I heard my brother sigh, and I could picture him running a hand over his face.
“Because I don’t think he’s good enough for my little sister. I never did, even before I knew who you were. And I told him that, Morgan. I tried to talk him out of marrying you.”
I didn’t expect that.
I thought King liked me. He’d been great when he came to Rosewood and helped me get to New Orleans.
I swiped a tear away and King must have heard me sniffle.
“Morgan, don’t misunderstand. I love you. I loved you before I knew you were my sister. And I love Jude. He’s my best friend, but...”
I bit my lip, anxiously waiting for him to finish that sentence.
“He was fucking selfish. When he married you, when he left you.” He paused again before saying, “When he went back to you only to leave you again. And now you’re pregnant. And I get why you’re there. I know you want him to be in the baby’s life, but I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“I love him, King. I wish I didn’t. I wish I could walk away.”
Bailey would probably kick my ass if she heard me. She’d never let me get away with giving in so quickly.
“I understand that more than you know,” he said, and I thought about Grace. I’d talked with her a few times over the past few weeks since we met, and she told me about her relationship with King—how it started and where it was now. Despite what she did, you only needed to hear her talk about him to know how much she loved my brother.
“But you told Dad,” I whined.
King chuckled on the other end. “I did.”
“Think you’ll ever forgive him? Dad, I mean.”
King and I talked about our dad, about why he was so hurt by him. And he wasn’t angry that he hadn’t been a father to him. He was angry he hadn’t been a brother. I still hadn’t met my uncle Declan, but when I asked King why he wasn’t mad at him, he said...
“I was. I knocked him on his ass when I found out that he’d kept it all from me. But he’d always been there. He raised me when our parents died. He didn’t have to do that. He sacrificed his own happiness for me. Missed out on knowing his daughter. I owe him my life.”
I understood that. It was how I felt about both my parents. My dad could have walked away. Could have been absent and only sent money. My mom could have moved on, married someone else. Maybe someone who would have been a jerk to me. She could have had more kids and put me on the back burner.
Instead, they did everything they could to work together and raise me with love and attention. I didn’t want to disappoint my dad. I didn’t want him to be angry with me. But I also didn’t want him to hate Jude.
I stood in front of the mirror in my room and rubbed a hand over my rounded stomach. I was barely starting to show, and I couldn’t stop staring at the place where my baby was growing.
I also couldn’t stop thinking about the son I’d lost. Wondering what he would look like. What kind of personality he would have had. It was probably something I’d always wonder.
Something I’d never have the answer to.
I shook my head, trying to loosen the melancholy before it dug in too deep. I had some new mixtures to work on today. I’d ordered some new herbs, things I’d been afraid to work onbecause I couldn’t afford to waste time on lotions that wouldn’t work.
Now all I had was time.
My mother had left Cindy in charge, and I agreed with that decision. She had been invaluable as a manager. I’d spoken with her every day for the first two weeks I was in Louisiana, until she finally stopped answering my calls.
Now, I only called once a week, unless I was really stressed, but now she humored me.
I threw on a shirt and pulled sneakers on my feet. My back was starting to ache when I stood too long, and I immediately called Dr. Adams. He never made me feel like a crazy woman when I called about every twinge. He patiently answered my questions and reassured me everything was on track the way it should be.
Jude had been preoccupied lately. Even before he spoke to my father. He felt distant. He asked about the baby, and how I was feeling, but he wasn’t trying to win me back like King said.
He mostly ignored me.
I stepped out into the hall and realized why.
Jenna was coming out of his room, her hair disheveled, clutching her top against her breasts. The strap was broken, as if it had been ripped from her body.