Chapter Twenty-Three - James
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
James
The house was quieter than usual that evening, the tension from dinner lingering like a shadow. Noah had been stomping around upstairs for the past hour, and James knew he couldn’t let it sit.
This was his fault, in a way. The weight in the house, the fractures—he’d caused them. And his son was caught in the fallout.
With a steadying breath, James knocked gently on Noah’s bedroom door.
“Go away,” came the muffled voice.
James ignored it, stepping inside.
Noah was sprawled on his bed, hoodie pulled halfway over his face, his phone in hand but clearly not paying attention to it.
James crossed the room slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Hey.” His voice was calm, but firm. “I get it. You’re mad. But we need to talk.”
Noah didn’t answer, but he shifted slightly, just enough for James to know he was listening.
“Look, what you said at dinner...I know you’re upset. But what you said to your mom wasn’t okay.”
Noah exhaled sharply, finally pushing the hoodie off his head. His face was tight, frustrated, but not as defensive as earlier.
“I know, okay? I get it .” He stared hard at the ceiling. “I’m just—” His voice dropped, cracking slightly. “I’m just scared, Dad.”
James’s heart clenched. He hadn’t expected that.
He leaned forward slightly. “Scared? Of what?”
Noah shrugged, voice quieter now. “Emily’s been talking about schools too . ” His hands fidgeted in his lap, restless. “And we...I love her, Dad. I really love her. But...what if she goes somewhere far? What if we break up? I thought we’d be together forever, like you and Mom. But now you and Mom—”
He stopped, his voice catching.
James’s stomach sank.
The fight. The distance. His betrayal.
It wasn’t just hurting Kate. It was reshaping the way their son saw love .
James cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully.
“Listen, Noah. I know this has been hard to watch. What’s happening between your mom and me...it’s complicated. And painful. But that doesn’t mean love isn’t real.”
Noah shook his head, eyes stormy. “But you guys were high school sweethearts. You were forever , right? And now you’re...this.”
James felt the sting of those words deep in his chest.
He nodded slowly.
“You’re right. We were young when we fell in love. Just like you and Emily. I love your mom, more than anything in this world. She’s...she’s the most important relationship I’ve ever had. Always will be.”
Noah’s face twisted in confusion, his voice rising.
“Then why are you fighting all the time? If you love her so much, why—”
James swallowed hard, the words bitter on his tongue.
“Because I made a mistake, Noah. A terrible mistake. And when you love someone that much, when you’ve built a life together—it hurts even worse when trust gets broken.”
Noah’s brows furrowed, lips pressing tightly together as his expression darkened.
“But...I thought you said she was overreacting,” he muttered, voice sharp with confusion.
James felt the words land like a blow to his chest. He closed his eyes briefly, then met his son’s gaze, no longer defensive—just honest.
“I was wrong,” he said quietly, voice heavy with regret. “She’s not overreacting. She’s hurt, Noah. And she has every right to feel that way. I did something I can’t take back, and it made her question everything we built together. Her feelings? They’re real. They’re honest. And I’m trying to take responsibility for that now.”
Noah’s expression softened slightly, but the tension lingered, the questions still behind his eyes.
James ran a hand through his hair and exhaled.
“I’m seeing a therapist,” he continued gently. “I’m working on myself, trying to figure out how to be better. Not just for her, but for you and Lily too. Because I let all of you down, and I’m not proud of it. But I’m trying. I won’t stop trying.”
Noah nodded slowly, looking down at his hands as if processing everything.
James hesitated for a beat before continuing, voice quieter now, the rawness still there but steadier.
“But love is real,” James continued, his gaze softening. “And when you find someone who makes you feel whole, like you can’t imagine life without them...that matters. I don’t know if you and Emily will stay together, get married, have kids. But I don’t know that you won’t either. I found my soulmate in high school. Maybe that’s the way of the Hayes men.”
The words hung there for a moment, fragile but honest.
Noah’s face softened, the defensiveness ebbing slightly.
James took a breath, then braced himself for what he knew needed to come next.
“But you’re young, Noah. And being in love doesn’t mean you stop being responsible.”
Noah blinked. “What—”
James raised a hand. “Let me finish. I’m going to give you condoms.”
“ DAD. ” Noah practically choked, sitting bolt upright, his face turning bright red. “Oh my God, no, please, can we not —”
James kept his expression calm, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
“Look, I know it’s awkward. But it’s important. I was eighteen when your mom got pregnant. And we wanted you. We love you. But it was hard, Noah. It was a choice we had to make at a really young age, and we gave up a lot of things for it. Things your mom never complained about, but they were still sacrifices. I don’t want Emily to have to make those choices at sixteen. And I don’t want you to, either.”
Noah’s face was still flushed with embarrassment and he wouldn’t meet James’s eyes. He nodded once.
“Yeah...okay. I get it.”
James exhaled slowly, relieved. But then, he softened, leaning forward.
“Listen. I know it feels overwhelming, thinking about the future. But you don’t have to have all the answers right now. You and Emily are figuring it out together, and that’s okay. Just...be careful. Be kind to her. And remember that being in love means respecting each other—completely.”
Noah nodded again, quieter now.
James hesitated, then added, “You’re a good kid, Noah. And you’ve got a good heart. I’m proud of you, okay? Even when we argue, even when things feel messy—you’re becoming the kind of man I’m proud to call my son.”
Noah’s face relaxed, and for the first time in a long while, his expression was open. Vulnerable.
“Thanks, Dad,” he mumbled.
James smiled softly, feeling the ache in his chest loosen, just a little.
They weren’t perfect.
But this moment—this connection—felt like a step.
And James was holding onto it with everything he had.
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James hesitated outside the guest room door, his hand hovering just above the wood. He could hear the soft scrape of a brush, the muted shuffle of her feet against the floor.
She was painting.
He knocked, once, and when there was no answer, he opened the door anyway.
Kate stood at the far end of the room, facing a half-finished canvas propped against the wall. The overhead light cast soft shadows along her figure, the curve of her back, the tension in her shoulders.
The painting was abstract—chaotic streaks of deep blues and muted grays, sharp lines cutting through softer strokes. It was beautiful. But unfinished.
Like them .
Kate didn’t turn. Her fingers clenched the brush too tightly, and he could see the way her knuckles blanched, as if she were trying to keep herself together with sheer force. The gold band of her wedding ring flashed as she adjusted her grip, the sight hitting him like a punch to the chest. She still wore it. After everything, she still wore it.
It made his chest ache, both with guilt and with a fragile hope he didn’t dare put into words.
“Kate.”
Her name felt fragile on his tongue.
Still, she didn’t look at him. But her posture shifted—tenser, more closed off.
He closed the door behind him, inhaling carefully before speaking again.
“I—” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “I know I never apologized the way I should have. About…everything. But especially what I said. About the money.”
The brush in her hand stilled.
James swallowed hard, stepping deeper into the room.
“I lashed out because I was scared, Kate. I was scared of losing you. And I thought if I reminded you how much you needed me, maybe you wouldn’t leave.”
Her shoulders stiffened.
She didn’t speak.
But he saw the way her breathing changed, how her chest lifted unevenly, the quiet crack in her armor.
James exhaled slowly, the ache twisting deeper in his chest.
“I know I hurt you,” he whispered. “I know I made you feel trapped. But I never— never —thought less of you because you weren’t the one bringing in a paycheck. I never valued your love, your care, our children less because you didn’t earn a salary. You built this family, Kate. I don’t know who I’d be without you. And I’m so ashamed that I made you feel like what you’ve given me, what you’ve given us , was less valuable than my paycheck.”
Silence.
The brush slipped from her fingers, landing against the drop cloth with a soft thud.
She was still facing the painting, but her hand came up to press against her stomach.
The baby.
Their baby.
Finally, she spoke, her voice so quiet it barely reached him.
“I never felt trapped. Not until you made me feel that way.”
James felt it like a blow—clean, direct.
But he didn’t flinch from it.
He deserved it.
“I know,” he whispered, stepping closer. Close enough now that he could see the tension trembling in her spine.
“And I’m sorry. Truly, Kate. I put the house in your name because I want you to know, no matter what happens—” His throat tightened, voice breaking. “If you leave me, I’ll still take care of you. Not because I have to. Because I want to. Because you’re the mother of my children. Because I love you. I love you enough to want you whole, even if it means you can’t be with me.”
The words hung between them.
And still, she didn’t turn.
But her breath hitched.
James closed his eyes briefly, hating himself for the way he had made her feel unsafe.
“Kate...you’re the love of my life. I don’t deserve you, I know that now. But I need you to know—more than anything—I will do better. I am doing better. For you. For the kids. For myself.”
At last, she shifted.
Her head tilted slightly, just enough for him to catch the edge of her profile, the sheen in her eyes that told him how much she was fighting to stay composed.
“But what if you’re not?” she whispered, voice breaking. “What if you say all the right things now, and then—years from now—I’m right back here? What if you break me again, James?”
The vulnerability in her voice crushed him.
And God, he understood it.
Because it wasn’t just words she needed.
It was proof.
He stepped even closer, gently, carefully, until he was just near enough to reach her—but didn’t.
“I won’t,” he said, voice hoarse. “I won’t ever stop trying, Kate. I can’t promise perfection. But I can promise you . That I will never stop putting you first. That your happiness means more to me than my own. And if—” His voice cracked, thick with emotion. “If you decide you need space...or if you decide you can’t do this anymore...I’ll respect that. Because I love you. Enough to let you go, if that’s what it takes for you to be whole again.”
She turned then.
Slowly, hesitantly, like she wasn’t sure if she could meet his gaze.
Her eyes were wet, shining with unshed tears.
And James knew—deep in his chest—that he had broken something so precious, so fragile. And he hated himself for that.