Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Hailey
The No-Trade Clause
I should’ve known better than to think I could sneak out for a chai latte without consequences.
It was Leif’s day off and since he has nothing to do, he has been hovering all morning—offering food, tracking my hydration like a man who took a health and wellness seminar way too seriously—so I figured a quick walk to my favorite café would clear my head. A little fresh air, a latte that isn’t turmeric-based, maybe even a moment to process what Aspen offered me last night—becoming a producer for her next gig.
But no.
Because the second I step into the coffee shop, my phone vibrates violently in my pocket.
Jules: Turn around, coward.
My stomach drops.
And before I can even pretend I didn’t see the text, I hear her voice.
“You’re seriously hiding from me?”
I freeze. Then, very slowly, I turn around.
Jules stands there, arms crossed, expression hovering somewhere between You absolute bitch and I love you, but you are testing my patience. Her eyebrows—which she 100% inherited from our mother—are doing that thing where they arch in unison, a silent promise of impending judgment.
This makes me miss Mom, but thankfully, I control the waterworks. I’m getting good at that—not crying every five fucking minutes.
I try for nonchalance. “I wasn’t hiding.”
She scoffs. “Oh, really? Because I texted you three days ago, and instead of calling me back like a normal person, you left me on read.”
I shift on my feet. “I was busy.”
Jules’s eyes narrow. “Busy doing what? Pretending you’re still in . . . I can’t even remember where you were the last time we talked. It’s been months of you only sending texts and being vague. If I hadn’t seen you on the train a week or so ago, I wouldn’t even know you’re back.”
“Things are complicated,” I confess.
“Is this your way of saying, ‘Leif and I are dating, but I’m in denial?’” she asks, and maybe I should have grabbed onto that semi-truth.
Are we dating? Lightly. To save me some time, I move my purse from my belly to fetch my wallet and ask, “Why don’t I get you something to drink?”
“Oh my fucking God, are you pregnant, Hailey Jean?” she shrieks.
“Can you shout that louder? I don’t think they were able to listen to you in Alaska,” I huff.
“How far along are you?” she asks.
“Can we not do this now?”
She steps closer, voice dropping. “How long were you planning on keeping this from me?”
I blow out a breath. “It’s not like that.”
“Then explain what it is like, Hailey.” She glares at my little pouch as if it has done something to her—which, nope.
“I was going to tell you,” I interrupt, voice tight.
Jules gives me the look. The one that says, You’re full of shit.
I stare at the counter, suddenly feeling very small. “I just . . . wasn’t ready.”
Jules exhales sharply. “Hailey, do you even hear yourself? I’m your sister. We tell each other things. And you—” She pauses, her voice softening. “Leif knocked you up and you didn’t even tell me you two are together?”
The knot in my chest tightens. Oh my God, do I tell her everything? I’m not ready, but if I don’t tell her and it comes up later . . . this is Sophie’s choice, isn’t it?
“Does his family know that you two are expecting?” she asks.
My stomach flips. “What?”
“The Crawfords.” She steps back to let a person come through and then continues. “I know the answer, of course they know. You choose them over us all the time. You told them, but you couldn’t even tell your own family?”
My throat constricts. “It’s different.”
“How?”
“Because they want to be here.” The words spill out before I can stop them, raw and way too honest.
Jules blinks, caught off guard. “And we don’t?”
This . . . I’m not ready for this conversation. I press my fingers to my temples. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
I swallow hard. “I didn’t want to deal with the questions. Or the judgment. Or Dad’s inevitable ‘I told you so.’” My voice drops. “I didn’t want to hear that I ruined my life.”
Jules’s face softens. “Hailey?—”
“I just—” I take a shaky breath. “I was scared, okay? Of what all of you would think. Of how everyone would react. I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Jules studies me for a long moment. Then, finally, she shakes her head.
“You’re so stupid.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
She leans forward, pressing a hand over mine. “You’re my sister. This is your life. And yeah, Dad might have opinions with a capital O, but that doesn’t mean you have to carry them like a freaking burden.”
I let out a weak laugh. “That’s easy for you to say. He doesn’t hate you.”
“Dad doesn’t?—”
“He does,” I argue. “It’s because of me that?—”
“That was an accident,” she interrupts me.
“I know that, but he doesn’t. I’ve heard him tell the story so many times. If Hailey hadn’t?—”
“Like I told him the last time I heard him complain about that, it was a fucking accident. You were a child and he has to deal with his grief like a fucking adult.” She pauses, taking a deep breath. “You have to work on that, if not for you, for your baby.”
“You don’t blame me?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I would never do that. I hated that our father dropped us off at our grandparents’ because he didn’t know what to do with us, because Mom was the only one who cared for their children. Still, he made you feel like rejecting us was all your fault.”
“It was?—”
“It wasn’t, but I understand why you chose Leif and his family over us. They gave you the attention we couldn’t give you,” she concludes. “Though I thought you were over your issues. That we were close enough that you’d come to me if . . . Hailey, you’re pregnant for fuck’s sake.”
I don’t know how to answer her.
Her eyes soften. “But the most important question is, you’re happy with the baby, right?”
I swallow hard. “I think so.”
She squeezes my hand. “You know so.” Then she tilts toward the exit. “Why don’t we go for ice cream? Seems like a better way to celebrate my favorite niece, or nephew.”
And just like that, the stress of having to tell my sister is gone. There are still things I have to discuss with her, but that’s something for a later day. When I’m ready.