“Yes,” Leslie added. “Please, don’t be mad. It’s clearly my fault. Don’t say divorce because surely Jason will get hurt. He loves you. He just cares for me and I don’t want to be the reason you’re getting a divorce.”
“Is that so? Then, tell me, why were you at the hotel together?”
His face froze, the deflection he had ready dying on his lips. Leslie shifted uneasily beside him, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
Jason’s silence spoke louder than words.
Leslie glanced between us, her lips parting as if to speak. “It’s because…” She hesitated, then blurted, “Jason was comforting me. My boyfriend broke up with me, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Comforting you?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “Why him, Leslie? Why not me? I’m supposed to be your sister.”
She avoided my gaze, her tone turning defensive. “You were busy,” she said quickly. “I didn’t want to bother you, and I was scared—”
“Scared of what?” I demanded.
Her mouth opened and closed, her face pale. “Scared of you. I thought you’d get mad if you found out…” She trailed off, her voice barely above a whisper. “That I’m pregnant.”