Page 154 of California Wild

“Jesse, please.”

So he exhaled, fingers brushing slow lines over her back, and he started.

“Well, you already know my dad was Navy,” he said quietly. “Like full lifer. Overseas half the time. And when he was home…” Jesse swallowed. “He wasn’t the kind of man you wanted around.”

Hayley didn’t say a word. Just listened. The kind of listening that made the air feel holy.

“He fucked around a lot. Got my mom pregnant after a party. She was nineteen. He was twenty-five. It wasn’t love. It was alcohol and mistakes. But she kept me. Married him. Thought maybe he’d change.”

He felt her inhale against him, slow and soft. Still listening.

“He didn’t.” Jesse’s voice dropped. “He was angry. Always. Like something inside him never shut off. I grew up watching him smash holes in walls, scream at my mom, drink until the bottle cracked in his hand. My mom tried to pretend it wasn’t that bad. Until it got… worse.”

Jesse blinked into the darkness, his chest tight.

“I was thirteen. It was late. Heard her scream from the kitchen. I got up, ran in. He had her by the throat against the cabinets.” His hand paused against Hayley’s spine. “I thought he was gonna kill her.”

She stiffened slightly, then curled tighter around him.

“I called 911. Didn’t think—just did it. Got between them. Tried to pull him off her.”

His knuckles itched like the memory still lived in the bone.

“He beat the shit out of me. Belt. Fists. Whatever he could reach. Busted my jaw. Split my head. Left a boot print on my ribs. He would have finished me if the sirens hadn’t of came close.”

Hayley’s hand found his, laced their fingers together. No words. Just her grip. Steady. Fierce.

“He left before the cops came. Disappeared. My mom wouldn’t talk, wouldn’t press charges. Said it was a ‘family matter.’” Jesse’s voice cracked for the first time. “And I just… couldn’t understand. I’d protected her. Protected my little brother. I thought it meant something.”

Hayley shifted, lifting her head just enough to look at him. Her eyes were already full of tears.

“I didn’t talk about it for years. Not even to my brother. I just—shut it all down. Told myself I’d never be like him. Never be a husband. Never be a father.” His throat bobbed. “Because what if that shit’s in me too?”

Silence.

And then—

“You’re not him,” Hayley whispered, her voice thick. “You’re nothing like him, Jesse.”

He looked at her, heart breaking open in slow motion.

“I’ve been so scared,” she confessed. “So scared that I’m going to do this wrong. That I’ll mess it all up. That I’ll be alone with this baby and I won’t be enough.”

She pressed her hand between them—over her belly.

“I don’t want to do this alone,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to be scared every day either.”

He reached down, covering her hand with his.

“Hayley,” he said, rough and real, “you are the last person who should be scared. Everything feels like a mess—but you’re not. Not really. You’re wildly successful. Talented. Gorgeous. Brilliant. You have life at your feet.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away.

Jesse slid his hand down to her stomach, slow and reverent, like he was seeing it for the first time.

“That’s ours,” he whispered. “Our second chance. Our start-over.”

She nodded, curling into him again, her palm over his heart.

---