“What does that mean?” I ask.
He pushes his chair back and stands.
“Take it how you want,” he says. “But know one thing, Jess.”
His eyes lock on mine.
“I will not be a weekend dad.”
I sit there, stunned, as he walks out of the kitchen without another word.
“I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Simone says as I sit on her sofa with a glass of wine I haven’t touched.
She should be relaxing, focusing on herself and setting up the nursery, not dealing with my mess. But I didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“You didn’t see his face,” I whisper. “He looked at me like I was… nothing.”
She watches me thoughtfully; her arms crossed over her stomach.
“There wasn’t hate,” I continue. “There wasn’t even resentment. There was just… nothing. Like I was a stranger.”
Simone exhales slowly. “You can’t really blame him.”
I give her a tight, humorless smile. “No. I can’t.”
“Jess-”
“God,” I mutter, rubbing a hand over my eyes. “This is not how I expected him to react.”
She tilts her head. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I thought he’d yell. Scream. Cry. Something.”
Instead of that cold, quiet calm that scared me more than any shouting match ever could.
Simone leans forward. “You lied to him, Jess.”
I sit up straighter. “Why is everyone so stuck on that?”
Her eyebrows lift. “Are you serious right now?”
I stare at her. “Wait. Are you… mad at me?”
She lets out a sharp breath. “I’m not mad.”
I watch her warily, knowing she’s not done.
“I’m disappointed,” she corrects.
“What?” I huff.
“You lied,” she says bluntly. “Not only to him, but to everyone. I spent months worried about you, thinking you were the only one who got hurt in all of this.”
Her words sting. I deserve them to.
“I defended you,” she continues. “Every time Darren asked why I treated his brother like crap, I said it was because he hurt my friend.”
She shakes her head. “And the whole time you were sitting on this.”
