by Emma Nichols
“Do you have any proof that he's stepping out on you?”
It sounded stupid, but the first thing she thought of happened a few weeks ago. The small incident had bothered her since. “A while ago, he made me some cocoa. Not a big deal, but he said he would make it how I liked it—with one and a half cocoa packages so it'd be extra chocolatey.”
“And what's wrong with that?”
“I make my cocoa with exactly one packet. I put in less water.” She shook her head, thinking that maybe she was crazy for such a minor thing, but there were many little things like that. “He also mentioned a restaurant for lunch and said we had eaten there before. But we'd never been to that place.”
“A local restaurant?”
“Yes.”
Derrick's face pinched, and he looked deep in thought. “Has Braiden ever shared his location with you on his phone?”
Location? She’d bared her soul to him, and he wanted to talk about cell phones? “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
Derrick grabbed her phone and tapped the screen. “Really? Your passcode is your birthday?” he asked once he’d unlocked the device.
Not an ideal password, but memorable. “What are you doing?”
“Phones on the same plan have a hidden feature. If the phone is shared on the plan, you can see where it's been.” He stared at the device and kept tapping and swiping.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you can trace his phone and find out where he's been.” He glanced up. “Don't you want to know if he's really on a business trip?”
She leaned in and held her breath. She hoped to find the man in California now, working, and in the office working hard for the past several weeks—just as he had said.
What if it had all been a lie?
The nerves of her spine prickled. She needed to know.
Derrick read the display and then glanced up from the phone. His eyes held the bad news. “He's in town.”
“What?” Her heart pounded so fast that it threatened to explode from her chest. How could he be in town? He was traveling on a prolonged business trip.
He turned the phone around so she could read it. “Says his phone is near the corner of El Salado Parkway and Hunter's Ridge Drive.”
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Kacie couldn't breathe. Braiden had lied to her. He’d repeatedly lied to her.
“That's near Terrytown, the expensive suburb.” Derrick set the phone down. “Do you know who lives there?”
Fuck. Of course, she knew who lived there.
Braiden was having an affair with his assistant.
12
“Five years!”
She had given Braiden five years, and this was how he treated her?
Hell no.
“He's not coming back for a few days. By then, I'll have the locks changed and all his shit sent to Goodwill.” She paced the sidewalk in front of the Hilton, her high heels clacking with each heavy step. “I'll make him pay for this.”
She held the phone and took screenshots. “I can see his whereabouts for the last thirty days. I'm going to document each time he went to her house and 'worked late,’” she said, her voice mocking the last part of the sentence as though air quotes surrounded her words.
“Kacie, he's not worth it.”
Not worth it? Five frickin' years! “Derrick, I'm not going to let him get away with treating me like this.”
“Do you love him?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Are you in love with him?”
What the hell kind of a distinction was that? They’d dated for years. “We're engaged.” Her lungs couldn't fill with air, and she stopped pacing long enough to take some deep breaths.
Derrick placed his hand on her back. “Luv, are you in love with Braiden? Is he the man you think of all day long? The man you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
Her thoughts felt cloudy, and she couldn't concentrate. Of course, she loved Braiden. They had lived together for the past three years, they had bought furniture together, they had made vows that one day would be spoken at church with rings exchanged. “That's what being engaged and getting married means.”
“You're always in a more pleasant mood when he's not around.”
She glared at Derrick. “That's not true.”
“Kacie.”
She glanced away. It wasn't true. Sure, Braiden didn't understand her devotion to animals. He didn't understand her passion for her vet clinic. He didn't understand her need to have a career and do something meaningful.
But her mood wasn't better when he was gone. She worried about him and wanted him back home. Naturally, she could spend more time at the clinic with him away. The extra time gave her the opportunity to look into things like adoption days and the idea of creating a no–kill shelter. Days like that were important. It gave her a sense of purpose.
She liked the extra time, but it wasn't about Braiden. Hell, the man had only been to her vet clinic once in the last year. His presence there felt a bit awkward, but she’d wanted to introduce him to her limited staff and wanted to show him around the place before he needed to get back to work.
The clinic was her haven, her special place.
Just like the house was when he went out of town.
She needed something stronger to drink than wine.
It was true. Deep down, in the pit of her insecurities and self–doubt, a tiny girl screamed to get out. The little girl that was always last to be picked for a sports team, the child who always went to the school dances alone, the one who always settled yet wanted so much to be happy.
The little girl who one day wanted to be a successful career woman, a loving wife, and a dutiful mother.
It was the child inside of her who needed the truth. Needed to be loved.
That little–girl–turned–woman deserved to be happy.
And she was happier without Braiden.
“You are what I like to call a Little Sister. It's when a woman turns men into best friends, not boyfriends.”
“I'm not a Little Sister.”
“Sure you are. You were a Little Sister to Greg in high school, and you found me in college. You dish and share with the Big Brothers, but you don't date us.”
She did have a lot of male friends, but there were other issues, as well. “You're gay, Derrick.”
“And gay men have a lot of Little Sisters because we're safe. Greg was your neighbor growing up, the son of your mother's best friend if I remember correctly.”
“Yes.”
“So, he was safe, too. Trust me. I've seen this before.” He gazed hard into her eyes. “Have you ever dated a man you were friends with first?”
Her friendships with men—and there were many—were close, and she had always been too scared to lose the friendship. “Just because I've never dated a friend doesn't—”
“And your relationships with men have fallen short.” His voice softened, and he added, “Your relationships are missing the best part of you.” He held up his hands. “On one hand, you have the carefree, funny Kacie whom men love hanging out with. On the other hand, is the sexy woman.” He clapped them together. “You need all of you in a relationship. You keep yourself separated depending on the man and the category you’ve placed them in.”
Was it true? She and Braiden had met through a mutual friend and had become intimate almost immediately. The other two physical relationships in her life had been through a dating app. Quick. Convenient. Bland.
Comfort and being herself around the men hadn’t been part of the equation. Beautiful dresses, fancy restaurants, and pleasantries where she became who the men wanted her to be became the dating norm.
Her face flushed. None of her past loves had been friends. They weren't her go–to guys, they weren't her confidantes, they weren't even… A tightening in her gut made her feel queasy. They weren't people she had anything in common with. None of them had been soul mates.
/> She wanted a soul mate.
“Go after Greg. I saw the way he danced with you. That man loves you.”
13
“What do you want to do?” Derrick motioned back to the building. “We can go back in, we can call it a night or I can take you out somewhere else.”
Kacie stared at the hotel. The reunion didn't matter anymore.
Nothing mattered anymore.
Getting married. Having kids. Being happy. They were all ruined. Ruined because she wanted her bucket list of goals fulfilled so desperately that she’d become blind.
Her stomach twisted. Blind? She had suspected something was wrong with Braiden but had allowed herself to stay blissfully ignorant.
“Do you want to find Greg?” Derrick stared at her with a certain desperation that only a best friend wanting to make everything right could muster.
Greg dated Ashley. Kacie didn't need to see them together. The thought of them dancing, holding each other tightly, and kissing… no. She didn't need to see that.
“I'm going home.”
Derrick wrapped his arms around her. “Call me if you want. I can rush over and destroy Braiden's stuff with you. We can even plot some revenge.”
Kacie hugged him back, cherishing the warmth of his body and soul. “I know you're always there for me.” She pulled away. “I'll be fine. I just need to think.”
She wasn't sure what she would be thinking of. Braiden was history. That was a certainty. But she didn't know what to do. There were no overnight patients at her vet clinic, or she would go there.
Right now, she just wanted some ice cream and a bubble bath. She didn't want to think about anything.
She said goodbye to Derrick and walked the short distance to her car. Tomorrow was another day. She could think clearer tomorrow.
As she removed her keys from her purse, she heard a pained bark followed by a shuffling of leaves from the shadows. She turned her head toward the building and some bushes nearby.
She turned on her phone's flashlight and took a step closer to the shrubbery, reminding herself to be careful. A wounded animal could be dangerous.
Lying on the ground and pawing at his face was a tan animal. She couldn't make out exactly what it was, but she assumed it was a dog. “Come here, boy.”
The tan animal whined and inched closer, causing what she assumed to be a doggy sweater to get caught on several twigs.
“Baby, what's wrong?” She held out her hand, and the dog sniffed her. He took another step closer, and she realized he wore a costume. He looked like a tiny lion.
She touched his snout, and the dog winced. Tiny globs of glue held down stuck whiskers and matted fur. The animal sat and held up his covered paw to shake her hand.
And that's when she recognized him. It was Skipper.
Greg's dog, Skipper.
The wind was knocked out of her. This was one of her patients. “Skipper, who did this to you?”
Tugging at the costume, she realized it wouldn't come off. “I need to get you to the clinic. Come on, boy.”
From a distance, she heard, “Skipper!” She turned and saw Greg running toward her, followed by Ashley.
“Thank God you found him.” Greg got on one knee and patted his dog. “I was so worried about him.”
“Worried about him?” Ashley glared down at Greg. “He needs medical attention. He has glue in his eyes that needs to be washed out.”
Ashley walked up, slightly out of breath. “The dog is fine. He needs to make a dramatic entrance to the reunion. I even have an app on my phone that makes the sound of a lion roaring.”
Ashley was the last person Kacie wanted to see, especially with Greg. Everything Ashley had touched in high school ended up crap. She'd eventually bring out the stupidity and depravity in Greg if he were with her long enough. Too bad poor Skipper had to be around to see it.
Her jaw tightened, and she could barely look at Greg.
“The two of you are a pair.” Kacie unclipped the shoulder strap of her purse and fashioned a leash out of it. “Skipper needs medical attention. Now,” she said in a frosty, you're–such–a–dumbass tone.
“He needs to make an appearance at the reunion.” Ashley reached for the leash. “You can have him after that.”
Kacie's glare bounced from one moron to the other, settling on Greg. She knelt and began feeling the dog's stomach. “What kind of glue did you use?”
“I didn't use…” He stared at Ashley. “Fabric glue. I think.”
Kacie's fingers palpitated the dog's stomach. Thankfully, she didn't think the dog's gut was expanding with adhesive. “How much did you use?”
Greg glared at Ashley. “How much?”
“He wouldn't sit still. I think a full tube. Maybe a tube and a half.”
“What size, Ashley?” Kacie asked.
Ashley's finger and thumb spread into about a two–inch stretch. “A few ounces.”
Now checking Skipper's mouth, Kacie said, “I don't think he ate any. Just licked some. It's on his teeth and gums, but not in his gut.”
“That's good news.” Greg stroked Skipper’s head. “He's a good boy.”
“He's a mistreated boy.” Kacie shook her head. “How could you treat Skipper like this?”
Greg's eyes widened. “I had no idea Ashley was going to do this.”
Ashley now stood defiantly in front of Greg. “Sure you did. I told you about this, and you were fine with it.”
“What? Never.”
Daggers darted from Ashley's eyes. “Of course, you were. Last week, you said whatever I wanted to do was fine. Last night I told you that Lily and I had planned it all out.”
“That’s not what I… I didn't… You're crazy.”
“You're both crazy.” Kacie stepped away, tugging slightly on the leash and getting Skipper to follow. “I need to treat him.”
“But we need him to be our Royal Lion mascot.”
“Shut up, Ashley.” Greg stood taller. “We're done. Pack up your shit from the apartment and get out. I can't be with someone who could treat Skipper like this.”
14
Greg followed Kacie into the clinic and to one of the examination rooms. She turned on the light. “Put him on the table.”
“I swear I didn't know anything about the costume or Ashley's plans.” He got Skipper on the table and held him so he wouldn't fall, trying to soothe him as he did. “He gets nervous up here.”
She opened the outer door and walked down the short corridor, only to return a moment later. “This is Acepromazine,” she said, placing some into a syringe. “How much did he weigh last week?”
“Sixty pounds.”
She injected the dog. “I need him sedated but awake.”
“How can I help?”
“Here are scissors. Carefully cut what you can of the costume away. Be careful. Then, we'll need to bathe him.”
Greg watched as she expertly rinsed Skipper's eyes and removed the glue from his gums and teeth. She moved from one area of concern to the next, with several rounds of “you're a good boy, Skipper” said to comfort him.
She was an angel. Thoughtful. Loving. Nurturing. She knew what to say and said it in a soft, reassuring tone. Skipper laid down and allowed her to work her magic, trusting her completely.
And all Greg could do was watch. This was exactly why his ex–wife had said he was a lousy father. He never took control, never took responsibility, and never knew what to do—except earn money.
Paying the bills was important, but being there for those who needed him was even more so.
When a child hurts, they want their parents. Not just a mother, but also the father. All those business trips he’d needed to take, all those late evenings he’d needed to work, and all the boo–boos he’d needed to kiss and make better but never did.
His children were still young enough that he could make a difference in their lives. Spend more time with them, play with them, and make each and every school function with them.
&nbs
p; There would be time.
He'd make sure of it.
He removed pieces of fabric from Skipper's costume and tossed them to the floor, exposing more of Skipper's fur. With each bit of skin he saw, he made a point to pet Skipper and tell him that he was very brave and that Daddy was there to make it all better.
15
“Lift him up and set him in this wash stand.” Kacie opened the door of the plastic bath and popped the drainage hole beneath so the water could drain out.
Gently, Greg placed Skipper in the tub, making sure to keep his head up. “It'll all be better soon.”
Skipper's foot slipped, and Greg saw just how much fur Kacie needed to shave. It revealed Skipper's raw and tender skin. “I remember Ashley saying something about king of beasts, but I swear, I didn't know what she was talking about.” He glanced up at Kacie. “I'd never let her do this to him.”
Kacie saw the worry in Greg's eyes as he cradled Skipper's head in his hands. The man cared about this dog. That was obvious.
So many people cared about animals. They just didn't take care of them. At least Skipper had seemed healthy and happy last week when Greg had brought him in. It was easy to believe that Ashley was solely responsible.
Kacie tried to focus on that, and on the man she remembered Greg to be. Kindness of heart wasn’t something you simply grew out of. The man who’d stood by her all those years ago was still in there somewhere. Of course, Ashley’s creepiness had dirtied him.
“Ashley would prattle on about so much,” Greg said as he applied the special soap. “She usually talked about clothing and shoes. Following her conversations used to tax me too much. I'd usually just nod and say whatever. She probably did say something about this stupid costume. I just don't remember it.”
“I believe you, Greg.” In school, Ashley talked nonstop. The topic usually revolved around her, naturally. Kacie wasn't sure if anyone ever listened to her.