Page 52 of Even if It Hurts

“Lainey—”

“Goodbye, Jackson.”

“Your dad’s dying.”

Running into a brick wall would’ve had the same effect as his words because there was instant pain and confusion, and I stopped so abruptly, I rocked backward.

My head shook slowly before I looked over my shoulder at where Jackson stood just behind me, reaching for me. “No, he—what?”

Remorse and compassion shifted his features, making him look so much like the Jackson I’d known and loved before. “I’m sorry,” he began softly, and those hushed words had my shoulders sagging and my bag falling to the floor. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t wanna be the one to tell you.”

“Wait . . . justwhat?”

“That’s partly why everyone’s so frustrated with this—with you,” he explained, then hurried to continue. “You were always meant to take over one day, Lainey. We were meant to take over and combine things. But with your dad being sick, everything’s being pushed up faster than we ever planned. They need you to take over now, and suddenly you want nothing to do with the farm.”

My head moved in quick, sharp jerks as denial and sadness sliced through me so slowly, so painfully. “What do you mean he’ssick?”

Jackson quickly pulled me into his arms and hushed me when my words came out too loud. “Wren doesn’t know.”

“But you do?” I cried out before demanding, “Wait, how long have you known?”

He worked his jaw before admitting, “Last summer.”

His confession was nothing less than a hit to the gut, and even though I weakly pushed him away, he held me closer. “You’ve known my dad was sick—that he’sdying—for a year, and you never said a word? And you’ve been making me feel like the worst kind of person for not telling you what I was studying?” A choked sob escaped me. “Are you serious, Jackson?”

“I’m sorry. Lainey, I’m so sorry about your dad,” he said softly as if trying to remind me to lower my voice, then started pulling me from my room. “But let’s talk about this somewhere else.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said through the emotion clogging my throat. Ripping my arm from his grasp, I snatched my bag from the floor, then pointed at him with a shaky finger and seethed, “I would’ve never kept anything likethisfrom you,” before stalking past him and through the house, nearly missing where my mom was watching me.

I slowly twisted to face where she was leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, tears slipping down her cheeks, and asked, “Was he telling the truth? Is Dad dying?”

Her eyes quickly bounced between the hall, Jackson, and me a few times, worry lining her face as she subtly nodded. “He isn’t ready for you girls to know yet.”

Bitterness bled from me on a laugh. “But Jackson can know for a year before telling me?”

“Lainey,” she murmured, the reprimand clear despite her overwhelming sadness. “Now you see,” she began when I started for the door again. “You see why that childish job and dream of yours was hurting the family so much. Your daddy’s waiting foryou to take over so he can rest, and you weren’t helping anything—especially his condition—by refusing to.”

My eyes burned and vision blurred at her callous words. “That isn’t fair.”

“What’s fair about any of this?” she challenged, the words warped from her tears. “You were supposed to step up and take over, so step up.”

“I never wanted to,” I cried out, gesturing from my chest to the door. “What about Wren? Why does it have to be me?”

“Wren?” Dull amusement twisted my sister’s name. “That girl has never been committed to anything in her life; she wouldn’t be able to run this farm for more than an hour.”

“You don’t know that; she loves those fields more than I ever did.” When it looked like my mom was going to argue, I hurried to say, “Anyone.Anyonewould be better than me because I don’t want this.”

“Stop being so selfish,” Mom snapped. “The farm and business have been in this family for generations, and they’re gonna stay that way. Now”—she gestured between Jackson and me—“once the two of you settle your business, go out to the fields and have a chat with your daddy.”

It only took a second to realize whatbusinessshe meant, and it had me recoiling from both her and Jackson. I hated how the topic of my engagement had gone from something that’d been talked about with excitement and wonder to exactly that: a business transaction.

Seriously, when had I gone from their daughter—from Jackson’s adored girlfriend—to a pawn to all of them?

“Jackson and I no longer have business,” I muttered and ignored the way his expression fell at my implication. “And I’ll talk to Dad after I’ve had time to think.”

“Lainey Ray,” my mom snapped, horrified. “How can you be so cold and uncaring as to just leave your daddy when he needs you the most?”

“He didn’t tell me!” I yelled. “He didn’t want me to know—hestill doesn’t. And if he can’t tell his daughters, then I deserve at least a day to come to terms with something I only know about because Jackson used it as a way to pressure me into marrying him.”

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