Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
THE RIGHT TIME
Griffin
By the time I walked through my front door, my tie was strangling me and the clink of champagne glasses still rattled in my skull. Sam’s smug laugh haunted me. So did the look on Jessa’s face when she realized I hadn’t defended her. I ached everywhere, deep in my bones.
Richard and Paris were on the couch, a movie on the screen.
He shut off the TV upon seeing me. “Is everything all right, Griff?”
I pulled the tie loose. “Fine.” The word came out rough, unconvincing.
“Theo’s been asleep for a while. I called my dad to come get me once Jessa came home.” Paris tilted her head. “But she’s been crying. I wasn’t sure if I should leave yet.”
My heart clenched. “I know.”
Richard nodded toward the hall as they put their jackets and shoes on. “She wouldn’t talk to us. I think she’s been packing. Is there anything I can do or anything you need?”
“No, thanks for being here for Theo.” I pulled a wad of money from my wallet and stuffed it into Paris’ hands. Her entire face lit up. Richard complained it was too much. I didn’t care and thanked them for being here again.
I left them to leave of their own accord and crossed down the hall. Step by step, my pulse beat faster. I checked on Theo first, softly opening the door. He snoozed away, oblivious to anything but whatever a little boy dreamt of. For a second, I’d trade places with him and his uncomplicated life.
Jessa’s door was half open. One of my suitcases sprawled on the bed, half full. She stood barefoot at the dresser in a T-shirt and leggings, folding a sweater with shaking hands.
“You’re packing?” I asked, my voice icy.
She didn’t look up. “The city lost its charm.”
I stepped in. She snatched her phone from the charger and moved toward the bathroom, thumbs flying.
“Don’t walk away from me,” I said. “Not without talking.”
She spun. Eyes red. “You mean like at the gala? When Sam was a complete asshole and you said nothing?”
“Sorry, but I was a little blindsided, Jess,” my voice raised, ugly and sharp.
Her phone disappeared into her pocket. Her palm went to her stomach—protective without thinking. That motion caught my attention. It wasn’t obvious, not really, but soon could be if she really was pregnant.
“Is it true?”
“I’m leaving,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because I can’t keep pretending this is all some controlled business arrangement, all neat and tidy for you as you like it.”
“What are you talking about?”
She laughed once, brittle, and kept packing. “It was an agreement. The lines were clearly drawn. But I can’t keep up the charade any longer.” Her voice cracked. “Life doesn’t give a damn about your perfectly laid plans.”
My throat went dry. “Just tell me if you’re pregnant.”
She hesitated, eyes glossy. “You don’t get to be angry about this. I didn’t plan for this to happen.” She lifted her chin, met my eyes, and spoke clearly, “Yes. I’m pregnant.”
The floor dropped out from under me upon hearing her confirm it.
For a long moment, I couldn’t breathe. My mouth was open, jaw on the floor, but no air came in or out. I couldn’t think. The only sound was my own pulse roaring in my ears.
Pregnant.
“With my child?” I rasped.
“What do you think? Of course.”
One amazing night came rushing back to me, where I let go of all control and let her in the door. “Holly Creek.”
“The day I first stepped foot here, I came to tell you. There has never been the right time.”
“Are you kidding me?” My voice cracked, a bitter laugh escaping. “And the right time was tonight? You could have pulled me aside any second of any day and told me this monumental news.”
“And you’d have put your life on hold to listen?
” Her face crumpled, tears escaping the corners of her eyes.
“Yes. That’s on me for not telling you right away.
But your life was like a speeding bullet train barreling through a mountain pass.
You needed a nanny fast. Theo desperately needed someone to pay attention to him.
You needed a fake fiancée. My pregnancy was the barrier that could make your train crash, so I kept moving the barrier, hoping there’d be a perfect time to tell you. ”
I swore under my breath and raked a hand through my hair. The logical part of me wanted to stop—to reach for her, say something human—but the hit came fast and hard.
For a single heartbeat, I saw a future, a family.
Then it vanished. Fear tore through the illusion—of headlines, the board, the IPO, the image I fought to control. And beneath it all, the older fears of marriage and divorce. Of failing. I’d sworn I’d never go there again.
Control. That was the only thing I had left. And Jessa had signed a contract. The businessman in me seized on it like a lifeline.
“Do you have any idea what this means?” I demanded. “We’re going public soon, and now this looks like—”
“You’re afraid a baby will make you look unstable? I thought you wanted to be the responsible family man?” She pulled on a sweatshirt.
“This wasn’t part of the deal we had!”
“Plans change, Griffin.”
“Not mine,” I snapped. “Not this close to everything I’ve worked for.”
She stared at me, eyes full of hurt. “Maybe you’re working for the wrong thing, and for all the wrong reasons.”
That landed hard. I stepped closer to her.
“Jess—”
“No, don’t,” she cried, hand up to stop my progress.
“You keep telling yourself this is business, I’m just a prop to fix your reputation, that Theo needed a nanny, you needed a fiancée for show—but you never once stopped to see what I needed.
You barely see what Theo needs. And now you’re standing here acting like a child we made together is an inconvenience. ”
“I am not. The news just came as a shock.”
“I see right through you.” She exhaled shakily, a hand again on her stomach. “You’re panicking. But this isn’t a crisis for you to manage. It’s a tiny miracle growing inside of me.”
Her words gutted me. But pride was a poison I’d swallowed too long to stop now. “You should’ve told me sooner,” I said coldly. “We could’ve… handled it.”
“Handled it?” she repeated, voice sharp. “Like a problem we make go away?”
I rushed to course correct. “No. I-I meant handled the logistics. We could have worked the pregnancy into our reason for marrying.”
“Convenient,” she said, chin trembling. “Not too late to staple a baby clause into the contract now?”
“I-I don’t know. I need time to think about things.”
She scoffed and zipped up the suitcase. “You know what hurts? I thought if I stayed and played fiancée long enough, maybe you’d actually fall for me.
That when I told you about the baby, you’d be happy, and choose to make something real between us instead.
” She swallowed. “I should never have believed in fairy tales.”
“I told you I won’t marry again.”
“And you didn’t want another child. Yes, I heard you.” She pulled the suitcase onto the floor and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “But I thought—despite everything—you might want to be a father again.”
She moved toward the door.
“Jessa—wait.” I caught her wrist. She pulled free.
“Let go.”
I chased her to the front door, surprised Theo didn’t wake. “I need you to stay. You need the money.”
“That’s what you think I care about most?”
“Christ, I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” she said. “You just didn’t expect a girl like me would walk away from the payout.”
Every fix-it instinct inside of me misfired. “Where are you going?”
“Sophie and Keaton’s for tonight.” Her voice was steel now.
“You’re walking out? You won’t even stay and try?”
“Give me one reason that isn’t based on money or perception.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came. The past hit me right in the face and blocked me from going any further.
“That’s what I thought.” Her face fell, eyes to the floor. “I’d like to see Theo again after school tomorrow before I leave. I’ll notify the nanny agency that the position has been vacated.”
The door slammed behind her. Her perfume lingered and wouldn’t let go, cruel punishment.
I stood there a long time, staring at the space she left, while her words burned a hole straight through me.
Not a crisis. A miracle.
I’d built empires out of strategy and ironclad terms. The IPO was to be the crown, the culmination of years of hard work—and if I didn’t lock every variable down, it all fell to pieces.
Jessa was the biggest and most unexpected variable I’d ever let into my life. And I just watched her walk right out of it.