Chapter 29

“So, that was it? You just drove away?”

Sienna sounds angry.

“I wanted to,” I admit. “I never wanted to talk to him again, let alone have the conversation I needed to have with him. But I couldn’t do it. The same thing that made me go there in the first place, knowing I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t give him a chance to—”

I couldn’t quite finish. I couldn’t quite name what it was I’d wanted Jack to do. Claim me. Claim us.

Even that afternoon, Gabe was there with me. I didn’t know his name yet. I hadn’t felt the softness of his skin or the clutch of his little mouth at my breast, I hadn’t giggled at his twisted syntax or cried because his case of the stomach flu hurt me, but he was already on board and part of how I thought of myself and my life. And even if I could have walked away from Jack and the sight of that scrap of emerald lace betrayal, I couldn’t deprive Jack and Gabe of each other without at least trying.

“I made it as far as the street and then I pulled back into the parking lot and got out of my car. I went upstairs and knocked on the door. He opened it. I was trying not to cry, and I guess that and my body language told him what he needed to know. He said, ‘You—saw her—leaving?’

“I nodded. And then I said, ‘Look, Jack, you don’t owe me anything. We didn’t promise each other anything. But I should tell you. I’m pregnant.”

“He said, ‘Shit.’ ”

It still felt like a body blow. I might have even winced in the retelling.

“That’s what he said?” Sienna screeches. “Oh, that—” She throws her arms up. “Jesus, Jack.”

“So I said, ‘I get that this isn’t in your plans. I get that fatherhood isn’t your thing.’

“ ‘If you didn’t believe me about that before, you should now,’ he said.

“I was having trouble talking by that point. I just wanted to get out of there. I said, ‘I just want you to know, I’m going to have the baby. And if you want—you’re welcome to be involved if you want. To whatever extent.’ ”

I have to pause to steady my breath. “He shrugged.”

Sienna closes her eyes.

“He said he’d give it some thought. Those were his exact words. ‘I’ll give it some thought.’ ”

It’s so quiet I can hear both of us breathing, my breath ragged from emotion.

“But—” Sienna opens her eyes. “You didn’t tell him you were in love with him. You didn’t tell him all those things about how you fit together and made each other better people—you didn’t say any of that.”

I shake my head.

“And you didn’t ask him if he’d slept with her. The woman. With the shoes and the bra.”

I understand what she’s driving at. She’s hopeful that this story I’m telling holds a secret, a revelation, a big misunderstanding that redeems her brother and, in the process, a relationship. But this isn’t that story. There’s no happily-ever-after in the story of me and Jack and Gabe.

I take a deep breath. “Yeah, I did. I told him to let me know what he came up with after ‘giving it some thought.’ And then I turned to let myself out. But at the last minute, I turned back. I said, ‘Did you have sex with her?’

“I didn’t want to ask it. I was ashamed of myself for cracking like that, for being pathetic and jealous. So of course, I did the worst possible thing. I started to cry.”

“Oh, Maddie,” Sienna says, and her eyes are bright with unshed tears.

“He got this look on his face, like—like—a trapped animal. He said, ‘Maddie. This is who I am. If it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. You know that, right? You’re really great, you really are, but I’m nobody’s father and nobody’s husband.’ ”

“Oh, Jack,” Sienna groans.

We sit for a moment in silence. I feel exhausted, spent, from telling the story. She has moved closer to the door and turned away from me, so I can see only half her face, in shadow.

When she turns back, her face is eager, almost desperate. She grabs my arm. “People change,” she whispers. “That was five years ago. He’s older. He’s wiser. Don’t you think it’s possible he’s a different man now?”

I get it. I get what she wants. For her brother, maybe even for me. What so many people want: love and trust. Family. Home.

I want it too. But…

I think about Lani and my jealousy.

I think about Mia’s skirt and Harris on his knees, about those moments when you stand in place and the whole world turns itself around you, so you lose your orientation and aren’t sure if the sky is even still up.

I think about Cora, watching her boyfriend swallow a stranger’s cock in their living room.

I put my hand over Sienna’s, touch her fingertips until they unfurl from my skin and I can draw my arm back. I wrap both my arms around myself for warmth. “That thing that Cora said. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Most of the time, I think it’s true. But not always. I think some people cheat for reasons and when those reasons aren’t true anymore, they stop. So—yeah, I mean, I think it’s possible. I think some people change. I even think Jack could change. I just—”

I gulp air. I think about the night that Mia came to the house, what Jack said to her, to himself: You idiot. It doesn’t matter if she forgives you. She’ll never trust you again.

“I just don’t think I can change.”