Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Hailey
Every Great Goal Needs an Assist
The sun is shining. Birds chirping. A crisp breeze ruffling the ends of my hair as I step out of the doctor’s office, the sonogram photos tucked safely into my wallet.
Leif has his own copy.
The picture of his little girl, as he calls her now.
My hands cover my belly, warmth blooming in my chest—a feeling I don’t quite know how to name yet. Not just contentment. Something bigger. Something that lingers even as my brain races ahead, already sorting through the logistics of what comes next.
Beside me, Leif’s hand slides over mine. His palm is warm, familiar in a way that makes my stomach dip.
“We should celebrate,” he says, his voice lighter than it’s been all day.
I glance up at him, squinting against the sunlight. “Celebrate?” I echo, not sure where this is going.
His smirk is slow, teasing. Dangerous. “Yeah, you know. Commemorate the occasion. Maybe toast to the fact that our daughter is already giving us hell from the womb.”
I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. “Or maybe we should focus on how we’re going to set up the?—”
He cuts me off with a tug of my hand, his grip firm but playful. “Nope. No planning, no logistics, no stress for the next few hours.”
I arch a brow. “And what exactly do you have in mind, Crawford?”
Leif grins. Full grin. The kind that always gets him what he wants. “Food first. Then maybe I’ll let you pick what we’ll do after, but only if you’re good.”
I exhale, dramatic and long-suffering, but I don’t pull away. “Fine. But if this turns into one of your weird celebratory rituals, I’m out.”
Leif just squeezes my hand and winks. “Baby, you wish you knew all my weird rituals.”
“I know all of them,” I retort.
“You think, but there are new . . . you know, with having a baby and?—”
“Hailey.” Two syllables, clipped and precise, cut off our conversation. It sounds just like a military command disguised as a name.
For a second, I consider pretending I didn’t hear it. I could keep walking. Keep moving toward the car that’s waiting for us. But Leif—who is supposed to be my getaway vehicle in moments like this, comes to a complete halt, and so do I.
I am standing at attention in front of a man who has never raised a hand to me, but his words have always cut deeper than a blade.
“General.” My voice is polite. Distant. The way it always is with him.
Leif releases my hand—coward.
Dad’s gaze flicks to my stomach, the doctor’s office behind me, then back up—eyes narrowing with calculation. “So, it is true.”
Ah. No pleasantries today, then.
“What are we talking about?” I play dumb, because I need a second. A moment to brace myself. Because my father is like a storm, and I never know which direction he’s going to hit from.
Leif shifts beside me, casual but not relaxed. “General, good to see you.”
My father barely acknowledges him. Just shoots him a glare that would make lesser men run for cover. Leif doesn’t shrink, but I feel the tension in him, the way his fingers flex at his sides like he’s restraining himself from stepping between us.
“Who’s the father?” my father demands, then tilts his head toward Leif. “Is that you? You disgraced my daughter and haven’t had the decency to ask me to marry her? Where is the ring? You’re planning to marry her, aren’t you?”
I almost laugh. Because of course that’s his first concern. Not Are you okay? Not How are you feeling? Not Congratulations on this incredible, life-changing moment.
Nope. Just logistics.
“We’re not getting married,” I say, chin lifted, bracing for impact.
My father’s glare sharpens, and his lips thin as he turns his full attention to Leif. “What kind of bastard are you?” he snaps. “I knew those men who raised him were?—”
“With all due respect, General,” Leif interrupts, voice calm but edged with warning, “if you insult Hailey or my family, we’re going to have a problem.”
The silence is instant.
My father’s head tilts, amused but assessing. “Really?” he drawls. “And what exactly are you going to do?”
Leif’s jaw flexes. His hands clench, then release at his sides. But his voice remains measured, low and deadly in a way I’ve never heard before.
“I’ll support your daughter’s decision to keep our daughter away from you,” he states.
My father’s expression flickers.
“For now, we’ll be walking away,” Leif continues, “and once you work through your grief and realize the way you treat your youngest daughter is cruel—then maybe you can give us a call. Until then, stay the fuck away.”
I don’t breathe.
My father’s mouth presses into a hard line. He turns to me, eyes flashing. “Are you going to allow him to talk to me like that? I’m your father.”
The words sink in like ice water down my spine. This, this moment can change a lot of things. I could cower or finally confront him.
“I’m not marrying someone just because it makes you more comfortable,” I say, my voice clear despite the storm raging inside me. “And I’m letting Leif choose to talk to you how ever he sees fit. But I won’t let you talk to me the way you do anymore.”
Silence.
A slow blink. Then he shakes his head, mouth curling into something dangerously close to amusement. “That’s not how the world works, Hailey. You owe me respect because I am your father.”
I don’t realize my hands are clenched until I feel Leif’s fingers brush against mine.
“I know exactly how your world works,” I say, forcing my hands to unclench. “I spent my whole life trying to prove myself in your world. Trying to fit into a version of me you could be proud of, a version where you—” my throat tightens “—where you love me again.”
The words sit between us, fragile and ugly, the truth we never speak out loud.
“But I don’t need your approval anymore,” I say, each word a release.
He exhales slowly, like he’s tired of me. Like I’m a burden, an inconvenience.
“Hailey—”
“No.” My voice is firm. Stronger than I feel. “I let you decide who I was for too long. I let you tell me what was worth my time, what was worth my life. But you never saw me. Not really.”
“I just want what’s best for you,” he says, and the worst part is—I think he believes it.
I shake my head. “No, you want what’s best for you.”
A slow, precise pause.
Then, as calmly as if we were discussing the weather, he says, “If you go through with this, don’t expect my help. I won’t be there for you.”
But that’s the thing. He’s never been there for me. The Crawfords made me feel like I belonged. My father made me feel like I owed him my existence.
This should be the part where I beg. The part where I fold myself into the shape he wants so I don’t lose him completely.
Except I’m not a twelve-year-old girl who just lost her mother. Not anymore.
And I am so fucking tired of fighting for a father who has never fought for me.
I exhale. Let it go.
“That won’t be a problem.”
He nods once, a precise, formal motion. Then turns and walks away, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
I stare after him, my hands shaking at my sides, my pulse drumming in my ears.
Leif steps forward carefully, like he’s waiting to see if I’ll break. I don’t. But something inside me shifts.
Because when I look at Leif—at his blue eyes still locked on me with quiet intensity, at the way his hands are still curled like he wanted to throw a punch but didn’t—I realize something. His fathers—his family—have been more of a family to me than my father ever was.
And him?
Leif is already more of a father to my daughter than the man who raised me was to me.
“You okay?” he asks, voice quieter now.
I nod, then exhale, the tension in my body slowly unraveling. “Yeah,” I say, voice rough but sure. “I think I finally am.”
Leif watches me for a long moment, then—so gently it nearly unravels me—he lifts my hand and presses his lips to my knuckles.
“That was pretty badass of you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Scary, though. I was afraid he was gonna shoot us. But I’m proud of you, Hailey Bean.”
I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat. “I’m proud of us.” Then I sigh. “Let’s go home. That man exhausts me.”
“Home it is,” Leif agrees, but then his smirk turns wicked. “Though maybe I’ll tire you out more before you nap.”
I roll my eyes. “Unless you’re planning on fucking me with your cock, I don’t want anything from you, Crawford. I’m tired of just coming with your fingers and your mouth—love your tongue, but I need more.”
There’s a moment of silence.
And then—several gasps. Fuck. I may have said that louder than intended.
A group of well-dressed people waiting for their car on the curb stare at me.
Leif grins, absolute bastard. “Good. Say it louder. If this turns into a PR nightmare, I’m blaming you—‘Leif Crawford’s girlfriend is so horny she’s begging for his cock in the middle of Manhattan’ doesn’t sound like a great headline.”
My entire soul leaves my body.
“Shut up,” I hiss, my face burning.
He winks, then leans down, his voice dark and sinful in my ear. “Be a good girl, and I’ll let you take my cock in that sassy little mouth on the drive home.”
I shiver. “Okay. I promise to be good.”