Lady in Red

by Stacy Claflin

  Now she was upstairs, working through one of the rooms they hadn’t gotten to yet. They’d managed to sell a lot of the old owner’s belongings, but they still had so much more to deal with. The priority had been the bedrooms and other common areas—the living room, kitchen, bathrooms, and rec room. There were still closets galore, a den, a few other random rooms, and the attic.

  After the busyness of the double murder Nick wanted nothing more than to collapse, but he couldn’t let another moment pass with things awkward between him and Genevieve.

  If only he could pull himself away from the couch. But even then, she wouldn’t want to talk to him. That was a given, the way she’d hurried upstairs after they got dinner cleaned up with barely two words spoken between them.

  He hated this. His heart ached like it hadn’t in some time. He struggled past his exhaustion, forced himself to his feet, and trudged up the stairs. In his mind, Genevieve told him to go away.

  But he wouldn’t. He had to get to the bottom of this. They needed to work this out, and fast.

  How could they be having problems like this? What had he done to shut her out?

  There was only one way to find out. He pushed himself down the hall. It felt a thousand feet long. Maybe a million. The door to the room she was in taunted him. He could almost hear the laughter.

  He really needed to get some sleep. But not until he at least tried to make things right with his fiancée. This couldn’t wait another moment.

  Nick stopped outside the door. He could hear movement inside.

  Scratch. Creak. Thunk.

  His breath hitched, his legs readied themselves to flee.

  What was going on with him? He was a police captain. A full precinct of officers, detectives, and other men and women of the law did as he said. He’d faced off with criminals of all sorts.

  He could face the woman he loved and find out what he’d done to upset their happy relationship.

  Nick knocked as he opened the door and stepped inside the den.

  Genevieve looked up from behind a massive desk, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wiped her forehead, smearing a trail of dust across it. She arched a brow and tilted her head. “Am I making too much noise?”

  He shook his head and stepped around the items on the floor that had once belonged to a televangelist but were now theirs. He nearly tripped as he went around the desk but caught himself, regaining his footing. “I’m worried about you.”

  She looked away. “I’m fine. Could probably use a dust mask, though.”

  “That isn’t what I meant, but I can find you one.”

  She sneezed. “I’d appreciate it. Given the layer of dust, I’d guess nobody had been in here for the last ten years.”

  “Technically, the realtor was showing people around. We saw it.”

  “You know what I mean.” She yanked open a drawer and looked down at the contents.

  He stepped closer and gently rested his hand on her arm.

  She flinched at his touch.

  “I really am worried about you, G. What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She yanked the drawer completely out and dumped the contents onto the top of the desk, causing a plume of dust to rise. “I’m serious about needing a mask. Mind finding me one?”

  “There’s a box downstairs near the front door, but I—”

  “Great. I’ll get it.” She sneezed again, then went around the other side of the desk.

  Nick maneuvered himself around and beat her to the door, taking her hand in his. “What did I do?”

  She kept her gaze averted. “Nothing. I swear.”

  “Then why are you pushing me away? It’s been more than a full day now. Something is clearly going on.”

  Genevieve sighed. “You didn’t do anything.”

  “Then what has you so upset?”

  She licked her lips and looked around. “This room is what’s wrong! And we have so many more just like it. I’m beginning to think we were crazy to buy this house—and not just because of the dead body or the woman in the red dress. Do you know how many hours we’ve spent cleaning? How many trips to the dump? How many—”

  “Yes. I’ve been here for all of it. Why are you so upset about it all of a sudden? I thought you were enjoying the adventure.”

  “I just want it to feel like our house!” She finally looked at him, and tears shone in her eyes.

  It was like a knife to his heart. “What’s really wrong, G?”

  She blinked quickly. “I just told you. The house.”

  He cupped her chin and held her gaze. “This isn’t like you. Why are you so upset? Pushing me away? You’ve been so excited about going through all of this stuff—the rare finds, selling the stuff we don’t want to the auction place. It usually makes your face light up, not bring tears to your eyes.”

  She sighed and pulled away. “It’s nothing.”

  “You and I both know that isn’t true. Why won’t you tell me? You can talk to me about anything. I’m here for you.” He hesitated, not wanting to ask the next question. “Are you having second thoughts about getting married?”

  Her mouth gaped. She didn’t answer.

  Nick’s stomach dropped. “You’re having second thoughts? Why?”

  She stepped back and swallowed. “No. That’s not it, I promise.”

  “What then?” he exclaimed. “What did I do? And why won’t you tell me?”

  Genevieve took another step back, stumbled over something.

  Nick leaped over a pile of papers and steadied her. “Please let me in. Not only can I help, but I want to. Let me.”

  “You can’t do anything!” A single tear slid down her face.

  “I’m a resourceful guy. Let me try.”

  Her gaze darted around the room before she finally looked at him. Her expression tightened. “I’m having a medical issue, Nick.” Her tone held the weight of the world.

  Everything spun around Nick. Did she get bad news? Was she sick? He’d heard about four different cancer diagnoses in the last month.

  What would he do if he was about to receive the fifth? He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate. The silence in the air was too thick to breathe.

  “What is it?” he finally asked.

  Genevieve took another step away from him. “I haven’t had a period in almost three months.”

  “What?” His stomach dropped and his heart thundered. “Are you—”

  “No.” More tears fell from her eyes.

  “I don’t understand. If you aren’t—”

  “Don’t say that word. Please.” She played with her engagement ring. “I’m trying to process it myself.”

  He took a step closer, his heart hammering. “Process what? Whatever it is, we can get through this together.”

  Genevieve kept her attention on her hand. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice cracked. “Not right now.”

  Nick pulled her into his embrace. “G, we’re a team now. I’m here for you no matter what. Please tell me.”

  She sniffled. “I’ve taken a bunch of tests. They’re all negative.”

  “Your cycle is off from all the stress?”

  “I probably can’t have children, Nick.” She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes. “My mom went through early menopause in her thirties. I must be going through it now, in my twenties.”

  “Are you sure? Have you seen a doctor?”

  She wiped her eyes. “Not yet, but it doesn’t matter. I know what she’s going to say. There goes the dream of having a baby together.”

  He wiped away a tear from her face. “As long as I have you, safe and healthy, I don’t care about anything else.”

  “But I want to have a baby! I love the four we have, but I want to have a child with you. See a little face that’s half you and half me. It’ll break my heart if that never happens!” She collapsed against him and sobbed.

  Nick rubbed her back and let the news sink in. “Let’s make you an appointm
ent before we jump to conclusions.”

  “Jump to conclusions?” Her eyebrows drew together. “I’m following in my mom’s footsteps!”

  He considered his wording carefully. “Why don’t we talk to your doctor, anyway? She might have some ideas we haven’t considered. I know this is scary, but there could be new technology that wasn’t available to your mom. Let’s at least look into it.”

  Genevieve pulled back and looked at Nick with red eyes and mascara smeared all around her eyes. She sniffled. “Sorry about your shirt.”

  He glanced down at his white shirt with black streaked across it. “I can buy another. I’m more worried about you.”

  She drew in a deep breath. “I didn't mean to pull away from you. It’s just …” She gasped for air and sniffled. “When you said they were your kids—which I know they are—the news really hit me. I might never get to really be a mom.”

  A lump formed in his throat. He wished he could take away her pain. “But you are a mom. You’re definitely Tinsley’s mom, not only legally but emotionally.”

  She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “The moment she thought she saw Saige, she took off. We don’t have that bond that every birth child and parent have.”

  Nick knew the importance of sharing genetics with a child—he knew it more than anyone after everything he’d been through with Parker. He’d never forget the moment he found out Parker might not be his biologically.

  It had gutted him. Then he’d wasted so much time avoiding the test results. And then he’d gotten the worst news possible. His son wasn’t his, and he had to tell him. He would never forget the look on Parker’s face. It was probably the same look he himself had had when he found out.

  Nick wrapped his arms around his fiancée again, his pulse drumming in his ears, and pulled her hair band out. He ran his fingers through the length of her hair. “Tinsley was confused when she ran off. She woke up and didn’t know what was going on. You’re her mom.”

  “It isn’t the same!” Her voice wobbled. “Nor is it with your kids—and you’re right to call them yours. They are yours.”

  He shook his head, guilt crushing his chest. “It was a slip of the tongue, and if you want to get technical, Parker isn’t mine. Remember how distraught I was over that news? I know how you feel.”

  “Except you do have kids of your own. I might never.” She shook.

  “We’ll spare no expense if that’s what it comes down to. There are plenty of options, and we’ll give every one of them a try. Five times, if we have to. We’ll live off ramen noodles.”

  She looked up at him, a tear clinging to her lashes. “For a fifth child? Really? We already have our hands full as it is.”

  “You deserve to have as many babies as you want, and I want that for you. If you want four more, we’ll make that happen.”

  Genevieve shook her head. “You can’t mean that. You’d actually agree to eight kids?”

  The thought made his stomach knot, but he nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

  One corner of her mouth twitched. “I appreciate that, but I don’t want eight kids anymore than you do. I’d be thrilled with one—especially after this.”

  Nick kissed the top of her head. “We’ll get through this together. Do you want me to make the appointment?”

  She drew a deep breath. “I already have one for tomorrow during my lunch break.”

  “You were going to go without telling me?”

  “I couldn’t bear to.”

  He laced his fingers through hers. “I wish you’d have told me about this sooner. I’ll go with you tomorrow. What time exactly?”

  “Twelve-thirty.”

  “I’ll be there at twelve-fifteen.”

  More tears shone in her eyes. “You don’t have to.”

  “I want to. In fact, good luck keeping me away.”

  She smiled. “Is that a dare?”

  He leaned over and pressed his lips on hers. “Yes. Nothing will stop me from being there for you.”

  Chapter 17

  Alex turned the knob to the apartment door, full from having eaten too much dinner.

  “Wait!”

  He turned to see Ariana, her face pale. “Everything okay?”

  She hesitated. “Yeah. Can we talk?”

  “Of course.” It was such a relief to have everything back to normal after she’d pushed him away so harshly just weeks before. “What about?”

  “Can we go out front and shoot hoops?”

  “You want to play basketball?” he asked. They hadn’t done that in years. “You sure things are okay?”

  “Yeah. I just used to like our talks when we were throwing the ball.”

  “Sure. Just let me tell your mom where I’ll be. I was going to help with the babies.”

  Ari’s expression fell. “Don’t worry about it. Help with the twins.”

  He studied her. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Her shoulders slumped and she headed out of the kitchen.

  “Ari.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Alex glanced back and forth between the door to the apartment and his daughter. He chased after Ari. “I have a better idea than basketball. Let’s get some ice cream and go to the park. Sound good?”

  His full stomach protested, but he ignored it.

  Ariana shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I have homework, anyway.”

  “I’ll just text Mom and let her know what’s going on. No biggie.”

  “You sure?” She stood a little taller.

  “Of course. I’m sure the twins are fine. They’re getting older, more independent.”

  Alex sent Zoey a quick text.

  Alex: Ari wants to talk. Going to the park.

  Zoey: Everything OK?

  Alex: That’s what I’m gonna find out.

  Zoey: I’ll just be getting the twins to bed. LMK if u need anything.

  Alex: Will do. Love u.

  Zoey: U 2

  “Is Mom okay with it?” Ari asked.

  “Of course.” Alex put his arm around her shoulders. They headed through the front door, waving to Valerie and Kenji on their way out.

  In the car, Alex found her favorite music and turned the volume up, but not so loud they couldn’t talk over it.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  She sighed. “A lot.”

  “Lay it on me, kiddo.”

  “I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.”

  “You’ll always be a kid to me, kid.” He glanced over to see if he got even a small smile.

  Nope.

  “What’s on your mind? This isn’t like you.”

  She shrugged.

  He didn’t push it. Once they were in the park with their ice creams, she’d start talking. It had always worked in the past.

  Ariana picked mint chocolate chip.

  “Not cotton candy?” he asked.

  “Dad, seriously.”

  “What?”

  She rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not a kid anymore.”

  “You can still enjoy cotton candy ice cream.” And to prove it, he ordered a cone for himself.

  They made their way to the park just a block away. He and Ari sat on a bench overlooking the small lake.

  “How’s the mint chocolate chip?” Alex asked.

  “Not as good as the cotton candy.”

  He held back a playful I-told-you-so smirk. “Huh. Who’d have guessed?”

  “Dad.” She shoved him.

  Alex laughed. “Want to trade?”

  She looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Or not. I’m really enjoying this cone.”

  “You’d actually trade?”

  He held out his cone.

  She looked back and forth between it and him.

  Alex inched it forward.

  Ariana took it and shoved hers into his hand.

  “Told you,” he teased.

  She glared at him, but then laughed.
>
  They ate the cones in silence and watched as six ducks waddled past, quacking at each other, then splashed around in the water.

  Alex finished his ice cream first. “What’s on your mind?”

  She took a deep breath, frowned, and turned to him. “You know I love you, right?”

  “Where’s this going?” His stomach knotted. He was pretty sure he’d started several conversations with his parents with those exact words—and he never had good news.

  Ariana didn’t reply. She took a few minutes to finish her cone.

  It gave Alex plenty of time to imagine the worst possible outcomes. And given that he had been younger than she was now when he’d gotten Zoey pregnant, his imagination was running wild. But his daughter was the opposite of him at that age. No smoking, no drugs, none of that. She was all about good grades and getting into college. And her older boyfriend.

  He silently begged her not to tell him she was pregnant.

  After what felt like an eternity, she finally finished the cone and turned to him. “Dad, you can trust me, right?”

  He nodded. “I think so.”

  She tilted her head. “You think?”

  “I’m not sure what you’re about to say, and that makes me nervous.”

  “You face off with drug lords daily, and I make you nervous?”

  He snorted. “I faced off with a drug lord once. Paperwork is usually my worst opponent.”

  Ari’s expression tightened. “You deal with thieves every day.”

  “Yeah, but most of them are idiots. Not real threats. Quit trying to change the subject. Why shouldn’t I trust you?”

  “That’s not what I said.” She gave him an exasperated look.

  “What did you say?”

  She sighed dramatically. “I’m trustworthy, right? I get good grades and academic awards, and I don’t get into trouble at school. In fact, I tutor other kids. And I help with the twins. I do my chores.”

  “What do you want?” Alex asked, seeing where this was going. He knew that angle all too well.

  “How’d you know?”

  “I practically invented the buttering up technique. Just ask Grandma and Grandpa.”

  Her shoulders slumped.

  “Lay it on me, oh perfect child of mine.”