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My Husband's Secret

Page 10

by Kiersten Modglin


  I stared at him. It was all I’d wanted to hear for so long, but in that moment, it felt wrong. “You could give up on Naomi? Just like that? Becca? You’d leave them here?”

  He nodded. “The only way I’ll ever be rid of Naomi is if I can walk away from this town, from this life, and never look back. I want to build a life with you, Clara. You’re the most real thing I’ve ever known, the best thing in my life, and after we talked last time, I guess it made me realize it. It made me realize I’m wasting time being without you.”

  “Where is this all coming from? It seems like a total one-eighty from where we were before.”

  He squeezed my thigh gently. “Naomi is just causing problems, as usual. I think it’s time for us to part ways, but she’ll never let me go if I stay here. We could move away, get a place set up, and then, if she still needs help with Becca, maybe she could come live with us.”

  I furrowed my brow, my body tensing at the thought. “Naomi?”

  He scowled, moving his fingers through the water and holding them over my legs so the cool water dripped onto my burns. “God, no. I meant Becca.”

  “Naomi would give up her daughter?”

  He shrugged, as if that was a normal thing to do. “I’m the one raising her. The one paying for everything she does. It’ll only be a matter of time until I’m able to convince Naomi, or the courts if that’s what it comes to, that I’m the best thing for her. Naomi’s not well enough to care for Becca on her own.”

  I nodded, though if my thoughts had seemed harsh, his words seemed harsher. I knew Naomi had caused problems for him—too many to name—but I had no idea how to feel about his plan to take her child away from her. From all I’d seen and heard, he didn’t seem particularly attached to the little girl and with our schedules, no matter the hospital, I didn’t see how we could be fit parents either.

  The possibilities raced through my mind. Would I be her mother? Not really, but an acting one anyway. Was I ready for that? I looked up at Luke, whose hopeful eyes hadn’t left mine. With him, I felt everything was possible.

  “You know I’d go anywhere with you, Luke. You’re my home; you always have been.” My heart thudded in my ears as I waited for him to respond. His grin grew wide and bright as his hand moved from my thigh to my hand where it rested on the side of the bathtub. He squeezed it gently, lifting it to his lips.

  “I don’t know why it took me so long to realize how much I love you.”

  I watched him carefully, wondering what exactly had happened at dinner to make things change so much between us. Whatever it was, I was grateful for the dramatic change in behavior. I was grateful to finally be on the same page. “Does this mean you’re going to move in sooner?”

  “It means I don’t ever want to leave,” he said. “As long as you’ll have me.”

  “Forever,” I whispered, sitting up and leaning toward his lips. I didn’t care about the pain I felt, or the worry in my chest, I only cared about Luke. And, finally, he was all mine.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Alaina

  What are you doing, Lucas?

  The dot on my phone screen led me to two different places that day. Once, to a large, brick home with oversized windows and an immaculate lawn. It was a far cry from the small, one bedroom he’d told me he lived in. He wasn’t there long though, just an hour or two, but when he came out, he’d changed from his scrubs into a different outfit. Perhaps this was his parents’ home? I had no way of knowing, but still, I followed. The more I watched, the more I would learn.

  His next stop was at a small apartment complex across town. The street was crowded, but I eventually found a spot not too far away, where I could keep an eye on his car. He went down a quiet corridor, knocked once on the first door to the left, and then inserted his key and entered. It would make sense that this was his apartment, though I didn’t know why he’d need to knock—maybe I’d seen wrong.

  I waited, watching for movement. Why was this place such a secret? Why wasn’t I allowed to come here? To know where he lived? The apartment was quaint and cute in a busy, but safe, area. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the kind of apartment I’d pictured him in. From what he’d said in the past, I thought he lived closer to the hospital, nearer where the first house was. I’d always imagined something more modern, with large windows like the first home, but sharper angles. Less homey and more bachelor pad. But this would work, too. It was much nicer than my apartment where we spent all of our time.

  I watched his dot as it bounced back and forth around the apartment, occasionally showing up across the street and then coming back as it recalibrated. He was in there, for sure, and I was half tempted to show up, force myself in, and make him spill all of his secrets. Instead, I made myself practice patience. I needed to know what he was hiding.

  It was dark before there was movement outside of the apartment. I’d all but dozed off when I saw the outside light come on and watched him walk away. He was dressed back in his scrubs this time, ready for work, his face illuminated by the phone screen as he appeared to be typing a message.

  He stopped outside of his car and glanced around. My heart sank as I tried to scoot further down in my seat. Please no. Please no. Please no. To my great relief, he pulled his keys from his pocket and climbed in the car, starting it up right away. If he’d seen me, he’d done an excellent job of hiding it. And why would he have to? Why was he hiding so much from me, and why hadn’t I pushed to get these answers sooner? For so much of our relationship, I’d let Lucas lead blindly. He was older, wiser, and with more money and life experience. Who was I to try and push for things—answers—he was so unwilling to give me. He was nearly twice my age, rich, and he loved me, so I didn’t care about the rest. He was good to me. But now, with the baby coming, I had to know the truth about the man I was going to be marrying.

  After his car had pulled out of the parking lot, I backed out of my own parking spot and followed in the direction he’d turned, doing my best to keep my distance. It was dark, so I was sure he couldn’t make out my car even if he noticed me, but I didn’t want to chance him worrying about being followed.

  He turned onto the interstate a few miles up, and I sped up, worried about losing him from where I was. I entered the interstate just as he merged across two lanes, directly behind a semi, with another behind him. I had no way to cut in safely. I crossed the lanes after the semi, with eyes no longer on him. I sped up, trying to make sure I stayed close to him, but to my surprise, the car was no longer between the semis. He’d gotten over, but into which lane? I searched the dark interstate, nothing but headlights and taillights, looking for his car. Where did you go?

  I sped up again, then slammed on my brakes as a minivan with a busted taillight cut me off. I cursed, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. He was gone. I’d lost him.

  I pulled off at the next exit, unsure where I was. Had he seen me, after all? Was that why he’d been driving so erratically? Or maybe it was my imagination.

  I lifted my phone from the center console, ready to type my address into the GPS to get home, then I froze. How had I forgotten? I could still track him.

  I’d lost focus and forgotten about my new trick.

  I stared at the dot, zooming in to get a good idea of where he was. He’d gotten off the interstate two exits ahead of me. I clicked the button on the app that gave me directions to his location, ever changing as he moved, and placed it on the console again, my eyes trained on the screen.

  I pulled out and turned right. If you thought you could lose me that easily, you’ve underestimated me.

  I grinned to myself, proud of my quick thinking. He couldn’t escape me this time. I was going to get my answers.

  Fifteen minutes later, I checked the locks on my doors as I pulled into an unfamiliar area of town. There were bars on windows and street lights that had burned out. What would Lucas be doing here?

  I drove slowly, my heart thudding in my chest as my nerves amplified. On the corner, I spied a gro
up of young men, younger even than I was. They stood still, hands in their pockets as they watched my car closely. I swallowed, keeping steady on the road until they were out of sight. Lucas’ dot had turned on a street just up ahead, and he appeared to be stopped.

  With growing apprehension, I turned right, slowing as I neared his dot. Sure enough, his car was parked on the street, though it was dark, and I couldn’t see him inside of it.

  What are you doing here, Lucas?

  What is this place?

  I looked up at the buildings around us. A small market was to my left, with trash gathered outside of it. There was an overweight man inside, standing behind the counter. He glanced out the window as I drove past. Up above the market were two small apartments, with balconies and fire escapes, though they both looked to be empty or turned in for the night, with newspapers taped on their windows.

  To the right, there was a rundown apartment building with window units in each window and two lion sculptures with graffiti covering their exterior at the entrance.

  I glanced at his car as I drove past it. It was definitely empty. Wherever Lucas was, I couldn’t be sure. I stepped on the gas as two shadowy figures came out of an alley, a bulky man and a woman severely underdressed for the crisp fall weather. I needed to get out of there. I forced out a breath, trying to slow my shaking hands as I turned onto the next street, stopped at a stop sign, and then sped out of town.

  Lucas’ little purple dot was haunting me as I moved further away, but I couldn’t stay. I could hardly breathe as I pushed the pedal further, seeing the sign for the interstate up ahead. I had to get back to safety. For now, whatever his secrets were, they were his to keep.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Naomi

  The fight with Lucas had taken place hours before, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease. There had been a coldness in his eyes that I didn’t recognize. Sure, we’d had our troubles. Things hadn’t been perfect between us in a long time, but this was different. He was different. A chill ran over me, causing the hair on my arms to stand on end as I thought about it.

  From my laptop, I closed out of Facebook and opened my online banking site. It had been too long since I’d checked the account, and after what he’d said about taking Becca and about me being unfit, I wanted to make sure there was no validity to those statements. I was going to make sure I was on top of everything. The account was set up so that my parents’ money came into it on the fifteenth of every month and then on the first, all of our bills were auto-drafted. Set it and forget it had always been the easiest way for me, and Lucas’ income was just an extra cushion.

  I typed in the login and scrolled. Electric, gas, water, AmEx, Netflix…I stopped. Waters and Flagstaff Prop $688. What was that? I scrolled down a bit more. Our landscapers payments came out under something similar, but it was nowhere near that high to my recollection.

  There it was.

  Not all that similar in fact. Waterstone’s Lawn Care, LLC Pay.

  I went to Google and searched Waters and Flagstaff Properties. They were out of Ohio, but it looked as though they had a few properties all over the Southeast and Midwest. I scrolled down a bit more. Every month on the third, going back six months—and that was just as far as my history would take me. I pulled up a statement from nine months ago. Ten. A year ago. Eighteen months. They were always on there. Nearly seven hundred dollars a month.

  I went back to the transaction, noting the last four digits of the card that had authorized it. I stood and hurried across my bedroom, digging in my purse and retrieving my wallet. I pulled out the gold card with blue lettering, and studied the last four numbers. They weren’t mine.

  I went back to the account and pulled up the cards associated with our banking, focusing on the card with the four digits that matched the rent payment. I selected the button that would reveal the entire card number and wrote it down, just in case the bank’s site logged me out due to inactivity. Then, I turned back to Google and called the headquarters for the company, pressing my way through the prompts to get to an actual human.

  “Thanks for contacting Waters and Flagstaff, where luxury is home. Just as a reminder, this call may be monitored or recorded for quality assurance. May I have your first and last name please?” she asked, not introducing herself.

  “Yes, my name is Naomi Martin,” I told her, my hands shaking as I gripped the phone in my hand.

  “Nice to speak to you today, Ms. Martin. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m calling about an account that my card has been paying for several months now, but I’m not sure what it’s to. If I give you the card number, are you able to give me any information?”

  She paused. “Um, I’m not sure. Do you have any idea what property the account is with? We have sixty-seven in total.”

  “I don’t…I’m sorry.”

  “What about the city or state? That might help me narrow it down a bit? I’d have to search the card number by individual property and that may take some time.”

  “Well, I’m in Nolensville, Tennessee, but I’m not positive that’s where the payments are being made. We may have been hacked.”

  “Okay, the closest property we have to Nolensville…looks like, would be Nashville. We have three properties in Nashville I can check for you,” she said, and I could hear her typing. “What’s the rent amount?”

  “It’s for six hundred eighty-eight.”

  She was typing again. “Okay, that narrows it down again. Looks like two of the three properties are all well over a thousand at a minimum. So, we’re looking at our Gardner Apartments on North Creek. Okay,” she paused, “now, let’s get that card number and I’ll see what I can find.”

  I recited the card number to her and waited as she repeated it back to me. “What did you say your last name was?”

  “Martin,” I told her.

  “There it is. Looks like the account is under Lucas Martin. Anyone you know?”

  My body went cold. “Yes, that’s my husband.”

  I heard her take a breath, but she didn’t immediately speak. “I can give you the address.” There was a sense of urgency there, woman to woman. “If—if that would help.”

  “That would help tremendously,” I said, no power left in my voice.

  “It’s not really in our policy, but the card is in your name…” She trailed off, obviously nervous.

  I didn’t want to lie, but it was hardly stretching the truth. “Yes, it is. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. I’m sure my husband’s renting the place for a friend of his. He’s always trying to help out.”

  “Okay, here’s what I have on file for your address, Ms. Martin.” She recited the address to me, and I jotted it down, clicking the pen when I was finished.

  “Thank you so much,” I told her. “Truly.”

  “You’re very welcome. It’s what I would want someone to do for me. I wish you luck with…everything. Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?”

  “That’ll be it. Thank you again.” I ended the call and took a deep breath, staring at the address scrawled across the notebook page. Whose rent were we paying? Why hadn’t Lucas told me?

  I stared at my phone. There was one person who might be able to answer my questions, but I desperately didn’t want to call him. I weighed my options, which were extremely limited, and eventually sighed. What choice did I have? Confront Lucas? If he were hiding it, he’d find a way to lie his way through it anyway.

  I scrolled through my contacts and clicked on his name, squeezing my eyes shut as I lifted the phone to my ear. He answered almost immediately, as if he were waiting for my call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey…” There was so much weight in that pause, so much of the unknown. We hadn’t spoken since…

  “I’m surprised you’re calling. Everything okay?”

  I nodded, my chest tight. “Yeah, um, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately, I just—”

  “Didn’t know what to say?
Yeah, I got that,” he said, and to my great relief, there seemed to be a playful hint to his tone. “I just assumed you needed space. Or that you hated me.”

  “I could never hate you, Brent. You know that.”

  “Do I?”

  “Well, you should,” I lied. What reason had I ever given him to know that? I can think of at least two…

  He cleared his throat. “I’m assuming there’s a reason for your call.”

  Getting back to business, I clicked the pen in my hand, tracing over the address absentmindedly. “Actually, there is. I… This is going to sound terrible. Lucas and I had a, er, well, we had an argument this afternoon, where divorce got brought up, and he was…well, anyway, long story short, I found a few transactions on our statements that I’m not recognizing. They’re for an apartment complex north of downtown, nearly seven hundred dollars a month. Do you have any idea what that might be?”

  He inhaled sharply through his teeth, and I could suddenly hear the wind in his speaker. He’d stepped outside. Had I interrupted something? “I wish I did, but with my brother, there’s honestly no telling. Did you get the address?”

  “Yeah,” I said, unable to hide the disappointment from my voice. “I mean, we could’ve been hacked, I guess. Is it bad that that’s what I’m hoping for? But the account is listed under his name. Do you think he has an apartment I don’t know about? Would he? I mean, what could he need one for? To get away from me?” The answer was there, though it made no sense. Obviously, without me realizing it, our marriage had gotten bad enough that he needed a reason to hide out from me. Was I truly so miserable to live with?

  “You know I wouldn’t put anything past Lucas,” he said, venom in his tone. “He’s always been a liar, Naomi. I know you love him, and I truly do think he loves you, but…in the end he only cares about—”

 

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