Breaking Hearts
Page 22
The eight weeks she’d been a resident of the rehab had been the longest time she’d ever stayed, but once she finally faced her demons and committed herself, she didn’t want to leave until she was free of her addiction.
Trish tucked her medium-length bright red hair behind her ear and glided into the room. “Paul isn’t happy about postponing your record,” she said, referring to the CEO of Midland Records. “But I convinced him that you needed a break to get completely sober and to stay that way.”
Emily laid another T-shirt in the case. Her reason for being at Fernwood was no secret, but the only person outside of her doctors who knew about her pregnancy was Trish. After telling her, Emily asked her to convince her record company to push her production deadline to sometime in the future. “He doesn’t suspect anything, does he?”
Trish sat on the overstuffed chair in the corner of the modest room. “No. I made a convincing case about your wanting to finally quit the drugs. He’s not happy, but he’s also glad.”
Emily moved the suitcase off to the side and sat on the edge of the bed, facing Trish. “Has Fabian signed the divorce papers?”
“Yes. Reese is filing them today, in fact.” Reese Goodwin was a family friend and a Nashville divorce lawyer. “Your divorce should be final by the end of the month.”
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath full of relief. Although she hadn’t demanded anything of Fabian, she feared he’d delay signing the papers to end their ill-fated marriage. “Thank God.”
Trish leaned back in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. “When are you going to tell him about the baby?”
With a shrug, Emily stood, opened a dresser drawer, and pulled out a stack of bras. As she set them in her bag, she said, “I’ll set up a meeting with him sometime before I go home to Texas.”
She planned to get out of Nashville before she started showing. At almost four months pregnant, she knew she was on borrowed time.
“How do you think he’ll take the news?”
Emily went back to the drawer and took out a stack of panties. “Hopefully, he won’t take the news well and will leave me and my baby the hell alone.”
She swallowed at the thought of her baby never knowing her father like she hadn’t known Seth, but Fabian wasn’t a good man. Despite being nearly forty years old, he still partied too hard and didn’t take much seriously. He’d wasted most of his own fortune and a large portion of hers on fast cars, drugs, and lavish parties.
“He didn’t fight about selling the penthouse and the mansion?” Three months after they were married, Fabian talked her into moving out of her downtown craftsmen home she bought on her eighteenth birthday and into buying a twenty-million-dollar estate outside of Nashville. The place was too big and flashy and put a considerable dent into her savings. He’d convinced her by arguing that as two successful entertainers, they were expected to live in such extravagance. Besides, he swore he’d pay his share of the cost. Instead, he conned her into buying a penthouse in Manhattan. He spent a lot of time there, but she hated New York and preferred to live in Nashville.
“He wants the penthouse.” Trish pulled her iPad out of her purse. The woman never went anywhere without the thing. “But he’s okay with selling the Nashville property and letting you keep the money from the sale if he can keep the penthouse.”
“I’m glad he wants the penthouse so badly.” Emily closed her suitcase and smiled as she turned to face Trish with her hand over the slight swell of her belly. “Because then I have a bargaining chip to keep him away from us.”