Single Dad's Wife (Fake Marriage Romance)

by Lara Swann

  Single Dad’s Wife

  A Fake Marriage Romance

  Lara Swann

  Copyright © 2020 Lara Swann

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Image: Photo Credit Oleh Phoenix, Shutterstock.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue and everything else are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to people or events, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Mailing List

  More Books by Lara Swann

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Nathan

  I glance at the clock on the wall again, my fingers tapping impatiently at the table as I wait.

  She’s late.

  It doesn’t surprise me - not after all the times I kept her waiting in the past - but that doesn’t make it any less irritating. Most of the time I wouldn’t let something that petty bother me, but I already feel tense and on edge just at the thought of this meeting. I don’t need any extra time to stew over it.

  The bell over the door chimes as it opens - and I look up to see her walk in. Pause. Scout the room. Then recognition flashes and she finally starts walking over, her stride purposeful and determined.

  I take a deep breath, my gaze tracking her movements as she makes her way toward me. She looks good, I’ll give her that. Her skin has a warm sun-kissed look that wasn’t there the last time I saw her and her dark hair glistens as it curls around her shoulders. Her eyes are clear and bright in her delicately made-up face and she seems somehow more vibrant than I remember. I don’t know whether that’s just my mind playing tricks on me, but seeing her hits me harder than I expected - and by the time I get my breath back, she’s slipping into the booth opposite me.

  “Nathan.” She says, regarding me evenly.

  “Stephanie.” I return, though it comes out more clipped than I intended.

  My fingers are still drumming on the table, and I don’t try to hide that as we look at each other. She doesn’t need to think I’m happy about this meeting. A waitress comes over before either of us can say anything more and Stephanie orders one of those fancy sugar-and-cream specialty coffees they don’t really do in a diner like this. The woman turns to me but I shake my head, my hands curling around the mug of black coffee already in front of me, finding the bitter scent of it oddly reassuring.

  “Thanks for meeting me here.” Stephanie says, then lets out a long breath, her cheeks puffing out as she does. “Listen, there’s no point dragging this out - I’m just going to come right out and say it. I’m moving back, Nate. For Emma.”

  It hits me like a sucker punch to the gut.

  I’d guessed that’s what this was about. I mean, why else would she ask to meet me here, in person, after two years without a word? But still, actually hearing her say it is something else entirely.

  My stomach twists itself up in knots as it hits me.

  I’m going to see her casually around town. Hear what’s going on in her life.

  Manchester might not be a small town, but it isn’t exactly a city either. Who the hell knows if it’s going to be big enough for both of us.

  And Emma…Emma…I’m going to have to deal with her seeing my daughter. Our daughter. All the scheduling and splitting time and crap that I’ve managed to avoid so far. That was the only good thing about her disappearing the way she did - not having to deal with any of that shit. But now…now…fuck.

  “When?” I finally ask, trying not to show any of the emotional storm raging through me. I’m sure my reluctance is obvious, but she would have been expecting that. I just don’t want her to see how this is affecting me.

  “In a few months. I’ve still got a few things to sort out abroad - a villa to rent out, some things to put in storage, others to ship home, that sort of thing - but I’ve made my decision, so it’s just a matter of time. Then I’ll be back here. In Connecticut.”

  “In Manchester?”

  “Yes.” She nods. “In Manchester.”

  I return the nod, even as the barely half-formed hope dies at her words. She used to complain about living here enough that part of me was starting to think that maybe she wouldn’t come back to my town exactly. She could pick Hartford, that’s a little bigger and still really close, or somewhere further afield…but no.

  She came back to be near Emma, so this is where she’s going to be.

  I try to remind myself that that’s what this is about - and to tell myself it’s not all bad.

  Emma should have a chance to know her Mom. She should be able to grow up without feeling abandoned, and without endless questions that there are simply no answers to. So far, I haven’t had to deal with all that. She’s too young for it - but I’ve always known it’s only a matter of time, and I can’t deny I’ve been dreading it.

  Just because you’re still angry…just because it makes you uncomfortable…doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it for your little girl.

  “Of course, I’ll still have a lot to sort once I’m back, too.” Stephanie continues. “I have no idea where I’m going to live yet and it’ll take a while to get everything set up, but once I do…we should talk about things. About Emma.”

  The waitress returns with her coffee, cream dripping down the outside, and she gives it a slightly dubious glance before wiping it down with a napkin and using a spoon to scoop off some of the excess. After she’s got it arranged to her liking, she starts sipping at it, offering me a small, cautious smile. My response is stiff, but the way we’re managing this so far at least gives me some hope that we might be able to work this out together after all.

  Even if seeing her again is harder than I expected, I’ve been over what happened between us for a long time now, so maybe if she really proves herself—if she makes up for leaving like that—then after a while, a long while, I might be able to get over the urge to take Emma and hide her away, to protect my little girl from the risk of ever being let down or disappointed again. Even if she was barely aware of the first time.

  “Yeah.” I say slowly. “Okay. We’ll…we’ll do that.”

  “Great. Thank you, Nathan. I’m glad you’re being so understanding about all this.” Her smile deepens, softening the lines on her face and almost making me remember the girl I met all those years ago. “I know it will take some time, and it’ll be hard with all the…things…between us, but this is what’s best for our baby. For that, I’m sure we can make it work.”

  “She’s not a baby anymore.” I say quietly, unable to help myself. “She’s three years old.”

  Without even trying, my lively little girl comes straight back to the front of my mind, the way she giggled and squirmed as I tri
ed to make eating breakfast together a game…the kind of game that might not make me late for work this time. Yeah, it’s been hard these last couple of years, but everything about it has been worth it.

  Knowing that she’s waiting back at home for me as soon as we’re finished only makes me more impatient for us to be done here.

  “Three years old. I guess I’ve got a lot to adjust to.” Stephanie repeats, with a hint of wonder. Irritation flares as I realize she hasn’t even kept track of that. She never called or messaged on either of those special early birthdays she missed, but I can’t believe she was that self-absorbed she never thought about her little girl getting older while she was off doing who-knows-what. She doesn’t seem to notice though, giving me a half-smile as she continues. “She’ll have a lot to adjust to as well, I guess, but we’ll do it slowly - make it a gradual thing, so that she’s comfortable. It’s not like I’m expecting her to come live with me the moment I first step into my new house or anything.”

  She laughs lightly, but everything in me freezes up.

  “Wait—what.” I frown, the expression immediately deepening into a scowl before I’ve even managed to say anything. “She lives with me.”

  “Yes, at the moment. I know. And I’m sorry I’ve left you with her for so long, but I’m here now. I told you - I’ve come back to make a home for her.”

  “You didn’t—she’s not—she’s my daughter. I’m the one raising her—have been raising her, this whole time—you can’t—”

  “I know, I know. And you’ve done a great job while I’ve been gone, I’m sure, but surely you must know that she needs her Mom. She’s a little girl—she has to have—”

  “No. Absolutely not.” I say, barely contained rage fueling my words. “What the hell, Stephanie?! Just trusting you enough to let you see her is fucking hard right now. You walked out on us, you don’t get to come back and start—”

  “I walked out on you. Not her.” She fires back, her own eyes blazing.

  “Well, it sure felt like the same thing from over here.” I say, not bothering to soften the acidity there.

  “Look—I know that was wrong. I’m sorry about it.” She says, running a hand through her hair in distress and setting it into an artful disarray that only highlights her delicate features. Yeah, it’s not hard to see how I fell for her. Right now though, I’m sure as hell remembering all the reasons I ended up regretting it, too. “I wasn’t in the right headspace—I was lonely and miserable and you were never around—”

  “So you decided it was perfectly okay to jump into the bed of the first person who was.”

  It slips out before I can stop it, but I don’t exactly regret it. She might have a point - I wasn’t perfect, that’s for sure - but nothing—nothing—can excuse what she did. The affair—and especially, running out and leaving me alone with our baby like that. Leaving our daughter without a word.

  There’s a long moment of silence, but her eyes are just as hard when she finally looks at me.

  “That’s not fair.” She says quietly, even though it is, and I think we both know it. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue—”

  “Then maybe you should try not fucking suggesting taking my daughter away from me.”

  “She’s our daughter—”

  “No. She’s mine. You haven’t raised her. Until this moment, you’ve barely participated in her life at all. I’m doing you a courtesy considering letting you into it at all—but until you prove you’re going to stick around and be there for her, you’re owed nothing. You abandoned her—how the hell do I know you won’t do it again? She’s not a doll you can pick up and put down whenever the mood strikes you. She needs love, stability, support—”

  “How dare you?!” She interrupts, glaring at me full force now. “What do you think I came back for, if not for all of that?! I came back to be with her—to be her Mom—and I can do a hell of a better job at that than you. You were barely around the first eight months of her life—all you did was work—and you think I’m going to believe that’s all changed now? I don’t even know how you’re doing it—a dozen nannies on the go or something, hmm? I can promise you, living with me will be better for her than that. I can support the two of us while being home full time, there for her as she grows up—”

  “This is ridiculous.” I slam my hands down onto the table, preparing to walk out. “You signed away all these rights in the divorce documents you sent me. I have full custody of our daughter because you didn’t even care and I’m not about to give that up, so—”

  “I just wanted to get that done!” She bursts out, her expression turning frenzied and agitated as her voice rises. “I didn’t want to spend time arguing—I just wanted it over with! And I was in no position back then to have custody, I knew that, I was traveling—didn’t even have a set home—and couldn’t—couldn’t—it wouldn’t have been right for me to try to take care of a baby too, with the state I was in. But it’s different now. I’m coming back and—”

  “I don’t care.” I state bluntly, too angry to hear her out any longer. “You signed those documents and if you’ve changed your mind now—well, that’s tough. This is our little girl we’re talking about. You don’t get to just change your mind. It doesn’t work that way—and I don’t have to listen to this crap.”

  I stand up abruptly, totally done with this. I wanted to give her a chance - for Emma’s sake - but this is ridiculous. If this is how she’s going to act, there’s no way I’m trusting her with my daughter.

  “Come back if you want. Get yourself sorted out and drop this insanity. Then maybe we can talk about you seeing Emma—but not if I can’t trust you with what’s right for her.”

  “Yeah, because you have any idea what that is.” She mutters, but as I move to leave the booth, her gaze whips back to me. “I’m her Mom. I’m not about to start jumping through your hoops just to see my baby girl. If you’re not going to be reasonable about this, I’m sure I can find a judge who will.”

  I freeze, my blood chilling as I look back at her. It’s a stupid reaction - there’s no way that could ever work, but just the mention of it...

  “Yeah, sure. Good luck finding a judge who will overlook your total abandonment of our daughter to overturn documents that you signed freely.”

  I force myself to move despite the leaden feeling in my limbs - but she’s not done.

  “You so sure about that? I had post-partnum depression and I was in no place to look after her or sign documents - but I am now. I have a clean bill of health and the medical records to back it all up. A change in circumstances like that is all I need to open a case - and don’t forget how important it is to the courts that a three-year-old girl grows up with a woman’s influence - her mother’s influence.”

  “Bullshit. You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.” I say, my voice low and angry as I push out of the booth and shake my head. “I’m done, Stephanie, I’m not hanging around for you to throw shit like this in my face.”

  I storm past her before she can say another word, my heart thudding madly in my chest as rage and fear swirl through me.

  She’s bluffing. She has to be. Stephanie always did like getting her own way, but there’s no way she’s going to go through all that for it - and even if she does, any judge with a shred of sanity will throw it out in a second.

  She abandoned Emma. She can’t take her away from me now.

  I tell myself I have nothing to worry about - that she’s just as likely to find some shiny new thing to pursue and never come back here as she is to start making trouble for me - but I can’t shake off the unease that easily.

  It stays with me as I storm out of the diner and into the fresh air. As I drive home with my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. As I hold my little girl tightly to me that night.

  Even as the days pass and I hear nothing else, my stomach is sick with dread and her words circle in my mind.

  Don’t forget how important it is to the courts that a three-year-old girl
grows up with a woman’s influence.

  Chapter One

  Jessica

  Two Months Later

  “I ’m sorry!” Hannah says, her voice wobbling as she looks up at her Mom with a distraught expression. “I thought I could deal with it myself—that it was just some stupid thing I did sometimes and that I’d stop any day now—but—but…”

  She takes a deep, shaky breath and raises her hand to her mouth, chewing on the end of her thumb nervously as she glances over at me.

  “It’s okay.” I say gently. “The important thing is that you’re telling us now - and that you want to get better, Hannah. That’s what matters.”

  I turn to Hannah’s mother, Debra, who’s still sitting there in shock. I don’t blame her.

  Hannah is a lively, outgoing girl who’s the very picture of happy and well adjusted. She’s bubbly and easy to like - spending most of our appointment today talking about her plans and ambitions for college next year - and over the three years she’s been with our practice I’ve enjoyed seeing her. I imagine both of them were expecting her to come away from her yearly physical with no issues and a clean bill of health - certainly not a discussion about bulimia.

  “It’s going to be okay.” I say to Debra, putting all the reassurance I can muster into my voice. I know how hard this is for her - far too well. “We’ve caught this early, and that makes recovery so much easier.”

  “But…I had no idea.” Debra says, disbelief still echoing in her voice. She isn’t looking at me - all her attention is focused on her daughter. “How could I not have known? You just—you seem so—so—”

  “There’s no reason you would have known.” I put in, trying to be soothing even as I cut her off.

  I know exactly what she’s thinking - Hannah is a totally normal weight and to anyone else would seem perfectly healthy - but I don’t want this to turn into a discussion about weight that might put strain between them.

  “I only picked up on it because I know the signs - and I knew which questions to ask.” I continue. “But even then…if Hannah hadn’t told me about it, I wouldn’t have been certain. Really, she deserves all the credit for being strong enough for that.”