My Husband's Secret

by Kiersten Modglin

  Running late, sweetheart. We’ll try to be there as soon as we can. You may have to start dinner without us. I’ll let you know if we won’t make it. Xx.

  I groaned, laying the phone down. It wasn’t the first time they’d been late or failed to show up at all to a dinner we’d scheduled, and as they were preparing to travel to Bora Bora the next day, this was my last chance to see them for at least a month. Lucas entered the room, and I glanced up. He’d changed into more casual clothes, his polo tucked into khaki slacks, his hair brushed, and his tennis shoes traded for Doc Martens.

  “How was work?” I asked, walking forward as he moved to approach me. He kissed my hairline, just above my ear, gripping my arm.

  “Fine. I got put on a last-minute surgery that had some complications, which is why I’m late. I was worried I wouldn’t beat your parents here.”

  I sighed, leading the way toward the table. “Well, they’re running late apparently, so there was no rush.”

  His face fell. “Running late? Sweetheart, you worked so hard on all of this.”

  I nodded but didn’t speak. He was right. I hadn’t gone through this much trouble for a dinner in so long, but it had been years since we hosted my parents and I wanted them to be impressed. I hated that I felt that way. Like I needed to impress them or earn their approval. I’d worked so hard to build a life they were proud of, and still, they had so much power over me.

  “It’s almost too beautiful to eat,” he said, eyeing the lamb on the platter in front of his seat.

  “Well, thank you,” I said, “but they said we should start without them, so I’m afraid it’ll just be us who sees it.”

  “And me!” Becca cried gleefully.

  “And you,” I agreed, patting her arm.

  He sank into his chair, staring at me. “We could wait…”

  Becca took a bite of her food, chewing. She put another piece in her mouth, and I reached for her fork, much to her dismay. “Slow down, baby. One bite at a time or you’ll choke.”

  “I won’t choke,” she argued.

  Lucas laughed. “Well, someone’s appreciating your food.”

  I offered a sad smile. “You’re right.” I lifted the knife, slicing us each a chunk of meat and placing them on our plates, then I added spanakopita next to the meat. Last, I put a scoop of salad on each of the plates and sighed. “Dig in, I suppose.”

  He reached across the table and took my hand, surprising me. “I’m sorry, babe. This is great. They’re missing out.” He seemed, like me, to already assume they weren’t going to be showing up, further proof we’d done this song and dance before.

  “Thanks,” I said, taking a small bite of my lamb. I hated how pitiful I felt, how insignificant they could make me feel. It was only Lucas who saw it, but he understood better than anyone. Parents had never been our specialty. It was why we fit together so well. We understood each other in a way no person with a functional family could. Though our traumas were different, both our upbringings had damaged us beyond repair.

  His finger rubbed across my knuckles. “It’ll be okay. Once they’re gone again, things’ll be back to normal.”

  I looked at him, cocking my head to the side. “Is normal what we’re striving for?”

  He moved his hand back, taking a bite of salad. “Hm?”

  “I mean, I know my parents being home adds a bit of stress to our lives, but even when they aren’t here…do you think what we have is…I mean, are we good? Is this good?”

  He scoffed, though his gaze was far-off, and he glanced around the room like someone was playing a prank on him. “Where is this coming from?”

  “I just wondered, I guess. It feels like things have been so weird between us lately. I know you’re working so much, and I don’t blame you for that, I just…” I trailed off, unsure of where I was going or how to say what I truly wanted to say. It felt like we’d fallen apart. Like we were roommates, business associates who shared a bed but not much else. I had no idea what he did during the day anymore, though he used to share so much with me. “It feels like everything has changed.”

  “Nothing has changed,” he said quickly, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “Why would you say that?”

  I sucked in a breath. I desperately didn’t want to fight, but I had to know the truth. No amount of searching Google for the phone number had pointed me in the right direction. “Who is A? In your phone?”

  He placed his fork down, looking at his plate for a moment before looking back at me. “Who?”

  “A. In your phone. The other night, when you’d gone downstairs there was a picture of a painting sent to your phone.”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket. “You’re the one who deleted it?” he asked, his jaw tensing.

  “Who was it? Who’s A?” I asked again.

  “A is Alexander Tremblay. He’s an up-and-coming artist that does a lot of paintings downtown. I met him last week on my lunch break. He’s a bright kid, but he’s had a rough go of things. I thought we could help him out by buying a piece of his art. He was supposed to be painting something and sending it over, but I never got it. We saw each other again yesterday and he asked me if I didn’t like it, but I had no idea what he was talking about. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

  I sighed, feeling ridiculous. Of course there was an obvious explanation. “I thought…well, I don’t know what I thought. It was a painting of a naked woman.”

  “And? Degas is your favorite artist. I hardly thought you’d be bothered by nudity.”

  “I’m not bothered by it,” I argued swiftly. “I was just worried it meant more to you than a piece of art. It made me uncomfortable.”

  “More to me how, Naomi? It was a painting. I can’t believe you went through my phone, let alone deleted a picture from it.”

  “I was worried you were cheating on me, okay? I wasn’t trying to snoop, but you weren’t in the bedroom and I wasn’t sure if it was the hospital. When I saw the painting, and the fact that the sender didn’t have a name in your contacts, I don’t know, I just got jealous.”

  He scoffed, pushing away from the table. “Cheating on you, really? C’mon, you know me better than that. How could I? Between you two and work, I have no spare time.”

  “I know that,” I said. “I just…it worried me.”

  He studied my face. “Have you been taking your medication?”

  My jaw dropped, his question slamming into my chest. “Of course, I have. How can you even ask that?”

  “You get paranoid when you’re off your meds. It’s a fair question. How can you ask me if I’m cheating?” He folded his arms across his chest, obviously angry.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas, but I had to ask. I didn’t say I don’t believe you.”

  “Do you?”

  I sucked in a breath. Truth was, I didn’t know. I wanted to believe him, but his defensiveness made me feel wary. “I do, Lucas,” I lied. “I do believe you. I was just feeling insecure.” He stared at me, the tight line of his lips loosening.

  “I’d never cheat on you. I’m not that guy.”

  I nodded. “I know you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t risk losing us.” I threw the last sentence in carefully, just as it appeared his guard was down.

  His eyes widened, his fingers flexing on the table. “I’d never want to lose you.”

  I gave a small smile and lifted my fork, though my appetite had all but disappeared. “Cheating is one thing I’d never tolerate, so I’m especially sensitive about it, you know? I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.”

  “What do you mean you wouldn’t tolerate it?” he asked, twisting his mouth. “It’s not something anyone tolerates, is it? I mean, if it were to happen, we’d work through it and move past it. I’d be able to forgive you.”

  “What are you saying?” I placed my fork down again, a cool knot forming in my stomach.

  “Nothing, I’m just talking, I guess.” He broke his eye contact with me, taking another bite, though he was obviously shaken up.

>   I blinked, speaking calmly but with purpose. “If I ever found out you were cheating on me, I’d leave you in a heartbeat. There would be no fixing us and moving on. I don’t operate that way, Lucas.” I couldn’t completely ignore the guilt in my heart, but rage and confusion outweighed it. Is he cheating on me, after all?

  He looked up at me, his head cocked to the side. “You’d really break up our family?”

  “You’d be the one breaking up our family, though, wouldn’t you?” When he didn’t answer, I pressed on. “Lucas, is there something you need to tell me?”

  Lucas looked at Becca, and I followed his gaze, realizing she was staring at us intently. “What, Mama?”

  I smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes. “Nothing, sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are just talking. Eat your food.”

  She pushed her meat around with her fork but didn’t take a bite, and I returned my gaze to Lucas as he began to speak.

  “I don’t have anything to tell you because I’ve never cheated. But I don’t think there’s anything that would cause me to leave you and tear apart our family. I’m a firm believer that anything can be fixed.”

  I took another bite. “Well,” I said, swallowing, “I guess that’s the difference between us, hm? I wouldn’t fix something you chose to break.”

  “Well, you’re right. I guess that is the difference, then.” His tone had cooled considerably. “The problem being that if we were to separate, I’d be the one who’d end up with custody of Becca…”

  Chills lined my skin. “How do you figure?”

  “Well, with your history…of depression. I can’t see how any judge would grant you custody over me.”

  “I can’t believe you just said that to me,” I said, feeling betraying tears fill my eyes. He blurred in my vision as he lifted his head to look at me. “My depression is completely under control. Has been for over a year. Mental illness is nothing to be ashamed of, Lucas. I’ve fought to get better, and I am.”

  “It’s just facts, Nae. I’m not threatening you. I want us to be a family, but we both know if it weren’t for me, we would’ve lost Becca after we had her when you had to be sent away.”

  “I was being treated for postpartum depression,” I said through gritted teeth, anger boiling in my belly. “Don’t make it seem like something it isn’t. I did what was best for my health, and I’m all the better for it. I’ve been nothing but an excellent mom since then, and I’m furious that you’re making me defend that right now.” I paused, collecting myself. “Besides that, you’re the one with such an insane schedule you only see your daughter for an hour or two a day, and that’s on a good day. You’re the one drowning in so much debt from before we met, my parents are paying most of our bills. How can you possibly think you’d be the most stable parent?” I brushed my tears away quickly, feeling ill.

  “Well, I guess, if that situation were to ever present itself, we’d just have to roll the dice then, wouldn’t we?” He took another slow bite, and I let out a haggard breath. How had we gotten to this point? The dinner had started off so well. I watched his expression as he stared at me, chills running over my skin. For the first time in my marriage, I didn’t recognize the man sitting across from me. I didn’t recognize the fear that had settled into my bones.

  I took another bite, looking away and letting his threats wash over me. Why was this happening? What was he hiding? Why did the look in his eyes terrify me so much?

  I forced out a breath. “Yes, I guess we would. Luckily for us, we’ll never have to be in that position, will we?”

  He smirked, his eyes pure stone. “Luckily for us, no we won’t.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Clara

  The knock on the door startled me, and I jumped, spilling hot tea into my lap. I cursed under my breath, standing up and placing the mug on the table as I reached for tissues to dab up the mess. I pulled my shirt away from my body, the hot liquid scalding my skin, and inhaled sharply through gritted teeth.

  Ouch, ouch, ouch.

  The front door burst open, reminding me of what had caused the burns in the first place, and I looked up, feeling pitiful at his confused face.

  “What happened?”

  “You scared me, that’s what! I jerked with hot tea in my hand.” The tea was rapidly cooling, though I was sure my legs and lower stomach would have first-degree burns.

  “I’m sorry, Clara,” Luke said, making his way toward me. He helped get the shirt over my head, pulling my pants down with a look of sheer concern. It was one I recognized, too, from the hospital. One that said he was all-consumed with his work. He looked over my legs, taking the tissues from my hand to dab up the rest of the mess. “It’s okay. They’re a bit red and painful, I’m sure, but it’s not bad. We’ll get you into a cool bath. Come on.” He put a hand under my shoulder and ushered me into the guest bathroom down the hall.

  “What were you knocking for, anyway?”

  “I’ve told you, it’s a habit.” He shook his head as we reached the bathroom, and he helped me to rest against the sink.

  “Honestly, I’m fine. I’ll just get some aloe and ibuprofen. It’s not so bad now. It was just a shock to the system.”

  He smirked but turned on the water in the bathtub anyway. “I’d still feel better if you had a cool soak first.”

  “Whatever you say, Doctor,” I teased.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” he retorted, placing his hand under the faucet to check the temperature before lifting the lever to stop the water from draining. “In you go.” He held out his hand and I placed mine in it as he led me across the small room and helped me sink into the rapidly filling water.

  “Oh,” I whispered, the cold water sending chills down my body. “Now see, this is just cruel.”

  He sank down beside the tub, keeping one arm inside the water and using his fingers to drip cool water on my sunburn-red upper thighs. “What’s cruel is having to stare at you like this and knowing I can’t touch you until the pain fades.” He met my eyes, a hint of desire in their depths.

  “I think I could suffer through the pain if you made it worth my while,” I teased, though I truly wasn’t sure. God, it hurts.

  His lips twisted in thought as he dropped more water onto my legs with his fingers before reaching up to turn off the faucet. I noticed his clothes for the first time. He was dressed in a polo, slacks, and dress shoes. “Special occasion?” I asked, raising a brow.

  He glanced down at himself. “I just finished up dinner with Naomi and our parents, and as soon as it was done, I had to get out of there.”

  “Your parents?” I asked, shocked by his words. Far as I knew, he hadn’t had contact with his mother in years, and I didn’t think he even knew his father. “You didn’t tell me you were back in touch.”

  His face fell, but quickly recovered. “Naomi set it all up. She’s fine with them as long as they keep sending her money.”

  “Money?” Now I was sure I had it wrong. “I thought your mom was an addict who didn’t have any money? Why did I think that? You said you were constantly having to send her money before… It was why you lost touch.”

  He shook his head, staring at me as if I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had. “You must be thinking of someone else. I’ve never had to send my mom money. Trust me, my parents have plenty. It just never gets spent on me, always Naomi. They don’t have much to do with either of us, only when it’s convenient for them, but Naomi’s always been the favorite.”

  I shook my head, almost positive I’d had it right the first time. “So, if they send Naomi money, why do you have to take care of her? Why is she your responsibility?” I splashed a foot in the bathtub, drawing my attention away from him as I asked the question.

  “I don’t know. I guess I’ve always just felt like she’s my responsibility. She’s fragile, you know, and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.”

  “But she’s not your responsibility, Lucas. She’s taking advantage of your good nature. She kn
ows you’ll provide for her and Becca, and she doesn’t have to work. Especially if your parents are sending her money, too. That responsibility isn’t yours to shoulder. She’s a grown woman.” It was harsh, I knew. Aside from depression, and what I assumed but had never been told must be bipolar disorder, I didn’t know the extent of Naomi’s issues, but I knew that Lucas had been catering to them for far too long. From what he’d said, she was ungrateful for the sacrifices he made for her. She never said thank you or tried to help with bills while he was paying for everything, and she caused more problems than he could solve. I wanted so badly for Lucas to see that and finally realize it was time to ask her to leave. She was his sister and he loved her—I didn’t have siblings so I’d never understand that bond completely, but I knew love and I knew how powerful it could be. Luke was the most loving man I knew, but I hated seeing him being taken advantage of.

  “You’re right, I know. I’ve actually been thinking a lot lately…”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as his fingers slid slowly between my knees.

  He rested his chin on the side of the tub, apparently lost in deep thought. “What would you say if I asked you to run away with me?”

  I snorted. The idea was preposterous, as if we were children ready to elope, but based on the serious expression on his face, I wasn’t sure he was joking. “What are you talking about? Run away where?”

  “Anywhere. Mexico. Canada. London. California. What if we just packed our bags and disappeared? Didn’t show up for our next shift? Didn’t tell anyone where we were going? What if we just drained our accounts and disappeared? Would you go with me?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip, thinking over what he was saying. Just yesterday, he’d said he didn’t like the idea of commitment beyond moving in together, and today he was all prepared to escape across the country with me. What had changed? “I don’t know, Luke. I have a lease here, and…we love our jobs. Could you really give up being a surgeon?”

  “We could be surgeons wherever we went. There are hospitals everywhere. And besides, I think I could give up everything for you… Can you say the same?”