Chapter 11 #2
“You’re right, but you’re also wrong. In a relationship, there’s a balance.
It’s part of your job, but also the other person’s job.
If there’s no communication to say hey, I’m unhappy about this, or hey, I need more or else of this, you can’t really know.
You can do your best, read between the lines, but when you add in being young parents, trying to keep a whole human alive, no one can expect you just to know, you know? ”
In that moment, I wonder if maybe she knows more about Kim and why she left than she lets on, or maybe if it’s just Hallie’s way—her innate ability to read me and know me, for better or worse.
But the truth is, I’ve never told anyone the full details of Emma’s mom leaving. My family knows I came home after a day on the farm to Emma crying in her crib and Kim telling me her things were loaded in the car and she was leaving. But they don’t know the rest.
No one knows she left because I wasn’t there for her, that I was too caught up in trying to create some idealistic family for Emma, to create what I had growing up for my daughter, to realize she was slowly dying inside, and it was all my fault.
“You plugged me into the life you wanted, making me play house in a family I never asked for. You never asked me what I wanted. You stole my dreams and expected me just to live yours,” she shouted at me when I asked her what was going on and where she was going.
And she was right: the truth of the matter is, from the moment I found out she was pregnant, I pushed Kim into a corner until she couldn’t do it anymore and left for good.
That day, I begged her to stay, to talk to me, to give me a month or two of trying a new system where she’d have more time to herself, more time to chase whatever dreams she felt she’d given up.
I begged her to try therapy or a new schedule or anything other than just giving up, and I watched her taillights drive off not long after.
As I held a crying Emma, I was also trying to keep it together, not because I missed Kim—who had been a one-night stand turned into more than either of us bargained for—but because I felt so lost and terrified. That’s when I vowed I’d never put either of us in this situation again.
The closest I’d gotten since the day Kim left was the night in Vermont. The first time in eight years I’d felt willing to throw the promises I’d made to myself away, to give something more a try.
And look at how that turned out.
But I won’t be telling Hallie any of that, so instead I shrug and explain what I can.
“There are a lot of things I can’t control, especially in the situation Emma and I are in, where there’s a second parent whom I genuinely have no control over.
But I can control who I bring into her life, so that’s what I do.
I can date when she’s out of my house and figure out what the rest of my life will look like then, but she’s my number one responsibility.
I won’t bring in a revolving door of women, exposing her to relationships she may or may not get attached to, but I don’t know if they will actually last. She has enough instability in her life. ”
Silence lands between us after I speak, and even though I stand by my decisions, for some reason, her opinion matters to me.
I’ve told my parents and my sister, and even Madden, about this choice, and none of them understand.
All of them tell me I should date, should have “me” time.
My mom has even told me it would be good for Emma, but I’ve always stood firm.
I wait for the disappointment to wash over me when Hallie reacts similarly.
But, as always seems to be her way, she surprises me.
“No one’s going to tell you this, but I think you’re doing the right thing.”
I look at her with utter confusion, since she’s right: no one has ever told me that.
“I am?” I ask, and she smiles wide before I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “I mean, I know I am, but you think I am?”
She nods. “My dad had a few girlfriends when Colt and I were kids, and I hated all of them—the way they changed our family dynamic and our ways, even if it was just in small ways—but somehow, I hated them even more when they left. It was a lose-lose situation for me. I don’t know if there is a right answer, but I get it. I get what you’re going for.”
It’s another piece of evidence I don’t need to confirm just how much I like Hallie Young, even if she never will be mine. I sit back, letting her words sink in, spreading warmth to every part of me before I decide to change the subject, to shift the spotlight.
“What about you?”
“Me?”
I shouldn’t ask, but I can’t think of a better, more appropriate time to finally quell my intrigue, to appease this crush I seem to have on her.
“Yeah. Why don’t you have a man?” She looks at me like she’s trying to decide where to start, how to answer, or maybe even whether she should answer.
But eventually, I get too impatient and speak again.
“Is it because of Madden?” Silence hangs between us, this time different, this time weighed down with my anticipation of her answer.
When I look at her face, I expect to see nerves or embarrassment or even shyness written across her face, but I don’t. Instead, I see genuine confusion.
“Madden?” she asks, her voice rising with the single word.
“Well, yeah. You two are always very…close. I always thought you would…you know.”
A beat passes, and her mouth opens and closes a few times, her head tipping to the side and hair falling with it, draping over her shoulder as her brows furrow together. It’s like she’s trying to decode me and can’t quite do it.
“Are you trying to say you think I have a thing for Madden?”
“Well…” I hesitate, reading her face and seeing a spark of amusement there. “Not anymore?”
A beat passes before it happens: Hallie’s head tips back, her hair tumbles down, her face cracks in the hugest smile that I realize now she’d been holding in, and a full-chested laugh fills the room.
It goes on for a moment before the laughter slows, before her head lifts and she wipes a finger below her eyes, before waving her hands at them, fanning herself.
“Oh, god. That was good.”
“Are you telling me you don’t have a thing for Madden?”
“Hell no. I would rather chew a tire than date Madden. Have you ever seen us in a room together? I’m kinder to my own brother than I am to him. He drives me up a wall.” Another, smaller fit of laughs leaves her before she settles down, shaking her head. “Madden. That was good, Jesse.”
“Honestly, I don’t see why that’s so funny. You spend a lot of time with him. You flirt with him all the time. You two are always going back and forth—”
She shakes her head. “That’s not flirting, Jesse. I do all of those things with Colton, too.”
A moment passes before I think about how she acts with her brother, laughing and prodding, and I realize she’s…not wrong.
This reframes everything I thought I understood.
“I thought that’s what happened that night,” I say without meaning to. Suddenly, the room feels too warm, too stuffy, and Hallie too close as she looks at me with a mix of confusion and understanding. “In Vermont.”
My breathing stills in my lungs with my words and the way they spilled off my tongue.
We’ve never talked about that night, about the kiss, about her leaving, and honestly, I had planned to keep it that way.
But now I’m too tired and comfortable to stop, and honestly, I want to know what happened. It’s been eating at me ever since.
“I…” she says, then stops, her face suddenly stark and unmoving. “Jesse.”
“I figured that was why. That you realized that you’d kissed the wrong brother. You both were always, and you always seemed to have a thing for him, so the next day, when you avoided me and you were like glue on his side, I assumed that was why.”
She blinks once, twice, before a small smirk tips at the edge of her lips. “Well, for one, there was a girl he was avoiding who he had flirted with the night before, so I was trying to help him play defense.”
My head snaps back with confusion as I try to piece this new information into what I already know, and, surprisingly, it does fit.
I remember Madden flirting with a woman the night before for a bit and then saying something about trying to avoid her because she was far too intense for his taste, but the kiss with Hallie really threw me for a loop, and I completely forgot about it.
“And I was kind of avoiding you,” she adds.
My head snaps up at that, and I look at her. “What? Why?”
“Well, you see, the night before, I had gotten drunk and jumped the bones of my best friend’s hot older brother and then freaked out and ran away. That’s kind of…embarrassing?”
I don’t bother to tell her that I was the one who jumped her, more eager to focus on the important parts.
“So you didn’t avoid me because you regretted it?”
Again, her face shifts and changes. “I mean…”
Even with her words, a weight has lifted off my shoulders that I hadn’t realized had been settled there for nearly a year, and with it, I’m feeling more like joking, letting humor fill my words next as I mime a stake going into my heart.
“Oof, you really know how to make a guy feel better. Was the kiss really that bad?” My comic relief did what it was intended to, and Hallie smiles, pressing gently on my shoulder before shaking her head.
“Now you’re fishing for compliments. You know it was good.”
“But…?”
“But you’re Wren’s brother. That’s a line I can’t cross.
” My brow furrows, but she continues. “Wren is one of the most important people in my life. Honestly, your entire family is. I would never put that at risk by hooking up with you, even if that kiss was very, very good. It would never go anywhere, and even if we just hooked up for fun, it would give your sister ideas of grand white weddings and red-headed nieces and nephews. The reality would break her heart.” She says it so offhandedly, like it’s a funny joke she’s telling, but there’s a hint of seriousness to it that is unmistakable, a seriousness I can’t seem to touch.
I want to ask her why she would assume it would just be a hookup, but didn’t I just tell her that I don’t date?
That I won’t date at all until Emma’s out of school?
Now wouldn’t be the time to tell her that, for a moment, I had contemplated throwing that rule out the window for her.
Something tells me she wouldn’t be very receptive to that.
Still, I almost do.
I almost open my mouth to tell her that I would take the leap if she were the one doing it with me, but before I can, she lets out a fake yawn, then stands.
“Well, I should get headed home. You’ll be out early tomorrow, right?” She grabs the drink she barely sipped at and carries it to the kitchen, dumping it in the sink. “Would five be an okay time to get here?”
I blink at her, following behind her and trying to follow her train of thought.
“Oh, uh, yeah.” I take the now-empty bottle from her and place it on the counter to take outside tomorrow. “I’ll walk you home,” I say as she walks toward the mudroom, but her hair slides along her back as she shakes her head.
“No need.” I open my mouth to argue, but she stops me before I can.
“I don’t want to hear about your mom yelling at you—she would be okay with my walking the hundred yards home alone if it meant not leaving your sleeping child alone during a snowstorm.
” When she turns to grab her jacket and slide it on, I realize there’s a stubbornness on her face, and there’s no way I could talk her out of it, so I sigh and acquiesce.
“Fine. But text me when you get home. If not, I’m headed over there to check on you.” She nods, then reaches for the doorknob as she slips on her shoes. I should argue with her about it then, but before I can, she’s speaking, distracting me.
“And, Jesse?” she says when she turns the doorknob. “If I were to go for a King, it would absolutely be you.”
And then, before I can even think of something to say to that, she’s opening the door and offering me a quick good night! Then the door shuts. I stand there for a long minute, wondering what the hell that means, only snapping back to reality when my phone dings with a text.
Hallie
Home! No need to send the cavalry. Night, Jesse.
I clean up quickly, packing up the leftovers and putting the dishes in the dishwasher before getting ready for bed and setting my alarm for the crack of dawn.
But even though I’m exhausted, I lie in bed mentally replaying our conversation and, most importantly, those last few words until I fall asleep.