back tears. “But I feel like I’m wading through mud, Frankie. I’m doing the best I can.”
For a moment, her expression softened, and I thought maybe she’d reach out, say something kind or reassuring.
“I wish we could talk,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” she admitted, her voice equally soft. “But things have changed.”
Once, Frankie had been my rock, the one person I could always count on. Now, she felt like a stranger.
“You can be pissed at me, but this is my secret to tell,” I said quietly.
Frankie stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turned back to the sink, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a pot. The silence between us was heavy, filled with everything we weren’t saying.
I finished drying the plates and stacked them in the cabinet, my hands still trembling. My mind raced with all the things I wanted to say—needed to say—but the words wouldn’t come. How had it come to this? We used to be inseparable, finishing each other’s sentences and laughing until our sides hurt. Now, we could barely stand to be in the same room.
“You should tell him,” Frankie said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Hayes. You need to tell him.”
“I know,” I whispered.
I walked out of the kitchen and said goodbye to my parents. I drove back home to my apartment feeling more alone than ever.