Wrong Number: A Forbidden Love Age-Gap Romance

by Iris Trovao

  “I’ll get her to come down.” She pointed a stern finger at her parents. “Then it’s family meeting time.” She stormed out of the kitchen, and Gina burst into a fresh set of tears.

  “When did she grow into an adult?” Carson murmured, shaking his head in awe.

  Gina wiped furiously at her face, shaking her head. An overwhelming urge to comfort her washed over him. His pregnant wife was crying, and it turned his insides to steel, that protective instinct nearly taking over. He wanted to hold her and tell her it was going to be okay. That he was here.

  Except it wasn’t going to be okay. Because she was pregnant with another man’s child. And Carson wasn’t going to be there.

  He swallowed hard and moved past her to the hallway, quietly standing at the bottom of the stairs as Lily rapped on her sister’s door.

  “I’m staying in here!” Rose screamed from inside.

  “It’s me,” Lily said gently. “Can I come in?”

  “No!” The younger girl’s voice went up an octave, her vigour seemingly renewed. “You told me they wouldn't get divorced until we were grown-ups!”

  Carson’s heart shattered into a million pieces. How long had they known? How many times had they talked about their parents’ broken marriage? Hot coils of shame tightened around his heart that his eldest daughter had been pseudo-parenting the younger. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he screwed them shut, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep the waves at bay.

  “I know, I know I said that,” Lily replied, voice level and calm. “I wasn’t lying. I was wrong but I wasn’t lying.” She paused. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Carson startled, his eyes flying open as Gina sidled up next to him, peering around the wall at her daughter. She looked so child-like in that moment, with her wide, terrified eyes.

  “Mom’s p-pregnant!” Rose wailed. “But it’s not dad’s so now they’re going to get divorced and we don’t get to be around the baby!”

  Lily pressed her palms flat against the door, resting her forehead against it as her eyes fluttered shut.

  Carson’s gut dropped like a stone, nearly dragging his body down with it. He hadn’t wanted them to find out this way. Originally he hadn’t wanted them to find out at all, but after Thad…he’d envisioned sitting down as a family and calmly explaining and discussing… It seemed as though that had been a pipe dream.

  “If it’s mom’s baby then it’ll be our half-sibling,” Lily said, her voice trembling a little, though she seemed to be taking great pains to steady it. “We’ll still get to be around them.”

  “It’s not the same,” Rose said, and her muffled voice sounded closer, as if she were directly on the other side of the door. “Why don’t they love each other anymore?”

  Gina covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob, and Carson once again fought the urge to pull her against him. He wondered if she’d let him, or if she’d shove him away.

  “It just happens with people sometimes, Rosie,” Lily said, her forehead still resting on the door. “Remember Auntie Pat and Uncle Joe? They’re still friends and we still get to see them both even though they’re divorced.”

  “But why does it happen?” Rose demanded, and there was a thump as though she'd smacked the wood. “Will it happen to us? Will you just stop being my sister one day?”

  “No,” Lily said firmly, eyes flying open. “That’s impossible. And super different. We were born sisters and we’re always gonna be sisters.”

  A swell of pride rose in Carson's chest at his daughter’s words, soothing the overwhelming sadness over Rose’s fears. How did one explain to a fourteen-year-old the difference between unconditional familial love and romantic love?

  He winced. He remembered what it felt like, marrying Gina. How it had felt like unconditional love. Like forever. How could something so powerful just slip away? Disappear like a puff of smoke?

  “Come on out, Rosie,” Lily said thickly, stepping back from the door and running her fingers underneath her eyes. “Mom and Dad are going to explain everything, okay?” She turned to Carson, her stare like daggers, and he forced himself to nod.

  They deserved the truth.

  After many tears, much reassurance, and some difficult questions, Carson sat by the fireplace with a fresh tea in hand, his eldest daughter curled into his side just like she used to cuddle up to him when she was little.

  Gina had taken Rose up to her bedroom, as she’d decided she needed a nap after such an intense conversation.

  “This sucks,” Lily murmured, “but I’m glad it’s out now.”

  He squeezed her closer to him. “I’m sorry we dragged it out so long. And sorry that we didn’t hide it as well as we thought we did.”

  “You didn’t hide it at all.” She sighed. “I can’t even think of the last time you guys were in the house at the same time. And we’re both old enough to remember what you were like when you were happy. I thought about saying something so many times…but I didn’t know what to say. And I figured once the cat was out of the bag, you guys would split up and…” She shook her head. “I did a lot of research you know, like on the internet, forums about relationships or advice for kids dealing with divorcing parents. So many of them said that if you can split and still be friends and co-parent properly then it’s setting a better example than pretending and having a big blowup thing.”

  Carson swallowed hard, staring at the flames. “They’re right.” He paused, taking a sip of his tea to make time to carefully choose his words. “This became a big blowup thing because we were both too afraid to address it…but at least we will be able to co-parent properly going forward.”

  “I don’t like that she cheated on you.” Lily sucked in her left cheek and chewed on it for a moment, a habit she’d had since she was a toddler when she was distressed and thinking too hard. “If Nick cheated on me I’d rip his nutsack off.”

  Carson couldn’t hold back the laugh that burst out of his throat. “Very visceral,” he said, and kissed the top of her head. “And he’d have an angry father to answer to as well.”

  She leaned back to look up at him. “Why aren’t you an angry husband though?”

  He sighed. “It’s complicated, honey.”

  “I’m not a little kid anymore, dad.” She sat up, shrugging out of his arm and crossing her own. “I’m almost a legal adult, actually.”

  Don’t I know it, he thought, taking a shaky sip of his tea.

  “Someday I might get married, and isn’t it your job to, like, teach me about complicated adult shit?”

  He furrowed his brow at her. “Language.”

  “Dad,” she scoffed, and rolled her eyes.

  Is this really a conversation I want to have with my teenager? A vision popped into his mind unbidden, of Lily as an adult, living in a loveless marriage, showing up at his door in tears because she’d been hurt by someone she cared about.

  “I don’t know what I can teach you,” he admitted. “I don’t want you to go through life not trusting people because of what happened between your parents. I don’t want you to live a jaded life without connecting with people. But I don’t want you to give yourself wholly to someone and make the same mistakes your mother and I did, either. Everyone is different, and every relationship is different.” He took a deep breath. “I knew she was with somebody else. But it’s what made her happy, and I wanted her to be happy. We were…misguided to continue being together.”

  Lily chewed her cheek again, curling back up against his side. “What’s this other guy like?” she asked softly. “Am I allowed to hate him?”

  Carson chuckled. “I think you should give him a chance. He’s very genuine. And he loves your mom a lot. And your…the baby.”

  “I’m excited for a baby.” She took a deep breath. “I think I'm going to go chill in my room. Are you gonna be okay here?”

  “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry about me. That’s not your job.”

  The
patronizing glare she shot him made him stifle a laugh, and he waved her off.

  “Go unwind,” he said. “I’ll order pizza in a bit.”

  “Okay, Dad.” She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

  He blinked back tears as she stood up. “I love you, too,” he said hoarsely.

  Carson sat there for a time, staring at the flames, until his mug was empty. He made his way to the kitchen, feeling lighter than he had in a long time despite the exhaustion creeping over him.

  His phone still sat on the counter, and he tapped the screen. He set his mug down with a clatter at the sight of a text message from Jane.

  As he read it, a smile crept over his face, and relief flooded him. He hadn’t realized how tight his shoulder muscles had been, and when they finally relaxed he nearly melted into a puddle on the tiles below.

  Glad to hear you’re okay, he typed back, and that you finally got some sleep.

  He rubbed his eyes, and glanced at the clock on his screen. Definitely enough time for a nap before pizza.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Hi,” Jolie said, swallowing hard as she stared at John’s still form.

  His bruises weren’t as ugly, faded to a sick yellow instead of angry purple. Small bandages adorned his body as opposed to giant wads of gauze. The machines keeping him alive were a series of clicks and beeps and a sucking sound that she assumed pumped air into his fragile lungs.

  She slipped her hand into his, the one without tubes snaking out of it. It felt alien, despite the amount of times that hand had touched her. Back when they were happy, when he’d thread his fingers through her hair, or wrap his arm around her hips, hooking his middle finger into her belt loop to hold her close while they walked.

  Stereotypical jock and popular girl…or at least, best friend of the popular girl. Their pack had gone to every game, cheering on their guys and getting high and drunk under the bleachers. Afterwards they’d go party, ending up in somebody’s basement or on the outskirts of town, cars parked in a circle out on the reserve, laying in the grass cuddling and laughing.

  “I don’t know…” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know where it went wrong with us. I mean…I guess I kinda do. If I look at it from the outside. I think we had fun as teenagers and then it was just expected that we stay together because it was just…what we were supposed to do. But it was stupid. Because we don’t fit together as adults.”

  She paused, as if it were his turn to speak, then remembered that he couldn’t and blinked rapidly at the tears threatening to spill out.

  “I still care about you. That never stopped, y’know?” She squeezed his hand. “We had that, like, teenage excitement and you were all my firsts…my only. But I think on the emotional side we were just really close friends. Which is cool. But we never should have gotten married. It was dumb. And then we continued to be dumb, dragging it out and being miserable.” She shook her head. “At least I was miserable…I don’t know if you were. You had work and the guys and whatever else you were doing I guess…I hope that stuff made you happy at least.”

  She wrapped her other hand over the back of his, clasping it between her palms. “I wish we could have had this conversation sooner. Like a real conversation, and not me just talking at you. I’m sorry I didn’t have the stones to do it.” This time she couldn’t blink back the tears, and they streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t know if I'm ever going to stop blaming myself for this, for what happened to you. But I need to make a conscious effort to try, because Alicia is doing it too. It’s not fair of me to try to get her to stop it if I'm not trying to stop.”

  She took in a deep, ragged breath, and wiped her cheeks. “I woke up in a hospital bed yesterday, and she was there,” she finally continued. “She was there for me. We flake out a lot, the three of us, but she sat here by your side and then came and sat by mine. I need to get my shit together.” She sniffled. “Y’know they say people in comas can hear you, that you should talk to them…but I feel like that’s bullshit in your situation because your brain is—” She shook her head vigorously. “Don’t need to be an insensitive asshole, even if you can’t hear me or understand me.”

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. They were smooth today. She’d actually brushed them that morning. And showered. And put on clean clothes.

  “I guess all of this is just to say goodbye,” she whispered. “It feels stupid and selfish, because it’s not like it matters to you any. My own closure.”

  There was a clatter in the hallway.

  “You can’t do this!” somebody shrieked, and Jolie winced as more voices echoed in protest.

  It was John’s mother.

  “I had a feeling a shitstorm would be brewing,” she murmured, and gave John’s hand one last squeeze before letting him go.

  "Marissa, please,” Caleb protested, then the door flew open, the knob smacking into the rubber stopper on the wall hard enough for the heavy door to bounce.

  “You can’t kill my son!” Marissa rushed up to the side of the bed, clawing the blankets and gripping them hard as she leaned over, eyes wide. “You can’t do this, Jo, please don’t do this.”

  Caleb reached her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Marissa—”

  “I’m not talking to you!” she screeched, smacking his arm away. “Jo, you can’t do this. I don’t care what lies my husband filled your head with, you can’t.”

  “We can’t leave him like this,” Jolie said, raising her chin. She wished she was calmer, more of a stern front. She felt like a scolded child, and she squared her shoulders to avoid curling into herself. “He’s not going to wake up. It’s inhumane to keep him alive.”

  “Inhumane?!” Marissa cried. “It’s inhumane to kill my son!”

  “Mom,” Alicia snapped. “He’s gone, okay? I know it sucks but he’s gone.”

  Marissa dissolved into tears, falling into her daughter’s arms, and Jolie slumped back in her chair in relief. Caleb caught her gaze and gave her a polite nod, one that she assumed meant thank you, or something along those lines.

  She turned back to John, staring at him for another moment before standing up. She skirted around the distraught mother and her supportive daughter, heading out to speak with the doctor about the paperwork that would end her husband’s life.

  Just got home from my husband’s funeral, Jolie typed. That sucked. She hit send and tossed her phone on the bed before unfolding another cardboard box and bending down the flaps. She hissed as the tape dislodged itself from the roller and stuck to itself, the seam somehow disappearing into a void.

  She picked at it maniacally, tossing it down with a huff as her phone buzzed.

  Dr. Tweedledick: Condolences. That couldn’t have been easy.

  She wrinkled her nose. I mean…am I a terrible person if I say I feel kind of lighter now? Like I just…I dunno. She drummed her fingers on her thigh for a moment, finally hitting send.

  Dr. Tweedledick: That makes sense, you were in a limbo where you weren’t able to grieve him. Now you can properly.

  She drummed her fingers some more, chewing her bottom lip. Not properly, she sent back. I kinda quit drinking.

  Dr. Tweedledick: Kinda?

  And I’m going to see a counselor this week, she added. Be proud.

  “When the doctor friend tells you to see a doctor,” she muttered, and resumed her picking of the tape roll. She finally managed to find the edge, digging her nail beneath it. She peeled it back, grunting as the tape split, releasing only a tiny thin strip from the roll. “Who invented these fucking things?”

  She chucked the tape gun across the room as her phone buzzed again.

  Dr. Tweedledick: That’s great news. I think that could be really helpful.

  Jolie sighed and flopped down across the bed, hanging upside down off of the edge and holding her phone in front of her face.

  What about you, doc? You spend enough time yapping about my shit, she sent back. How are you? She often forgot when she was i
magining his glamorous doctor life that back on Valentine’s Day he’d mentioned his own marital troubles. Nobody’s life was perfect.

  The three little dots appeared, then disappeared. Then appeared, then disappeared.

  “Just spit it out,” she murmured, and couldn’t help but snicker at herself. How many times had she done this exact thing?

  Dr. Tweedledick: I’m divorcing my wife. She’s pregnant and it’s not mine.

  Jolie let out a low whistle, her eyes widening. Ugh that sucks, she sent back, wrinkling her nose. But she didn’t know what to say, really. Anything would be a vast understatement to what he was probably feeling.

  Dr. Tweedledick: It was hardest telling the girls, but I think they’re going to be okay.

  Jolie swallowed hard, sending back, Are YOU okay?

  Dr. Tweedledick: Yes, I think I finally am.

  Chapter Thirty

  Three months later…

  “I still don’t get the point of this, Dad,” Lily grunted as she swung hard, smacking her golf ball with all her might. It sailed halfway across the driving range, landing in the field of other little white balls. “Isn’t the point of this game to like, get it in a hole with a flag?”

  Carson laughed. “Yes.” He leaned down to set a fresh ball on the tee, and lined up his shot. “But this is far more entertaining. I tried regular golf in my search for a hobby and found that the only part I really enjoyed was smacking a ball as hard as I could.” He wound up, and let go, his driver connecting with the ball with a hearty thwack, sending it almost to the very back of the range.

  “Relieving some stress there, pops?” She leaned on her club, putting a hand on her hip and fixing him with a stern stare.

  He struggled with admitting to himself how Gina-like she was in that moment. As his girls grew into women, they were only going to remind him more and more of their mother, and he was working on coming to terms with that. At least it didn’t leave a dull ache in his heart anymore. These days, he more warred with the worry that they would adopt some of her lesser qualities.