“And don’t talk about my husband like he’s worthless,” she continued.
Dad blinked. “Husband. Right...So the media wasn't fibbing or rumours”
She lifted her chin. “We’re married. Courthouse. Few months ago.”
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “It’s true.”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Dad’s voice rose. “You got married without even a word to your family?”
“It wasn’t about you,” Hadley said firmly. “It was about us. About committing to this baby.”
Dad’s face flushed deep red.
“You barely know him,” he snapped.
“I know him enough to choose him,” she lies. “And I know he’s trying. More than you give him credit for.”
I grabbed her hand. “We’re leaving.”
Mom stood quickly. “Calvin, please.... let’s talk this through. We can sit down and....”
“No,” I said, already guiding Hadley toward the hallway. “I’m done being dissected at your table.”
Instead of the front door, I pulled her toward the back stairs.
The old narrow staircase creaked under our weight as we climbed. Past the hallway lined with family photos. Past the landing where sixteen-year-old me used to sneak cigarettes out the window and pretend I hated everything.
I stopped in front of the navy door at the end.
My room.
I pushed it open and locked it behind us.
The smell hit instantly. Dust. Old fabric. Ghosts of teenage rebellion.
Posters still peeled at the corners. The same navy comforter stretched across the bed. The desk still scarred from years of carving band names into the wood when I should’ve been studying economics.
Hadley stood in the middle of the room, looking around quietly.
Waiting.
I slid down the door until I hit the floor, head falling back against the wood.
“He’s not wrong,” I muttered.
She didn’t answer. Just lowered herself beside me slowly, careful with her stomach.
“He’s right about some of it,” I continued. “I burned every safe bridge he built for me. I drink when everything gets too loud. I walk into rooms and feel like I’m one bad show away from losing everything.”
My chest tightened.
“And now there’s a baby… and I’m terrified I’m going to screw this up the same way I screw up everything else.”
The words tasted like rust.
Hadley reached for my hand. Pressed my palm against her belly.
A sharp kick answered.
