closed my eyes, I saw the horror on her face as Benji outed her news publicly … she’d been humiliated and scared. Scared. Was fear her reason?
“The difference is intent.” Quinn had never sounded more like Dad in all his life. “Was her intent to hurt you, or was her intent to protect her privacy?”
He was making far too much sense, especially knowing what I knew about her. Kandra was a private person and often suffered in silence. “She hasn’t even told her mom she’s pregnant.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “And you’re still worried this was some nefarious plot against you? Did you ask her why she didn’t tell anyone?”
I nodded, then amended the action with words. “I asked her why she didn’t tell me.”
He shook his head. “You can’t make this about you. Did you know the first trimester is the trickiest?” He shrugged. “That’s what I read today when I googled why people don’t tell others they are pregnant. That thing they call the internet is a marvelous resource. If you have any intention to fix this, then it has to be about her.”
Did I want to fix it? “I can’t live with someone who keeps secrets like this.”
“Did you trust her with everything?” he asked, fixing me with a stare that told me what he was really asking. Initially, I hadn’t told her about Dad’s death. The timing wasn’t right.
I shook my head. “But that’s different.”
He crossed his arms and sat back. “How so?”
“I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. Things had started out rocky when she first got back to town.”
My words clicked. I had my reasons for not telling her my father had passed away while she was gone. She had her reasons for not telling me she was pregnant when she got back. Maybe they weren’t the same situation, but Dad would have told me to find out the reason first. He’d always been fair, and he said intent meant everything. If her purpose wasn’t to deceive me, but to protect herself, could I be mad at her? Was I the asshole?
“I don’t know how to make this better.” I glanced at Quinn and lifted my shoulders a few inches.
“Start with an apology.” Quinn’s words brought up my hackles, but before I could speak, he held up a hand. The coffee maker sputtered and hissed, a sure signal it was finished, but I made no move for cups as I stared at my brother.
“She needs support. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through right now.” His words weren’t accusatory, but sincere. “Imagine losing your career through no fault of your own, getting knocked up and dumped, then coming home with a secret. Then imagine being publicly humiliated, dumped again, and having a whole town gossiping about you.” His gaze met mine, and I knew he was right. “She didn’t even tell her family.” He stood up and moved toward the cabinet. I watched him grab two mugs and pour the coffee as he gave me the side-eye. “And you made it all about you.”
He shook his head and put the mug on the counter. The steel-gray stoneware clinked on the granite, the small sound like a gunshot, and I recoiled. As he filled the second cup, I tried to face the guilt flooding me.
“What would Dad have done?”
He glanced at me. “Well, he wouldn’t have broken up with her.”
“Thanks.” At least he was helpful.
“I think, if it were Mom, he would have done anything to win her back, no matter what it took.” Quinn shrugged.
“I don’t know how to win her back.” I screwed up. In truth, I didn’t really give a damn if she was pregnant. The only part of it that bothered me was the secrecy. If I removed my hurt feelings and looked at things objectively, I realized it wasn’t about me. It was just like Quinn had said, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of saying he was right.
Quinn put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a serious stare. “I wish I could help, but I’m shit with women, and this seems like it needs more than flowers, chocolate, or a card.” He tilted his head. “Maybe flowers, chocolate, and a card could help. Is there a ‘sorry I’m an asshole’ card?”
His dumb schemes gave me an idea. “I think I know what to do,” I said.
“Oh, great, if you’re going with my idea, you’re totally doomed.” He picked up one