Dirty Forever (The Dirty Suburbs Book 8)

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  Today is his first day home since quitting his job. It’s nice to see him standing here watching the sun rise instead of rushing out the door in the predawn hours.

  Apparently, he doesn’t share my sentiment. His posture goes tense at my touch. His spine is ramrod straight and it almost feels like he’s holding his breath. “Morning,” he says flatly, barely turning around to look at me.

  “You okay?” I ask, leaning a hip against the counter right next to the dish rack. I look up at him and a dark shadow of worry obscures his handsome features. His jaw ticks from all the tension.

  He shuts off the pipe and drops his cup into the rack. “I’m great.”

  He’s anything but great. His tone is hard and his body language is edgy. He turns toward the stove and grabs the towel hanging on the handle bar to dry off his hands.

  I stay put but my eyes follow his every little movement. “You didn’t come to bed last night…”

  “Fell asleep on the couch.” That’s all he gives me.

  Now, anxiety is beginning to crawl into my limbs. Fuck! I knew it would be too much for him. I told him that he didn’t have to quit his job. I didn’t need him to do that to prove to me that he was committed. I knew he wouldn’t be happy giving up his profession completely.

  But he insisted. He wanted to make a grand gesture to prove to me that he was serious about fixing our relationship. Well now, it’s backfiring. He’s having second thoughts, I just know it.

  “Don’t you dare shut down on me, Daniel Trotten,” I say in a low warning tone that quivers only slightly. “We just fixed this thing. We fought hard for it. I’m not going to let you shut down on me.”

  He finally turns and looks at me. “No baby,” he says with urgency in his voice, “I’m not shutting down on you. It’s just…There’s—there’s something I need to take care of…I…I…”

  “Care to elaborate?” I ask. There’s a snarky tone to my question but it’s just a smokescreen to hide the quavering of my insides. I cross my arms over my chest to keep my heart from beating its way out of my ribcage.

  “Just…just let me take care of it,” he says almost pleading, “Let me take care of it. Let me fix it. And then…and then everything will be fine.”

  Okay, now he’s really scaring me. My husband is the most confident man I know. He’s so confident that it’s obnoxious. So for him to be stammering about like a bumbling fool, I think I have every right to be alarmed.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my words trembling.

  He comes closer and braces me by the shoulders. His eyes hook on mine for a long, searching minute. “You trust me, right?”

  I swallow hard. This isn’t good. Whatever it is, it isn’t good. Still, I nod and answer the question truthfully. “Yes, I trust you.” Even though, right now, I’m not so sure that’s such a good idea.

  He kisses my forehead and without another word, he grabs his car keys and heads for the back door.

  “Where are you going?” I demand, my arms still wrapped around me, holding me together.

  He looks back with an ominous gaze. “I love you…”

  He slams the door behind him and hurries down the driveway to his car.

  Chapter 37

  Grace

  I steer my minivan to the curb outside of the Planned Parenthood clinic as Lily continues to rummage around in her purse.

  “It’s got to be in here somewhere,” she mumbles as she sifts through receipts and coupons and other random scraps of paper in her bag.

  I sit rigid, strapped to my seat, jaw clenched, still stressed out about the way Daniel rushed out of the house a few hours ago. I tried calling his phone but then I realized that he’d left it on its charger in the living room. I’ve been praying silently all day, hoping that I’m just overreacting about nothing. I can’t handle another crisis in my marriage right now. Not when Daniel and I have just finished making amends. We need normal. We deserve normal.

  “Okay, here it is,” my sister says triumphantly as she pulls a pink business card from the depths of her tote bag and stretches it out to me.

  “Lily, it’s okay. I really don’t need it.” I recoil in my seat.

  She pouts, waving the card in the air. “Gracie, it won’t bite you.”

  Sighing, I give in and pluck the card out of her hand. “Fine. I’ll take the doctor’s phone number, okay? Are you happy now?”

  “I’m just looking out for you, sis. That’s all. You’ve been living in limbo for far too long. It’s time for you to see a specialist and get things checked out so you know once and for all if you’re able to get pregnant or not. You need some closure.”

  I flop back against my seat. “I know you’re right. It’s just…things are finally starting to settle down in my house again. I don’t want to upset that with bad news.”

  She reaches across the gear console and squeezes my hand. “Sweetie, don’t forget the possibility that the doctor might run some tests and confirm that you’ve been worrying for nothing. Then, you and Daniel can get to work and have a few dozen babies!”

  Her optimism gets me to smile.

  “Doctor Maddow is the best OB/GYN in the state. Just make an appointment. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I shove the business card into my purse. “I will.”

  Lily checks the time on the dashboard. “Shoot – I’m going to be late for my own appointment,” she laughs as she pops off her seatbelt and opens the door.

  “Hey, Lil,” I call out. She bends into the open window. “Thanks for supporting me. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” She winks.

  I lean across the front seat and look at her, standing there on the sidewalk. “You sure you don’t need me to go with you?” Jakob usually takes her to all of her prenatal check-ups but his truck broke down this morning so I offered to drop her off.

  She grins and shakes her head. “No, no. I’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re still here when I get out because if I have to waddle all the way back to the farm, I’ll be delivering your nephew on the side of the road in the middle of the night.”

  “I’ll be here,” I assure her, watching as she plods up the stairs and disappears into the clinic.

  Time drags on as I wait. To occupy myself, I check out Dr. Maddow’s website on my phone and read various testimonials from his patients on different internet forums. He seems to have an excellent track record and lots of people in the medical community hold him in high esteem. Maybe I will make an appointment with him.

  I’ve almost forgotten about Daniel’s bizarre behavior earlier today until the clinic door swings open and a familiar pair of black and gray sneakers come into view. My gaze travels up the dark jeans to the black fleece sweater covering those broad shoulders. His jaw is clenched as tight as it was this morning at the kitchen sink and his eyes are even darker. The impact is like being bulldozed by a speeding freight train when Brittany Delaney stumbles out of the clinic behind him and rubs small circles in the middle of his back.

  My heart stops beating when my husband covers his face with his palm and he breaks down sobbing.

  Chapter 38

  Daniel

  With dithery steps, I enter the kitchen. Grace is standing in front of the sink, facing the window overlooking the back yard. An orange leaf falls lazily from the maple tree out back and my gaze follows its leisurely trajectory.

  I don’t know how to say this. I don’t know how to tell her.

  I just got her back and when I drop this bombshell, I’ll lose her for sure.

  When Brittany came to my office yesterday and she told me about our child – Oh, god. Our child – I needed to see it in writing. I needed proof. That’s why I marched her down to the Planned Parenthood clinic with me. The test results were conclusive. I have a daughter.

  With Brittany Fucking Delaney.

  My marriage is over for real this time. I feel my breathing cycle speed up and my limbs go numb just as my head gets foggy. The floor seems to weave a little bit and I brace mysel
f against the doorframe, closing my eyes briefly to regain my balance. I feel a panic attack coming on.

  Without turning around to watch me, without even glancing at me over her shoulder, Grace sets down the half-empty bottle of red wine.

  "Is it chancroid...?" she whispers in a voice that's barely audible.

  My brows furrow at her odd question. "What?"

  "Is. It. Chancroid?" she repeats in a loud, unsteady tone. She finally spins around to face me. Her cheeks are red and her eyes are swollen. She wears the expression of a wild animal about to go into a fit of hysterics. "Or trichomoniasis? God, I hope it's not trichomoniasis. I don't deserve trichomoniasis...Mucopurulent cervicitis?" Her gaze moves to the ceiling. "Ah right, you don't have a cervix." Her eyes are back on me in a flash and her tone is laden with the sting of betrayal. "Wait – do you have a cervix?!"

  "Grace – what on earth are you talking about?"

  “Don’t play dumb with me. I know where you were this afternoon, you tricky little bastard. I know about Brittany Delaney. I saw you with her…” Her voice gets lost in her tightening throat. "How long do I have before the symptoms show up?" she blurts out quickly.

  I hold a hand out protectively in front of me. "Grace – I don't have a some obscure STD."

  "Do you have a common STD?" Bewilderment colors her brown irises.

  She might be a little drunk. Just a little.

  "No, no STDs at all. And no cervix, either." I almost want to laugh but the situation is far too grave.

  "Oh. Thank god," she exhales rapidly, her whole body heaving with relief. "I was going crazy with worry." She grabs the wine bottle and her head jerks back as she brings it to her lips, taking a long swallow.

  I wish that this was just one of those times where Grace is just overthinking everything and working herself up into a frenzy for no reason. It isn’t.

  "I have a daughter," I blurt before I chicken out.

  She freezes with the wine bottle lifted to her face. "You have a...?"

  My heart beats double-time and my fingers tingle. How am I going to make her understand? How am I going to get her to forgive me for this? Grace just took me back and it’s over already.

  "Angel, let me explain!" I take two steps toward her but her expression warns me not to get any closer.

  A fury so dark and penetrating permeates her features. It chills me. "With Brittany Delaney?"

  "It's not what you think." It's suddenly very hot in here. I feel sweat crawling down my back.

  “Another woman with your child, Daniel?” she hisses. “The thought of it makes me sick!”

  “Let me explain,” I beg, “Please.”

  She’s going to leave me. She’s going to take Sebastian and she’s going to leave me. She won’t stay in Reyfield. And I won’t see either of them ever again.

  “You told me you hadn’t been with anyone else when we were separated!” The accusation dripping from her tone is heavy and noxious.

  My voice is weak. “That’s the truth!”

  She snaps. “So, how the hell did Brittany Delaney end up pregnant?!”

  My regret is so deep. My chest aches. “It was a stupid mistake. I was so dumb.”

  She waves the wine bottle menacingly. “So again – how the hell did she end up pregnant, Daniel?”

  “We were both teenagers when it happened. We were stupid and horny and dumb.”

  Something in her falters. For a split second, her rage is replaced by confusion. “You’re not making any sense!”

  My eyes narrow on hers. “I don't know exactly what you think you saw today—”

  “I know that I saw you with Brittany outside of the family planning clinic this afternoon. You both had that 'oh shit' look on your faces. And you still haven’t denied that she’s having your baby. So what the hell am I supposed to think?”

  “Wait – Brittany isn’t pregnant right this minute, Grace. Not at all. I had sex with her once, years ago. We have an eight-year-old girl.”

  My wife’s face goes white as her eyes widen in disbelief.

  “I have an eight-year-old daughter. Her name’s Bella.” I repeat the words for Grace’s benefit and for mine. I think I’m still in shock.

  Her fingers touch her lips and she stands completely frozen. Even her tears seem to be frozen partway down her cheeks. “You have an eight-year-old daughter…?”

  “I’m sorry, Grace, but before I met you I was a young, dumb jock who wasn’t thinking about his future. I wasn’t thinking that I’d meet someone like you and that one stupid night with a girl like Brittany would come back to haunt me all these years later.”

  I can’t read her expression. I don’t know if she’s angry or sad or upset. I should give her time to process this situation. But I don’t have time because I’m not done explaining things to her and this next little bit of information is urgent.

  “Grace?” Her eyes move slowly to my face. “There’s more…”

  Chapter 39

  Grace

  I feel like someone just poured acid all over my body. Every inch of me burns. My vision goes wavy, like I'm staring at a mirage. My stomach roils and my shaky knees threaten to give way.

  My husband has a child. A little girl who was born before I ever met him. A little girl who was god-knows-where while I fell in love with him and married him and got mad at him and kicked him out of our home. While we were in this little suburb, bumbling our way toward this moment in time, a tiny human sharing Daniel’s DNA was taking her first steps, learning to ride a bike, mastering her ABCs in some other parallel universe. It’s surreal.

  I need a minute to compute all that.

  “Grace?” I blink out of my haze and my eyes move to his face. “There’s more…”

  My knees buckle and I sag against the counter behind me.

  With concern on his face, Daniel rushes over to me. Bracing an arm around my shoulder, he leads me to the kitchen table. I drop into a chair and he falls to his knees in front of me. “Hey…Are you okay?” He touches my face.

  I’m not okay. My head feels light and my gut churns like I could hurl that red wine right back up. But he said that there’s more and I need to know what it is. “What else do you have to tell me?” I question, the lilt in my voice, shaky and uncertain.

  Daniel drags in a long breath and his eyes fall to my lap. “Brittany doesn’t want her.”

  My head spins as he says those words. “What?”

  He shrugs helplessly. “She claims that she’s an actress and being a mother is getting in the way.” He finally looks up at me. “I have to take my daughter, Grace. If I don’t, Brittany will do something stupid like put her up for adoption or leave her in foster care.”

  At those words, the first sob comes bursting out of my chest. “My god!”

  “After Brittany had the baby, she told everyone that she had given her up for adoption. That was a lie. The child was staying with her aunt the whole time while she ran around trying to be the next movie starlet. But her aunt just died and she has nowhere to leave the kid. My daughter has nowhere to go.”

  Realization pours over me. That child that Lily thought might have been Jakob’s, that child that Brittany supposedly gave up for adoption…she was Daniel’s all along.

  I’m shaking violently at his words. I feel like all my brain synapses have fried out.

  “Grace…” He tries to be soothing but he himself is falling apart. How could a woman be so cruel to her own child? I would give anything to be allowed the gift of another pregnancy. Yet, here is this Brittany-woman, lucky enough to have a child and she wants to give her away.

  “Shit!” All I can do is repeat the word over and over, shaking my head as warm, salty tears roll over my cheeks. “Shit shit shit!” Disbelief sweeps through me.

  His voice goes gravelly as he runs his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you again. And here I am breaking your heart all over again. But we need to take that little girl, baby. I’m so sorry. I know it’s n
ot what you want but we need to take her…”

  Daniel continues to stare at me, trying to work out what the hell I’m thinking.

  “Of course we’ll take her,” I whisper. “Of course we will.”

  He gasps hard. “Are you sure?” He’s no doubt shocked at my response.

  “Daniel – she’s your blood. Sebastian’s big sister. You think I would let her end up in foster care?”