The Right Side of Wrong

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The Right Side of Wrong Page 22

by Prescott Lane


  We’re back at their house now for a little party. Finn’s about had his fill, though, anxious to be able to crawl around, sick of being confined in our arms. “Jon?” I ask. “Is there someplace I can put Finn down to play?”

  “Go up to Theo’s room,” he says, nodding toward the stairs.

  Carrying Finn, I walk up and open the door to the nursery. Catrine’s at the changing table with little Theo. “Oh, sorry,” I say. “Jon said I could bring Finn up here to play.”

  “It’s fine,” she says, giving me a small smile. “Finn’s gotten so big.”

  “Theo, too,” I say, smiling back. “I’d like us to get together once you get settled, get a routine.”

  “Maybe,” she says, finishing up the diaper, not making eye contact with me. She’s not the same with me. Maybe it’s hormones, or maybe she’s suspicious. I need to smooth this over.

  “Sorry I freaked out so much when you went into labor. It’s just different when it’s your friend.”

  With a tight-lipped smile on her face, she gives me a little nod. “I need to get back to the party.”

  “Catrine, are we okay?” I ask.

  She exhales. “Paige, is there anything going on?”

  “What would be going on?” I ask, my heart starting to pound.

  She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. I’m just having all these crazy thoughts.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “I’m embarrassed to even say,” she says. “I think mommy brain has struck. Poor Jon, he must think I’m crazy.”

  I wonder what she’s shared with her husband. They seem the type of couple who would talk about everything. My stomach twists. I want to be like that with Slade, but I can’t. It’s what’s best for him. Still, I wonder if Catrine said anything crazy about me? I give her a little side hug, but she still seems stiff. “I’m here if you want to talk or anything. I understand the stresses of having a newborn.”

  “If you say so,” she says, walking out of the room. I call after her, but she ignores me. Clearly, she’s got some suspicions about me. I hope they’re the wrong ones. Quickly, I pick up Finn, my head growing dizzy for a second. When I get to the staircase, I pause for a moment, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

  When it doesn’t, I sit down, making sure to hold Finn tightly as if my life and his depend on it. “Paige?”

  I hear Slade’s voice and look up, finding him rushing up the stairs toward me, noticing something’s wrong.

  “I’m fine,” I say, handing him Finn. “Just got up too fast and got a little dizzy.”

  Before I know it, Jon and Catrine are there, too. “She alright?” Jon asks.

  Catrine looks me right in the eye and asks, “Anything you need to come clean about?”

  My head starts to spin again. Slade’s eyes fly to me, and he says, “Guess we have to tell them?”

  Jon looks over at his wife then to Slade. “Tell us what?” Jon asks.

  “Paige is pregnant,” Slade says with a beaming smile.

  I look over at Catrine, and her mouth is on the floor. I’m not happy about Slade blabbering our news, especially when I asked him not to. But I’ll forgive him because it seems to have shut down Catrine’s suspicions.

  “That’s great news,” Jon says, patting Slade on the back. “I remember Catrine used to get dizzy early on. Juice usually helped.”

  “I’ll take her to the kitchen to get some juice,” Catrine says, handing the baby to her husband. Slade uses his free hand to help me up, guiding me down the stairs where Catrine takes over, leading me into the kitchen.

  She opens the refrigerator door. “Last time I was in here, your water broke,” I say.

  She pours me some juice, placing it in front of me, clearly in no mood for a trip down memory lane. “Did you do this on purpose?” she asks.

  “Do what? Almost faint?”

  “No,” she says. “Did you get pregnant on purpose to trap him?”

  That’s the last straw. I get to my feet, my head still cloudy. “I thought we were friends.”

  She draws a deep breath. “I don’t want to think these things about you,” she says. “But you have to tell me what’s going on. Because something is off with you.”

  “I don’t have to tell you a damn thing,” I say, thinking I should tell Slade what she said about me getting pregnant on purpose. That would discredit her forever in his eyes, but I can’t do it. It would destroy his relationship with Jon, threaten their business, and I don’t want to hurt Slade. I’m doing my best not to.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  SLADE

  I hold up the strip of black and white pictures. Paige is only about six weeks pregnant, but we still saw the flutter of a little heartbeat. Not much else, but the lump in my throat tells a different story. This little gray kidney bean will change my life. I don’t know that I’ve ever believed in miracles until this moment. This little blob in the ultrasound picture is going to grow up to be an adult. How can anyone not believe in miracles when you are in fact a miracle yourself?

  Glancing down at Finn in his car seat, it’s hard to believe that he started out like this, too. I wish I’d been there for him and for Paige.

  A hand slaps my shoulder, the doctor taking a seat behind his desk. He’s an older guy, looks like he’s been doing this a long time. That puts my heart at ease. I only want the best care for Paige and our child. “Paige is just doing some initial blood work and leaving a urine sample. She’ll be right in.”

  “Great,” I say.

  “I like to make sure I meet with my first-time moms. They tend to have a lot of questions,” he says.

  “This isn’t her first pregnancy,” I say, taking Finn from his car seat. “This is Finn.”

  “Right, oh, I’m sorry,” he says, looking at her chart. “She’s a relatively new patient for me. I’ve just seen her a couple of times. I didn’t deliver this little guy,” he says, shaking Finn’s hand.

  “He was a home birth,” I say.

  His brow wrinkles up, continuing to look at her chart. “Must be some mistake. Her medical history shows no prior pregnancies, no live births, no miscarriages.”

  “Must have the wrong chart,” I say.

  A nurse sticks her head in, and he gets to his feet. “Excuse me for a few moments.”

  I might be committing a felony, but as soon as he walks out, I swipe the chart from his desk. Her name is in bold letters. It’s her chart. Her first ultrasound, examination, notes on her office visits, everything looks normal until I get to her medical history form. Plain as day, in her own handwriting, where it asks about prior pregnancies, she checked none.

  My hand goes through my hair. I look down at Finn in my lap. This can’t be right. I pull out my phone, my lock screen set to a photo of Paige holding Finn. There is definitely a resemblance between them, the same nose. I still have no idea who his biological father is. Apparently, there’s a lot I don’t know.

  “What’s going on?” I ask Finn, but he just smiles up at me. Love this kid.

  This has to just be some oversight. I mean, when you go to the doctor, they give you dozens of forms to fill out, and perhaps she just overlooked it and checked the wrong box. But wouldn’t her doctor be able to tell if she’d been pregnant before when he did an examination? Wouldn’t he have asked her a bunch of questions himself, and noticed the mistake and corrected it?

  Quickly, I search online whether a doctor can tell if a woman has ever been pregnant. Leave it to Google to have the answer. Apparently, I’m not the only one who’s ever asked this question. Much to my disgust, there are actual pictures of how a doctor can tell. I’ll leave out the gory details. Let’s just say the cervix of a woman who’s given birth looks different than a woman who hasn’t.

  “Slade,” I hear Paige say softly. Quickly, I hold up the ultrasound pictures and toss the file aside. She glances at me, looking scared to death, but there is something else in her eyes—a resolve. I’ve seen this look from her before, several times, beginni
ng with the night we met. A thick silence fills the space between us, and if one of us doesn’t say something soon, I fear it will push her away from me.

  When someone’s caught in a lie, they tend to do one of two things. Either they fess up, or they fight like hell to get out of the corner they’re blocked in. I’ve seen this happen with employees countless times. From the look in her eyes, I know if I confront her now, I’m in for a fight. Better to let her think I’m still in the dark.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  SLADE

  I need some answers, and clearly, I’m not going to get any from Paige.

  “Hey,” Jon says, walking into my office with his briefcase. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to do something for me. This can go no further than you. Understand?”

  “Sure,” he says. “What is it?”

  “Paige,” I say, feeling like I’m breaking a vow to her. “I think she’s hiding something. I don’t know what, and she won’t tell me.”

  He holds his hand up, putting me out of my misery, then he takes a seat across from me, pulling an envelope out of his briefcase, Paige’s name at the top. “Ran a background check on her the morning after your dad’s party.”

  My eyes dart up. Anger boils in my chest. What the fuck? “I never asked you to do that.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he says, tossing the file down on my desk. “But I’ve always got your back, whether you want me to or not.”

  I hold the envelope, conflicted. I debated doing a background check on Paige myself but didn’t want to invade her privacy. I wanted to give her the chance to tell me herself. Things have changed. She’s left me no choice. If she gets pissed, I’ll blame Jon. “And?”

  “And nothing,” he says. “From what I can tell, she’s telling the truth. Grew up in and out of the system. Rough childhood. Her mom died a couple of months back from an overdose. Paige’s test scores are off the chart. She’s smart as hell. Dropped out of college about eight months ago, which corresponds with Finn’s birth.”

  “So you found nothing,” I say.

  “Initially,” he says. “That’s why I never said anything when you moved her into your house. But then the night of the baptism after you left, Catrine told me she thought something was off about Paige. So I did a little more digging.”

  “Your wife is your excuse for everything.”

  He shrugs, reaching back into his briefcase and pulling out another envelope. “I ran a check on Finn.”

  “He’s a baby. What did you expect to find?”

  “That’s just it,” Jon says. “I didn’t find anything. No social security number. No birth certificate. Nothing. There’s no record anywhere that he was ever born.”

  “Paige said she gave birth at home.”

  “You still have to apply for a birth certificate and a social security card,” he says.

  Our emergency room visit pops in my mind. She didn’t know Finn’s social security number. How did she sign up for health insurance through my company without giving the number? Did she leave the spot blank? Did no one ever notice that? “Maybe it’s under a different name. Hudson is Paige’s last name. Maybe Finn’s birth certificate is under his father’s last name.”

  Jon says, “I ran a check for any boy named Finn born on December first of last year in the whole state of Tennessee. There were two, and neither one of their mothers was named Paige.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t in Tennessee. I never asked her. Or maybe she just never filed the paperwork or . . .”

  He pulls out another piece of paper, this one with information on Paige’s mother—arrest record, various addresses. He points at her last arrest. The charges were dropped, but there’s another piece of information that has my attention. “Maybe,” Jon says. “Or maybe it’s something else.”

  *

  Paige darts out of bed, one hand over her mouth, the other over her stomach. The bathroom door slams behind her, and I hear the unmistakable sound of her vomiting.

  Hurrying out of bed, I call out her name, “Paige?”

  “Oh God,” she groans as I hear more come up, followed by Finn crying.

  “Get Finn!” she yells out to me.

  What a way to wake up. Not that I got much sleep last night anyway, going over and over again in my mind what Jon dug up about Paige’s mom. I’m not sure what to think, but I know I can’t lose Paige. Under no circumstance will I let that happen.

  Pushing open the door to Finn’s room, I find him sitting up in his crib, and as soon as he sees me, a big smile covers his little face. Everyone should be greeted by a smile like that.

  Picking him up, I give him some love and quickly change his diaper. When we make it back to my bedroom, Paige is emerging from the bathroom, looking like something the cat dragged in. But she smiles at me just the same.

  Her life has taught her how to do that—smile through shit.

  “Morning sickness?” I ask, encouraging her back to bed.

  “Guess so,” she says, snuggling under the covers.

  I sit down beside her, Finn on my lap, and she kisses his little hand. “Did you have a lot of morning sickness with him?”

  “Each pregnancy is different,” Paige says. “Old wives’ tale is that you throw up more with girls.”

  “A girl,” I whisper, realizing she dodged my question. “Maybe we should wait to find out. Let it be a surprise.”

  “Isn’t this pregnancy enough of a surprise?” she teases.

  “Did you know Finn was a boy?” I ask.

  Her blue eyes glance away for a second. “Not until he was born. The little stinker was a couple of weeks early.”

  “Were you ready? I mean, since it was a home birth.”

  “I don’t think you’re ever totally ready to have a baby.”

  “Was he born in Nashville?” I ask.

  “No, we moved here shortly after he was born,” she says, throwing me a look.

  “But he was born in Tennessee?”

  “Yes,” she says, sitting up slightly. “What’s with all the questions?”

  “Am I asking a lot of questions?” I ask with a grin. Her head tilts to the side like she’s annoyed, and I’m sure she is. She just threw up, and I’m hounding her for information. “I have one more question.”

  “Slade.”

  “And I need you to give me the right answer,” I say. Her mouth starts to open, no doubt ready to give me some sassy response. “I’m taking Finn to the ranch. Meet us out there when you’re ready to answer.”

  “Wait! What’s the question?” she asks.

  Holding Finn, I head for the door. “The ranch.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  PAIGE

  He knows. No, he can’t know.

  He wants the truth. That’s his question.

  Truth?

  My mind is telling me to run. I’ve done that before, and I can do it again. I hate to run, to uproot Finn from everything he’s known for the past few months. In that respect, it was easier when he was an infant. Now it seems we are leaving so much more behind. I can’t think about it, though. This isn’t about me. This is about Finn. It’s always been about Finn and protecting him.

  My hand goes over my belly. Slade’s baby. I can’t do that to Slade. I won’t.

  Tears stream down my face. I’m trapped, and there’s only one way out.

  There’s only been one way out this whole time.

  I start to drive. It wasn’t that long ago that Jon was driving me out to the ranch for the first time. Here I am again, watching the buildings of Nashville turn into the rolling hills of the countryside, the noise of the city fading away to the quiet that used to keep me up at night.

  For a few short months, I had it—everything—the fairy tale. The poor girl who falls in love with the rich prince. That was me.

  I knew it couldn’t last, but I hoped it would be longer than this. That’s what really hurts. I started to hope, to believe.

  To rely on his love. He promised I could.


  I bought into it all when I knew better.

  I’m a felon, a criminal. It doesn’t matter why I did it. I still did it.

  Slade doesn’t deserve to feel the kind of pain that’s coming. He simply fell in love with the wrong woman. That’s his only crime. Loving me.

  I know he suspects something, but I don’t know how much he really knows. If he knew everything, he could very well have the police waiting for me. I don’t want him to have to make that decision. I turn down the road that leads to the ranch. On my first trip out here, I remember searching for a sign, the name of the ranch. I never spotted one.

  Until today.

  I pass under a wood and metal archway, and engraved at the top in simple lettering, it reads:

  Paige’s Home

  I cover my mouth to try to contain my cry. The house comes into view. I know the inside is a mess, broken.

  I know that feeling. I am that house.

  Only the house can be repaired. What I’ve done can’t be.

  Getting out of the car, I remember the story Jon told me about being on that bridge. I’m on the ledge, and I’ve got to get off or jump. I can’t keep walking the line.

  When I turn the knob on the front door, it still feels like home, just like his sign reads. Slade has Finn on his hip, both of them waiting for me. Both of them smile at me. My heart cracks. I don’t deserve for Slade to look at me like that, to love me.

  He holds Finn out, letting me know he’s mine to take. I hold my arms out to Finn, whose chunky arms and legs are flailing around, clearly happy to see me. Holding Slade’s gaze, I take Finn in my arms and whisper my promise. “I’ll do whatever I have to.”

  That includes walking away from the man I love.

  I’ve lied to him enough. It’s time I tell him the truth.

  “I know you have questions,” I say.

  “Just one,” he says, and I brace myself to hear the question I’ve been dreading for almost eight months.

  He looks at me with those stunning blue eyes of his, then drops to one knee. “Marry me?” All the air in my chest comes out in a swift breath, and my knees wobble. “You shouldn’t be so shocked. I’ve asked you before.”

 

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