“None of it was a lie. Don’t you see that? Not that I loved you. Not that I wanted to spend my life with you. I married Naomi out of duty, but we’ve never been together in the way you and I are. That ended so long ago between us. You’re the woman I love. The woman I want a life with.”
“Even if that’s true, we can never have a life together, Luke. And, even if you left Naomi, even if you managed to free yourself up for me, I could never bring myself to trust you again. You lied about your wife’s mental state to suit your situation. Do you have any idea how wrong that is?”
“I didn’t lie!” he shouted, then lowered his voice. “Sorry. I just…I didn’t. I mean, maybe Naomi isn’t as bad off as I described her, but when she and I met, she was very depressed. Borderline suicidal. And the pregnancy was hard on her. She had so many health issues, and after Becca, she had such bad postpartum depression, I had to send her to a facility. I was going it completely alone for so long. Trying to balance my career, my relationship with you, raising a newborn, keeping my house put together. She’s better now—her medication is closely monitored, but she’s doing better. After everything, I still can’t bring myself to trust her completely.”
“I can’t listen to this,” I said, shaking my head. “Regardless of what Naomi did or didn’t do, has or hasn’t done, she’s your wife. You’re married to her and you have an obligation to her. And to your child. You were right in thinking I would’ve left you if I’d known the truth all those years ago. You’ve wasted my time, Luke. You’ve wasted my time, which is dwindling anyway, and you’ve broken my heart. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you’ve done.”
“You don’t mean that…” His chin quivered.
“I do,” I said, pressing my lips together. “I really, really do. I need you to give me some space. I need to process.” I stepped back, a hand over my stomach as I willed myself not to be sick. I reached for the door, then froze and looked back over my shoulder. “You need to tell Naomi the truth.”
With that, I disappeared through the door. I wasn’t sure if it was a threat, if he’d assume I would tell Naomi if he didn’t. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. There were too many options, too many questions swimming through my head, all cloaked in massive heartbreak.
I just needed space.
I needed a moment to breathe.
Thank God, I was headed for a surgery. What I needed more than anything else was to cut something. And, at that point, it was Luke or a patient.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Alaina
The text came in around two in the morning the day after the doctor’s appointment. I wanted to hold out much longer, to stay mad at him for a longer period of time, to have him come back to me groveling. I supposed a text would have to work.
I’m sorry about the way I acted earlier. Can I come over?
I sent back a simple k. in hopes that he’d realize I was still upset. He still had some work to do. I climbed out of bed and slipped into the shower, scrubbing the sweat from my skin. I ran sudsy hands over my tiny bump, hoping that someday he’d look at it and be filled with as much love as I was. We’d made that. We’d created something from nothing. Our love had created life.
I grabbed my razor, shaving quickly. As mad as I was at him, I couldn’t deny how badly I wanted to be with him again. It was sickening. I should’ve hated him, but I couldn’t. I craved his touch like some pregnant women craved food. I longed for his hands on my skin, for the way he smelled, for the way he looked at me. I could only hope that he’d realized the error of his ways, that he was coming to apologize and beg for my forgiveness. I rinsed the conditioner from my hair when I was done shaving and stepped out of the shower. I wiped away a dry spot on the foggy mirror and examined my body.
I ran a hand over the paint palette tattoo on my upper thigh, then up my belly and toward my swollen breasts. Lucas had commented recently on their doubling in size, seemingly impressed. Taking that note to heart, I threw on a silk teddy that left nothing to the imagination and ran a comb through my short hair. I removed my lip ring and brushed my teeth, flossing until my gums bled. I swiped on deodorant and lotion, then flipped off the light when I heard the knock on the door.
I hurried into the bedroom and toward the hall, listening as the door opened. When I saw him, I slowed my steps, trying to appear seductive rather than frazzled. Using the hand behind his back, he shut the door without breaking eye contact, a crooked grin on his face.
“Hey,” he said, breathless. He blinked slowly, lazily, and I realized something might be wrong.
“Hey…” I stepped forward.
“Areweokay?” he blurted out, the words all strung together as he took another step and stumbled forward.
I stepped back, staring at him as reality hit me. “Are you drunk?”
He rubbed his palm over his face. “I’m not as think as you drunk I am,” he teased, letting out an obnoxious laugh as he took another drunken step forward.
“I thought you were at work.” Anger bubbled in my belly, and I found myself filling with disgust. Had he really gotten drunk and then drove to me?
“Rough day,” he said with a sigh, not bothering to explain. It’s not like that was new. He rarely told me much about his day. Or his life, if we were being honest. He took another step toward me and reached out his arm. I let him grip mine, but I didn’t budge from my spot.
“I can’t believe you drove drunk. Do you have any idea how stupid that is?”
“I’m not that drunk, honestly.” He wiggled his shoulders one at a time over and over in a wave-like motion. “I’m just a little loosey-goosey…”
“What are you doing here, Lucas? Why did you come?” I rubbed my fingers across my throbbing temple, feeling mortified. I’d had so much hope for our evening, but it was obvious he’d called me for one reason alone. He was going to use me. Like he had before. Maybe it was all he’d ever done.
“I wanted to see you,” he said, trying to maintain a serious face, though it looked more painful than anything.
“Why?”
He stepped forward, and I remained still, letting him approach me. “Because…I’m an idiot. And I missed you. And I wanted to be sure you were okay after…well, after everything.”
I pressed my lips together. “You really hurt me, Lucas.”
He closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. “I know.”
“You embarrassed me. You made me look and feel like an idiot…like you didn’t—don’t—care.” I felt bitter, betraying tears coming on.
“I do care. I care so much.” His hands wrapped gently around my arms.
“How can you when you seem to hardly be able to stand being around me? I don’t understand what you want from me. Am I just a booty call? Or just someone to make you feel less lonely?” When the tears began to fall, I refused to stop them or brush them away. I let him see what he was doing to me.
“How can you even ask that?” He leaned his head onto my shoulder. “I love you, Alaina. You’ve never been…that to me. You’ve always meant something.”
“But you mean everything to me, Lucas. Don’t you see that? It isn’t even. It isn’t fair. And you come here like this, and I’m—God, I’m so stupid. I thought—I don’t know what I thought. But I didn’t want this. This conversation while you’re drunk, when you won’t remember half of what you’re saying right now tomorro—”
He shoved his lips to mine, causing me to jump back, but his grip was tight on my arms. I gave in with a sigh, our lips barely parting. His hand moved to the back of my neck, the other on my waist as he pushed his mouth onto mine harder. His kiss tasted of bourbon and salt. His hands were hot on my skin, and though the anger I felt didn’t dissipate totally, my hormones had control over my reaction. I leaned my head back as his lips left mine, trailing across my jaw bone and onto my shoulder blade. He brushed my gown off my shoulder in a second, pressing his lips to my flaming skin.
He cupped my breasts as his kisses trailed between t
hem, pushing my gown the rest of the way to the floor. He stepped back, looking me over, his eyes dark with desire, then he licked his lips and scooped me up. He took heavy, loud steps down the hallway, trying to continue our kiss as we went. He stumbled, one hand gripping my waist and the other on the wall, as we neared the bedroom. Standing me back down on the ground, he separated his lips from mine as we made our way toward the bed. Then I let him lay me down, my hands lifting his shirt over his head and unbuttoning his pants. He reached for my hand, pulling me toward him, but I stopped, shaking my head.
“Come here,” I whispered, wiggling a finger at him. I didn’t want it to be rough, hot, and heavy like usual. I wanted it to be tender now. I wanted to feel the love between us. I wanted him to take care of me like he’d never done before.
He seemed confused, but bent his arm, leaning down beside me on the bed. He moved closer to me, his hand running through my hair as his tongue explored my mouth. He expelled a groan, rocking his hips against mine as he rolled over onto his back, leaving me beside him.
He glanced down, raising his brows in a way he so often did, his eyes darkening as he used the hand still in my hair to push my head in the general direction he wanted it to go. Down.
I pushed back. “I want to go slow. Enjoy it. I want you to take care of me first,” I told him, moving his free hand between my legs.
He hesitated, removing his opposite hand from my hair. “Can I…I mean, can you… I thought—” He cut himself off, chewing on his bottom lip. “I didn’t think you’d be able to.”
“What do you mean?”
“Because…well, you know—”
“You know the doctor said sex is totally safe for the baby,” I told him, trailing a finger across his chest. His hand lifted to mine in an instant, stopping the motion.
“The baby?” he demanded. I cocked my head to the side, confused as ever. “I thought you’d, er, well… You’re still pregnant?”
Shock radiated through me, and I backed away from him on instinct, unable to stand my skin touching his. “Of course I’m still pregnant.” My forehead wrinkled with fury. “You can’t seriously think I’d have had an abortion already? You only suggested it yesterday!”
“I thought you would’ve had it taken care of when you were already at the hospital,” he said, playing with the comforter awkwardly.
“It’s not a bit of shopping, Lucas. I couldn’t just take care of our child while I’m out! I don’t even know that I want an abortion… You thought I’d want to have sex with you after just having our child aborted? What’s wrong with you?” I stood from the bed, backing away from him in outright horror. “You…that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You thought this was all taken care of. You thought I’d just go out and do exactly as you’d asked without a care in the world or thought of my own. Is that really what you think of me? That I have no opinions?” I scowled, tearing open a drawer from behind me and pulling on shorts and a T-shirt.
He sat up, standing from the end of the bed and attempting to approach me, though I shoved him away. “Of course that’s not what I think—”
“That’s all I’ve ever showed you, isn’t it? Every time we’ve eaten out, you’ve been the one to pick. Every time we’ve had a date, you’ve chosen where. When we hang out, you choose the day and time. I’ve followed your lead like a lost puppy dog.” I put a hand on my stomach, staring into space as the reality crashed into me. “That’s all you’ve known with me.” I shook my head, watching as he lifted his pants from the ground. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I’m sorry for not showing you who I really am. I’m sorry I was so busy trying to impress you, to prove I was worthy of you, that I never let you see the real me. I am not a woman who bends to a man’s will. I am not going to let you make a decision this huge for me. I…” I put a hand to my throat. “I can’t breathe. Lucas, I can’t…I ca—”
His eyes widened as he rushed toward me, my vision tunneling as I fought to take a breath. My heart thundered in my chest, the room beginning to spin as I pressed my back against the wall and slid down.
“Alaina?” he called, his arms around me as he helped me to the ground. He was saying something else, though his words sounded as if they were coming from underwater.
My breaths were coming quicker and more labored.
I felt a cool sweat gathering at my temples.
His hands were on me, holding me up…or maybe down.
I was falling or floating…
Nothing felt right.
He was blurry, then dark.
My head hit something hard.
Everything disappeared.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Naomi
I walked through the foyer and living room with a pounding head, my arms wrapped tightly around me as it seemed the cool air of fall had finally arrived. I stopped short when I saw the muscled shoulders standing at the kitchen sink waiting for me, forgetting for just that split second about our guest.
“Sleep well?” I asked, my voice cracking with sleep.
Brent turned around, suds up to the middle of his arms, and shut off the water. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“Not at all. I’m an early riser. It’s basically my only alone time.”
His expression fell. “And I’m interrupting that.”
“No, of course not,” I assured him. “And if interrupting anything means cleaning my house, I’d never complain.” I smirked.
He shook his head. “I needed to keep my hands busy, and it’s too early to head to the shop.”
I walked toward the coffee pot, filling my faded green mug with fresh coffee. “Thank you, for this.”
“I know you can’t live without it.” I knew he was feeling every bit as awkward as I was, try as he might to hide it. He leaned against the counter, drying his hands. “How’d you sleep?”
“I don’t think you ever answered when I asked that question,” I pointed out.
“Fair enough, but I think you already know the answer.”
I took a sip of my coffee. “Was the couch uncomfortable?”
“The couch was fine,” he said graciously. “The least of my concerns, to be frank.”
“Lucas never came home,” I told him.
“I noticed. Did you hear from him?”
“No. Not that that’s unusual.” His lip twitched with unspoken words, but he didn’t speak. “Why didn’t he tell me he was in contact with your mother? I thought neither of you had spoken to her in years.”
He shook his head, moving to the coffee pot and filling a mug of his own. “Truth be told, I never have any idea why my brother does what he does, but especially not this. Last I heard, she was in South Dakota, with some man she met online.” He took a sip and rolled his eyes, letting out a loud breath. “Probably bled him dry and moved home.” He scoffed. “If she can even call this place home—we never stayed anywhere long enough to matter. As for why Lucas is helping her, I have no idea. She was just as bad to him as she was to me, maybe worse.” His lips pressed into a thin line, muscles tensing in his shoulders and neck. “She doesn’t deserve his help, Naomi. Definitely not his money.”
“Maybe he doesn’t know?” I offered. “Do you think maybe she got a hold of our banking information and put it in his name without him knowing?”
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t answer right away. “You’d have to ask him.” He resorted to grunting in between sips of coffee.
I watched him with fascination. I knew so little about my husband’s family. Brent was the only connection, and we saw him so rarely, only when I made a point to invite him to dinners, holidays, and family events. But his mother—I’d resigned myself to never meeting her. “How bad was she?” I asked softly, regretting it the instant the question left my lips. “Your mom.”
He glanced at me, his intense gray eyes drilling into mine. His face was stern, as if all the happiness had been sucked from his body. “There’s not even a word for it, Naomi. I can’t—” He slapped his palm on the counter.
“I can’t think of a single word that would describe the horror she put us through as kids.”
I shivered at the thought. “I’m sorr—”
“Don’t,” he said stiffly. “You don’t have to apologize for what she did to us. I don’t need it.”
His tone was abrasive, more so than I’d ever heard from him. “I’m—”
“She was a shit mom, okay?” he said, no real question in his tone. He rolled his eyes, his hand moving to his forehead. “The word mom isn’t even a title she deserves. She birthed us. That’s it. We did the rest.”
I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. “I know Lucas has said she was an addict.”
“Was. Is, I’m sure. She was on everything you could think of when we were kids. We bounced around from house to house, boyfriend to dealer. We never knew who either of our dads were, though I’m sure they aren’t the same. The men she was with treated us like shit, some better than others, but none of them good. We were just in the way. The things we saw…” His upper lip curled. “We walked in on them shooting up, fucking, fighting… Whatever it was, we were right in the middle of it.”
“That’s terrible,” I said, a lump in my throat preventing me from saying more. After a moment, I added, “I’m not sure how you survived it.”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking away from me. “Truth be told, I’m not either. There was never any food in the house. Hardly ever had running water or electricity. Every once in a while, we’d end up in a house with other kids… Those were the best.” He grimaced.
“Lucas never mentioned any other kids growing up…”
“Some of them he’d be too young to remember, and some of them just didn’t last long.” He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Hell, maybe he’s just lucky enough to have blocked most of it out. Our mom is a horrible human being. And our life… It wasn’t good, Naomi. I don’t know how else to describe it. It was just…that was the hand we were dealt. She never wanted any better for us. That was her choice. The needle over her children—always. If she could’ve, I’m sure she would’ve traded us for drugs a time or two.” He shuddered, his hands closing into fists in front of him, arms drawn in close to his chest.
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