What He Doesn't Know (What He Doesn't Know Duet Book 1)

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What He Doesn't Know (What He Doesn't Know Duet Book 1) Page 12

by Kandi Steiner


  I’d already had three cups of coffee by lunch, but I rounded the corner into the teachers’ café to fill up again, anyway.

  “I don’t know, I think it’s nice to see her so smiley again,” Sierra Maggert said as she mashed the buttons on the microwave with her pudgy fingers. She was a younger teacher, round in every way from her cheeks to her ankles, and one of the kindest members on the faculty in my opinion. She’d offered to sit with me every day that I’d been alone at lunch, and we’d spent quite a few afternoons talking about her dog, Buster, that she’d had to put on a diet last month.

  “Oh, it is,” the man next to her agreed. I didn’t recognize him. “I’m just saying it’s not like before. It’s not genuine, you know? It’s like that crazy kind of smiley you see from people who are faking that everything is fine before they crack and go on a killing spree.”

  She chuckled as the man continued.

  “But I mean, after what happened to her, I don’t know how she’s kept it together. While I still think she was getting her rocks off on an island somewhere, maybe those three days were spent in a mental hospital. Girl needed a breakdown.”

  Sierra clucked her tongue, but then her eyes found mine and she gave me a wide grin. “Hey there, Reese. Back for more coffee?”

  The man beside her sipped his own coffee, watching me over the top of his mug like I couldn’t be trusted. He’d mentioned someone being gone for three days, and Charlie shot immediately to the forefront of my mind. I wasn’t one for getting caught up in teacher gossip, but if they were talking about her, I wanted in.

  “Can’t get enough of it today,” I said, holding up my empty Thermos with a forced smile. I reached for the coffee pot to fill it, my eyes skirting from Sierra to her counterpart. “I’m Reese Walker.”

  Once my coffee was refilled, I extended a hand toward him, and he eyed it for a moment before tentatively reaching forward to grip it in a limp handshake. “Sheldon Mackabee. You’re the new music teacher, right? Piano guy.”

  “That’s me,” I said, fastening the top back on my Thermos. “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I overheard a bit of your conversation before I came in.” I shifted, debating my options on what to say next. I wanted them to trust me enough to tell me what they’d been talking about. “Care to fill the new guy in on the hottest gossip?”

  Sheldon narrowed his eyes, but Sierra lit up like I’d pressed all the right buttons for her at once.

  “Charlie Pierce,” she whispered, pulling her leftover container from the microwave and scooting closer to us. She swiped a plastic fork from the dispenser on the counter and stuck her freshly heated roast beef with it, dipping it in gravy and lifting it to her lips. “Sweet little kindergarten teacher. Know who she is?”

  The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, but I feigned disinterest, leaning a hip against the counter. “I’m familiar.”

  “Well,” Sierra continued. “She was out for a few days back in January, and ever since then, she’s been all happy go lucky. She hasn’t been that way with anyone other than her students in so long, it’s freaking everyone out a little. She’s almost back to being the person she was when she first started here.”

  Sheldon snorted. “No, she’s not. She’s faking like she’s happy. That said, she does have a little more of a pep in her step.” He pointed at Sierra. “I’m telling you, she got laid.”

  My jaw clenched at Sheldon’s remark, and even more at the fact that he was just as aware of the fact she was faking her happiness as I was.

  I forced a tight laugh. “Well, she’s married, isn’t she? I don’t think getting laid would constitute as a catalyst for a mood change.”

  Sheldon and Sierra exchanged a look.

  “I don’t know, that’s just my guess,” Sheldon said. “But after what happened to her, she deserves to get the sadness banged out of her.”

  I hated Sheldon.

  Sierra giggled, but then shook her head with a sigh. “It really is so sad, the poor thing.”

  I cleared my throat, debating if I should let on that I knew what they were talking about. About her loss. But then I realized she would have been very, very pregnant if she’d lasted eight months carrying twins — and then she’d come back after the summer no longer pregnant, and also without children.

  Of course, they all knew about what had happened.

  “It is sad,” I finally said. “I mean, I heard she lost them both…” I shook my head. “I can’t even imagine.”

  They both watched me then, exchanging another odd glance before Sheldon leaned in closer. “We’re not talking about her pregnancy, Reese. It’s what happened after.”

  “After?”

  Sheldon looked over his shoulder at a table of other teachers, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Her husband cheated on her about a year after it happened.”

  My eyes must have bulged out of my head, because both Sierra and Sheldon nodded with I know, right expressions.

  “Exactly,” Sheldon added, leaning back a bit and taking a sip of his coffee. “Some spicy blonde vixen he works with is what I heard. And hey, I don’t know that I could blame the guy. After Charlie became such a shell? And come on, that innocent school girl thing has to get old fast.” He shrugged. “I would want some tight bossy tail after going through what he did, too.”

  I ran my hand over my mouth, scrubbing the rough hair on my jaw and trying with every ounce of willpower I had not to show that I cared.

  And not to lodge my fist straight into Sheldon’s giant nose.

  “Anyway, I think she got laid. Revenge cheating. She ran away with some hot, young, single dad or something for a long weekend and came back freshly fucked.” Sheldon smiled, tilting his coffee toward me. “And to that I say, good for her.”

  Sierra finished chewing a large bite, washing it down with soda before changing the subject to her dog. I took the opportunity to politely excuse myself, and then my feet were moving me fast down the hall toward Charlie’s classroom.

  I had no idea why I was going there, or what I would say once I saw her. My thoughts were jumbled in a tangled mess of anger and confusion, and I was desperate to put the pieces together.

  But when I rounded the corner into her room and saw her there, thumbnail pinned between her teeth, book balanced in the other hand as her eyes devoured the page, all I could do was stop and watch her.

  How?

  How could he do that to her, to the woman he vowed to love forever, to the woman who vowed the same to him? More than that, more than just the promise of marriage, it was Charlie. She was broken and hurting, she’d lost their children — and he’d run out on her.

  I’m going to murder him.

  Then again, was it even true? Could I trust Sierra and douchebag Sheldon as reliable sources for anything? How did they even know about it, anyway — who was their source?

  There was a very distant part of me that realized how irrational I was being, that Charlie and I had perhaps tiptoed on that line of what was appropriate and what was not the night we went up the Incline. But I couldn’t see past the fact that whether I had proof or not, there was a possibility Cameron had stepped out on her. There was a possibility he’d hurt her and still got to keep her, anyway.

  And that made me see red.

  “Oh,” Charlie’s soft voice snapped me back to the present moment. “Hi, Reese. What are you doing down this way?”

  I blinked.

  “Reese?”

  “I was just wondering if you would be helping your mom with the fundraiser this weekend,” I lied. Well, technically it wasn’t a complete lie. I had been wondering if she would be around after I’d agreed earlier in the week to help Gloria, but it wasn’t the reason I’d stormed down the hall to her room.

  “The Valentine’s Day silent auction? I’m helping with the bidding items and I’ll be in attendance.” Her brows bent together then. “Will you be there, too?”

  I sniffed, running a hand back through my hair. I needed to get away from her. I
needed to calm the fuck down. Every second I stood there looking at her soft, innocent face and thinking about what her husband possibly did to break the smile that once existed there drove me closer to certifiable insanity.

  “I’m helping out. I’ll be at your parents’ later tonight.”

  “Oh,” she said. “Me, too. I guess I’ll see you there.”

  “Yeah. See you.”

  I turned without looking at her again, gritting my teeth against the urge to slam a hand into one of the lockers as I passed. I didn’t even know if I had my facts straight.

  Calm down, I begged myself as I made my way back to my own classroom, but it was no use. I couldn’t stop seeing red. I couldn’t stop wishing Cameron’s neck was trapped between my fists.

  Once I was back in my room, I pulled the door shut behind me, falling into my chair and slamming my Thermos on the desk. I ran both hands through my hair, forcing a long exhale as my eyes lost focus.

  For a long while I just sat there, breathing, finding the resolve to not leave school right then and find Cameron to ask him myself.

  But this wasn’t about him. Not really.

  It was about Charlie.

  And I’d see her tonight.

  At that, I leaned back in my chair, resting my hands on top of my head as my wheels turned. Before now, I’d realized I needed to stay away from her, to give her the space she desired to focus on her and Cameron. But I couldn’t do that anymore. Not when I knew she deserved better.

  Whether it was completely true or not, Cameron’s infidelity, I didn’t know. But those rumors had stemmed from somewhere, and that was enough fuel to drive my fire. I couldn’t ask him, couldn’t make him pay for what he’d done, or take away the scar it’d undoubtedly left on Charlie’s heart, but there was something I could do.

  I could be there for her. I could bring that smile back to her face, bring the joy back to her heart. There was a time when I knew every corner of her mind, every fear she housed, every dream she wished. I knew the girl under the glasses and the braids, and I knew she couldn’t be far from the woman who existed now.

  I would make Charlie happy again.

  That was a promise I’d keep.

  Charlie

  There was a loud bang from upstairs when I walked through our front door Friday afternoon.

  “Cameron?” I called out, dropping my keys in the bowl by the door before stripping out of my coat and scarf. I hung them on the rack just as another bang came, this time followed closely by a loud curse.

  “Don’t come upstairs!”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine! Just…” There was a muffled groan, and then the sound of a door shutting. Cameron appeared at the top of our stairs in the next instant, his dark hair damp and falling over his forehead a bit, bare chest slick with a sheen of sweat. “You’re home early.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, I just, please just stay down there for a second.”

  My hand was already on the railing, feet carrying me toward him while my stomach twisted into the most tangled knots of my life. I couldn’t swallow, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t listen to any of the words coming out of his mouth.

  “Please, Charlie.” He tried to grab for my arm as I passed him, but I slipped by, heading for our bedroom. The door was open, so I swung inside it, eyes ready to shoot laser beams at whoever was in there.

  But it was empty.

  “Charlie, what are you doing?”

  “Where is she?”

  Jane and Edward cooed their warm hellos to me, but I zoomed past them, flicking on the light in the bathroom and checking behind the door. I crossed the room to our closet next, and briefly glanced at Cameron’s confused expression.

  “She? What are you talking about?”

  “WHERE IS SHE, CAMERON?”

  I ripped open the door to our closet, but there was no one inside. When I whipped around to face him again, Cameron was saying something, but I couldn’t hear it — because I noticed the door to my library was closed.

  And there was a shadow inside it — a shadow where there shouldn’t have been anything but light coming from the bay window.

  I stomped past Cameron, my entire body trembling as I reached for the door knob.

  “Wait, Charlie, please just listen to me a second!”

  I shoved it open, chest heaving as I prepared my heart for the worst. I would murder her. I would murder both of them. This was it, the moment when I snapped — the moment when I went to jail for the rest of my life.

  But when the door swung open, I didn’t find a woman I recognized inside it.

  In fact, I didn’t find anything I recognized, at all.

  Everything was gone.

  My bookshelves, half of my books, the bed by the bay window. All the pictures on the walls. They’d all been removed.

  And replaced.

  Instead of the bed, there was a reading hammock. The netting was a soft yellow that reminded me of Jane’s feathers, and it was covered with a plush gray and white chevron cushion. At least a half-dozen little pillows sat in the middle of it, and there was a hand-built table that swung out from the wall to rest next to the hammock, though it could be tucked back into the wall to be out of the way, too.

  My old shelves, ones that were simple white wood, were completely gone. Instead, three new ones were built, two more still in boxes, and they were modern glass with stainless steel legs that gave off the appearance that the shelves curved up the wall and hung slightly over at the top. Some of my books had been replaced on the new shelves, the rest of them laid carefully in the corner of the room in boxes.

  There was a step ladder and Cameron’s tool box, our little portable speaker playing Angus and Julia Stone, and a large gallon of water that was half empty. The photos that had once hung on the walls were laying in the corner, and my eyes scanned the beautiful paintings leaning against them — the ones I assumed were new.

  I clapped a hand over my mouth, tears flooding my eyes. “Oh, my God.”

  There was a loud sigh behind me, but Cameron’s arms wrapped around me, anyway. His hands pulled me into him, his chin resting on my shoulder, body bending low to meet mine. “I was trying to surprise you.”

  “I’m such a dirtbag.”

  Cameron chuckled, pressing a kiss into my neck. His body was still slick, but I didn’t mind. “You are not. I was trying to finish before you got home, but it was more work putting these shelves together than I expected.”

  “You didn’t go to work today.”

  I spun in his arms, looking up at him just as one tear leaked out of my left eye. Cameron thumbed it away, bending to kiss my lips softly, his smile genuine and true. “I didn’t. It’s why I’ve been working so hard lately, and such long days. I knew I would need to take an entire day off to get this built.”

  “And you did all of this,” I said, sweeping my arm over the room. “For me?”

  Cameron’s caramel eyes softened then, his hands folding together at the small of my back. “I know it hurts to come in here now, Charlie. You haven’t read a book in here in… years. But you used to love it in here, before…”

  “You can say it,” I whispered. Part of me needed to hear him say it.

  “Before we lost the boys.” His own eyes flooded then, and that only made me cry harder. “I wanted to make it a place you loved again, a place you could go to find happiness.”

  I swallowed past the knot in my throat, and my eyes flicked to the closet — the one that hid thousands of dollars of baby gear.

  “It’s gone,” Cameron said. “Not gone gone, but put away. This room is yours again, Charlie. Truly yours. I just… I hope you like it.” He chuckled then. “When it’s all done, of course.”

  I laughed a little, too, leaning into his chest to let him hold me.

  I didn’t know how to feel in that moment.

  Happiness and thankfulness were the first two emotions I grasped. It was j
ust like Cameron to do something so thoughtful, something so selfless, just to see me smile. He never missed work, and he’d planned a day off just so he could redo my library and make it a place I would love again.

  I squeezed him harder.

  There was another part of me, perhaps the largest part, that felt relieved. I hadn’t found another woman in our bed or in our shower. It wasn’t that I expected to, not before I walked in to the scene I had, but I realized in that moment that those scars still existed, too. The bruises were still tender.

  Then, there was love and adoration. This was Cameron’s MO, it was how he always showed his love. He didn’t sit me down and tell me I was beautiful, or reminisce on times past. He used his hands to show me, he used his actions. It was so thoughtful, bringing my library back to life, so much so that I nearly collapsed in his arms at the emotions surging through me.

  But underneath that happiness, underneath that appreciation, I was angry.

  I would never tell him that, would never reveal that little part of me that flared red, and I hated that it was true. I wished I didn’t feel it, that stab of betrayal and disappointment, but it was just as real as the love and thankfulness.

  The truth was that I wished he would have asked me, first.

  I didn’t want to hide our son’s furniture and clothes away. I didn’t want to pretend like it never happened, like they never happened. And though the furniture had changed and the books sat on different shelves, it was still a room meant to be a nursery.

  It was still a reminder of what we’d lost, what we’d never spoken of again.

  I stamped that anger and sadness down with a firm foot, reminding myself that this was Cameron showing me his love. It was him coming back to me, slowly but surely. That was what mattered. I would sit right on top of that anger and sadness as I read my books in that hammock every weekend, just to show Cameron how much I appreciated the gesture — how much I appreciated him.

 

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