Chapter 34
MAYA
Sofia's oxygen levels have been stable for two days straight, and the NICU nurses keep saying it's remarkable progress for a thirty-two-weeker. I'm starting to believe them, starting to let myself hope.
Emma's home now. Doctor's orders to rest and recover while Chase handles most of the hospital visits. She's supposed to be sleeping, but I know she's not. I can hear her moving around upstairs.
I'm in the living room with Ethan, building a tower of blocks that he immediately destroys with gleeful abandon. He's been confused about Sofia, keeps asking when his baby sister is coming home, why Mommy cries so much, and why everyone's always at the hospital.
"Cookie!" He holds up a block like it's food, then pretends to eat it.
"Not a cookie, buddy. That's a block."
"Block cookie!" He giggles and crashes the tower again.
I'm exhausted, splitting time between the NICU, helping with Ethan, and trying not to fall apart every time I think about Jackson losing his captaincy—the one thing that defined him for years.
The pendant rests against my sternum, warm from my skin. I've been wearing it openly the past few days, forgetting to hide it in the chaos of Sofia's birth and the sleepless nights. Emma hasn't noticed; she's been too focused on her daughter.
Chase is at the hospital now. Jackson's at practice. It’s his first full week back with the team. Everything's slowly returning to normal.
Except nothing's normal. Not really.
Ethan knocks over the tower again, laughing. I start rebuilding, and he reaches for my neck with chubby fingers.
"Doggy!" He points at the pendant, eyes wide with recognition.
"It's a wolf, actually..."
"Uncle Jack’s doggy!" He touches it, fascinated. "Why do you have his doggy?"
My hands freeze mid-block.
The pendant. He recognizes it. Of course he does. Jackson probably showed it to him a hundred times, let him play with it, and told him stories about the wolf and the family legacy.
"I..."
"What?"
Emma's voice comes from the doorway. I glance up. She's standing there in pajamas, hair tied back, shadows under her eyes. She looks wiped out—postpartum exhaustion written all over her face—and she's staring straight at the pendant around my neck.
The one she recognizes instantly.
"That's our father's." Her voice is quiet, dangerously quiet. "Why are you wearing it?"
I can't speak, can't move, can't breathe. My hand instinctively goes to the pendant like I can hide it now, like it's not too late.
Ethan, oblivious, keeps playing with his blocks. "Uncle Jack doggy!"
Emma takes a step closer, her eyes never leaving the silver wolf. "Maya. Why are you wearing my father's pendant?"
"Emma..."
"Jackson gave that to you." Not a question, a realization. Her eyes widen, then narrow as the pieces click into place. "You and Jackson."
"Emma, I can explain..."
"How long?" She's not yelling, and that's worse. "How long have you been seeing my brother?"
I stand, legs shaking. "Since December. But we were sleeping together before then."
"Before December." She's doing the math, and I can see the moment it clicks. "November? You've been fucking my brother since November and didn't tell me?"
"Mommy said a bad word!" Ethan announces cheerfully.
"Emma, please..."
"I'm your best friend!" Now she's yelling, her voice cracking. Ethan looks up, startled. "I'm your best friend, and you've been lying to me for months?"
"We didn't want to stress you out..."
"So you lied instead? That's better?" She's shaking, her whole body trembling with anger and betrayal. "I've been pregnant, terrified, my daughter was born two months early, and you've been lying to my face this entire time?"
"I'm sorry..."
"You're sorry?" She laughs, sharp and bitter. "You're wearing my father's pendant. Do you know what that means? Jackson doesn't give that to just anyone; he was supposed to give that to..." She stops and stares at me. "He loves you."
I can't lie anymore. "Yes."
"And you love him."
"Yes."
"How long?"
The question hangs in the air between us. "Since I was eighteen."
She staggers back like I hit her, one hand going to the wall for support. "Eighteen. You've been in love with my brother since you were eighteen and never said anything?"
"You're my best friend, he's your brother. I didn't want to..."
"To what? Trust me? Talk to me? Let me be part of your life?"
"Emma, it's not like that..."
"Then what is it like, Maya? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you and Jackson decided I couldn't handle the truth, like I'm too fragile or too stupid to know what's happening in my own house."
Ethan starts whimpering, picking up on the tension. "Mommy mad?"
The front door opens. Jackson walks in, gym bag over his shoulder, sweaty from practice. He sees Emma's face, sees me frozen in the living room, sees the pendant visible against my shirt.
"Fuck."
Emma whirls on him. "You gave it to her."
"Emma..."
"You gave her Dad's pendant and didn't tell me?" Her voice cracks, tears streaming down her face. "That pendant is supposed to go to the person you love most, that's what Mom said, that's what Dad would have wanted. And you gave it to Maya and lied about it for months?"
"I didn't lie..."
"You just didn't tell me? That's the same thing! I'm your sister, she's my best friend. And you both decided I couldn't know?"
Jackson drops his bag and moves toward her cautiously. "We were going to tell you. After..."
"After? After what? After you proposed? After you got married? When exactly were you planning to let me in on this?"
"We were going to tell you after the playoffs, but then we decided to do it before they started, and then.
.." He trails off, running a hand through his hair.
"Everything with the arrest happened, and you went into early labor, and it just—we both forgot.
I know that sounds like bullshit, but it's the truth. "
"So you thought lying was better?" She wipes her eyes.
"I've been watching you two dance around each other for months, the looks, the tension, the way you can't be in the same room without gravitating toward each other.
I thought I was going crazy. Turns out I was just being lied to.
" She lets out a bitter laugh. "And yeah, I get it, life gets in the way.
Things happen. But you had months before any of that to tell me. Months. You just chose not to."
"Mommy crying!" Ethan's face crumples. "Mommy sad!"
"Emma, please..." I try.
"No." She holds up a hand, stopping me. "I don't want to hear it. Not from either of you."
She storms upstairs. A door slams. Ethan bursts into tears, scared by the yelling and the anger and the way everything feels wrong.
Jackson moves to comfort him, picking him up. "Hey, hey. It's okay, buddy. Mom's just upset."
"Mommy mad! Mommy crying!" Ethan sobs against Jackson's shoulder.
"I know, she'll be okay." Jackson bounces him gently, making soothing sounds.
I stand here, pendant heavy against my chest, feeling like I'm drowning in the consequences of our choices.
Jackson looks at me over Ethan's head, his face devastated.
"She hates us," I whisper.
"She doesn't hate us, she's hurt."
"Same thing."
"No, it's not." He continues to bounce Ethan. "We’ll let her calm down, then we’ll speak to her and fix this.”
"How? We lied for months, Jackson. We lied to her while she was pregnant, while she was terrified about Sofia, while she..."
"I know." His voice is rough, strained. "I know what we did. But we're not giving up, not on her, not on each other."
Ethan's crying subsides into hiccups. "Want Mommy."
"Soon, buddy. Let's give Mom a minute, okay?" Jackson sets him down with his blocks, then crosses to me and takes my hands.
"We're in this together," he says. "Whatever happens with Emma, we face it together. Okay?"
I nod even though I feel like I'm going to be sick.
Upstairs, I hear Emma crying, the sound muffled but unmistakable. It breaks something in me.
"I need to go talk to her."
"Maya..."
"She's my best friend, I need to try."
He squeezes my hands, then lets go. "Okay. But if she kicks you out, I'm going with you."
"You can't leave Emma right now..."
"I mean it." His eyes are fierce, protective. "We're together. If she can't handle that, then we'll figure it out."
I kiss him quickly, then head upstairs, my heart pounding.
Emma's door is closed. I knock softly.
"Go away."
"Emma, please."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Silence stretches between us. Then: "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I was scared. I didn't know how to tell you. And I thought..." My voice cracks. "I thought if you knew, everything would change."
The door opens. Emma's face is blotchy, her eyes swollen. She looks at me for a long moment, then shakes her head. "I don't want to be mad at you. I don't. But I am." Her voice breaks. "You're supposed to be my best friend."
"I am..."
She wipes her face roughly. "I've been watching you two for months, thinking I was imagining things, and the whole time you were just—"
"We were going to tell you. We were. But we were scared, and then we finally decided when we'd do it and—"
"I know." She cuts me off. "I know things got crazy. But that doesn't change the fact that you lied."
I don't have a reply for that. She's right.
Emma leans against the doorframe, exhausted. "My daughter's in the NICU. My body's a wreck. And now this." She shakes her head. "I can't process this right now. My head's all over the place, and I don't—I don't want to say something I'll regret."
"Emma—"
"I need time. Please."
The door closes. Not a slam, just a quiet click that somehow feels worse.
I stand here for a second, the pendant heavy around my neck.
Jackson's waiting downstairs with Ethan on his hip. He takes one look at my face and doesn't ask.
"She needs time," I say.
He nods slowly. Ethan reaches for me, and I take him, holding him close while Jackson wraps an arm around both of us.
"Auntie Maya sad?" Ethan pats my cheek. "No cry."
I press my face into his hair and try to breathe. The house that's felt like home for months suddenly feels fragile, like we're standing on cracked ice waiting for it to give.