Calculated Risk

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Calculated Risk Page 14

by Rachael Duncan


  He’s different, and I actually feel safe when I’m with him. Seeing him defend me against my parents only solidified that. He would never lie or cheat on me. I know that in my heart, which is why I’ve given it to him.

  There’s a knock on the door, pulling me out of my thoughts. We’re not expecting any company, so I have no idea who it could be. When I open it, a woman stands before me. Her eyes bug out when she sees me in front of her, looking shocked as hell. My brow furrows at her odd reaction.

  “Who are you?” she asks as she looks me up and down with a snarl on her face.

  “I live here. Can I help you?”

  “I just need to talk to Marcus. Is he here?” She attempts to look over my shoulder, but I close the door some behind me to block her view.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?” I ask her.

  “I didn’t. Now is he here or not?”

  My arms cross over my chest and my eyebrow arches. “He’s not home, but I’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by. Is there a message I should leave for him?”

  She lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Just tell him Stacy dropped by. He’ll know who you’re talking about.” Her grin is knowing, like she has a secret she wants to tell me.

  Both of us turn our attention to the driveway as Marcus pulls up. “Perfect timing,” she says to me with a smug expression.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Marcus asks her when he gets close. I watch their exchange closely, trying to figure out what the hell is going on and why this woman is on our porch.

  “I’m pregnant,” she announces.

  He shrugs while shaking his head. “Okay? Why would I care?”

  “Because it’s yours.”

  I discreetly grab the doorframe to steady myself.

  God, please no.

  It’s yours.

  I feel dizzy and I think I could throw up right now.

  It’s yours.

  This can’t be happening.

  It’s yours.

  Tell me I haven’t fallen for someone only to be betrayed again.

  She’s lying. She has to be lying. There’s no way this is possible.

  A combination of rage and disgust consumes his features as he moves closer to my side. It’s as if he can sense my internal withdrawal. “You’re a goddamn liar. I haven’t had anything to do with you since we broke up and you know it.”

  She looks up at him through her eyelashes, but it takes on a more sinister feel. “Oh, really? I don’t remember it that way about six months ago.”

  Six months?

  We’ve been together for a little over seven. I swallow the bile that rises up my throat, willing myself not to puke in front of them.

  Marcus finally turns his attention to me, and his entire posture deflates as soon as he sees my expression. My eyes have started to well up with tears, and I bite my lip to keep it from quivering. He grabs my shoulders gently. “Lydia, I swear to you she’s lying about everything. I haven’t seen her in two years.”

  “Does he ever pull extra shifts?” she asks, using her fingers for quotation marks. “That’s when he’s with me.” It’s not often, but he’ll cover for a buddy of his every now and then. Or at least I thought he was. Now, I’m not so sure.

  Marcus says something to her, anger clear in his tone, but I tune it out. I glance at her, then her stomach, then back at him again. My insides are twisted up so tight it becomes painful. She could be carrying his child, a little piece of him that she’ll have for the rest of their lives. I’d have to share a part of him I thought was reserved for only us after we got married. I want to believe him, I really do, but my instincts are telling me to get the hell out of here.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I can’t do this right now.” I turn around to go back in the house, but Marcus grabs hold of my hand.

  “Lydia, please listen to me,” he pleads. Without looking back, I yank my hand from his grip and continue inside. Running toward the bedroom, I start to hyperventilate as soon as I get my suitcase and throw whatever I can grab into it.

  Life is cruel. Right when you think you’ve got a handle on her, she’s there to kick you back down and remind you who’s boss.

  I force my mind to shut off and focus on one task and one task only.

  Get the hell out of here.

  Marcus

  “LYDIA!” I SHOUT through the house as I run frantically up the stairs to the bedroom. “Lydia!” When I see her, my heart drops.

  She’s packing.

  My heart falls to the pit of my stomach as I approach her. “Lydia?” I try to touch her but she shrugs me off.

  “Just stop. I’ve heard enough for one day,” she says, her voice tight from her tears. Knowing I’ve caused her to cry guts me.

  “You have to listen to me. None of what she said is true.” She continues to shake her head while I stare at her back. “Look at me!” She jumps slightly with my outburst, but she’s not going to walk out of here without hearing me out first.

  Slowly, she turns around and the look on her face breaks me. Her eyes are red-rimmed with tears streaming down her face. She’s hollow; it’s in the vacant expression she gives me when she finally glances up. I swore I’d never be the reason for her tears and here I am breaking that promise. Whether it’s indirectly or not doesn’t matter. What does is she’s feeling pain and I’m the root of it.

  “I swear on everything I am that there is nothing going on with Stacy and me.” I will her to believe me. She has to.

  “You do take extra shifts sometimes. How would she know that if it weren’t true?”

  “If you’ll sit down, I’ll explain everything.” She’s reluctant but finally has a seat on the edge of the bed. I pace back and forth, not knowing where to start first. “I met Stacy right when I started college. We hit it off at first, but that changed over time. She started putting pressure on me once we were together for a year to take the next step, but I wasn’t ready. I think my heart knew she wasn’t the one.”

  I stare at her for a second, hoping she catches on to what I’m saying. I was with Lydia for six months and was already proposing. I knew she was it for me the moment I met her.

  I let out a sigh. “You know my family is well off.” She nods, not sure where I’m going with this. “Well, I’ve got a trust fund that would make Seth’s record-breaking contract look like pennies.” Her eyes widen as I’m sure that surprises her. I’m not even sure how much money is in there now. Last time I checked was several years ago and it was well in the nine figure range.

  “To me, that money’s not there. The only time I’ve used it is to buy my house and hire you to redecorate. Otherwise, I live modestly off what I make as a police officer and forget that account even exists.”

  I pause and she nods, letting me know she’s following me. “Stacy, however, never forgot that money was there. It took me a while to see it, but she was only using me as her cash cow. I overheard her talking to a friend saying all she needed to do was convince me to marry her. Even if it didn’t work out, she’d be set for life. I ended things with her immediately.”

  She’s quiet and I can see the wheels spinning. God, I hope I’m getting through to her. “I still don’t understand why she would do this if it’s all a lie.” Doubt laces her words, and it fucking kills me. We’ve come so far only to see it fall apart in a matter of minutes.

  I shake my head. “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.” I grab her hand and stare into her eyes. “You know me, Lydia. Forget what your mind is telling you, listen to your heart. I know you’ve been hurt in the past, but I’ve never given you a reason to doubt me—to doubt us. The only time I’ve ever lied to you was when I was trying to buy you an engagement ring. You have my heart completely. You own me. There’s no one else other than you. Please, you have to believe that.”

  She’s quiet for the longest time. My stomach is in knots as I wait to hear the next words that come out of her mouth. “None of this makes sense. Why would a woman do
this when a simple test would prove the validity of her claim?”

  “Because of this,” I say, gesturing between the two of us. “She’s created doubt in your mind. Now you’ll never know for sure if I was lying to you or not. She’s putting cracks in our foundation, waiting for the house we’ve built to come tumbling down. That’s her goal and it’s working because your distrust in me is written all over that gorgeous face of yours.” She’s silent again, which unnerves me.

  She looks down at her hands that are folded in her lap. Her lip begins to quiver and I know she’s fighting to hold back more tears. “I’ll get a paternity test done when the baby is born to prove to you I’m not lying.”

  “All the paternity test will prove is that you didn’t father the child. It won’t prove if you were unfaithful or not.”

  She might as well have dick punched me. “You’re right. I was hoping you’d know that on your own.”

  Her eyes flash back up to mine, and I lay all my cards out in front of her. There’s no holding back as I bare my soul for her to see. To see that I’m being truthful.

  “You don’t know how hard this is for me,” she says as her voice quivers. “It’s like déjà vu all over again.”

  “You really think that little of me? You think I would throw away the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me?” My desperation has turned to anger. She’s slipping away from me like sand through my fingers. I’m frantic to hold on to her, but she falls through piece by piece.

  She turns around and zips up her suitcase. The sound of it adding finality to this discussion. When she faces me again, she says, “I don’t know what to think. All I know is I need some time to figure this all out. I’m sorry.” Rolling her suitcase past me, she pauses. “Goodbye, Marcus.”

  And she’s gone.

  When I hear the front door shut, I drop to my knees. A roar erupts from my chest as my hands go to my hair and fist it. Standing back up on unstable legs, I run downstairs and grab my phone. Thankful I never delete numbers from my contacts, I dial the one person responsible for the hell I’m living right now.

  “Hello?” she answers sweetly. The act has my blood boiling.

  “What the fuck, Stacy?” I yell.

  “It’s good to hear from you, Marcus.”

  “Cut the shit. What do you want?”

  “I thought that was obvious. I want our family back together. Me, you, and our baby.”

  “Are you fucking crazy? You know as well as I do that kid isn’t mine.” I pace the length of the kitchen, feeling like a caged lion ready to attack.

  “Those are just minor details. The point is we belong together.”

  She’s bat shit crazy and fucking delusional. “My lawyers are going to be on this stat, you fucking bitch. And when the paternity test shows you’re a lying sack of shit, I’m going to have them nail your ass to the wall for this.”

  “It won’t matter because she’ll be long gone by then anyway. I did a little research on the trash you keep there.” My fists clench at my sides. “The sweet, innocent girlfriend of a baseball star. Her ex had a lot to say about her in this month’s issue of Sports Unlimited. He even dubbed her The One Who Got Away. She’ll never trust you again, so you might as well cut your losses. I’ll be here waiting for you when you do.” I squeeze the phone so hard I think it might crack.

  “Fuck you.” I hang up the phone and slam it down on the counter. Then I pick it up and slam it again. In a matter of minutes, I’ve lost my entire world. She walked out of that door without a backward glance all because my ex decides to play some sick fucking head game.

  I have a seat on the couch to try to calm down so I can think. The chair in the corner catches my attention. It sits there mocking me, reminding me of one of the first times Lydia was here. Before, it was just a house, a place to live. But envisioning her in it made it a home. Now it’s a symbol of what I used to have.

  Walking toward the corner, I bend down and grab the bottom of it. “Ahhh!” I shout as I flip it over and kick it repeatedly. I wail on this chair until my entire body is spent and I’m out of breath.

  I retrieve my phone off the counter and make a call. “Dad, I need your help.”

  Lydia

  HAVE YOU EVER seen a monkey open a coconut? It’s a violent, harsh process where he shreds the outer shell piece by piece using its teeth. Each layer removed makes the coconut more vulnerable and easier to crack. When enough of the outside has been discarded, the monkey will smash the coconut against the hard ground over and over again until it finally cracks. My heart is the coconut. I feel like Marcus has taken chunks out of it before crushing it against the ground until there’s nothing left but broken fragments.

  It’s been three days since I’ve talked to Marcus, despite his efforts. He kept calling to the point where I had to shut my phone off. In the meantime, I’ve been crashing at Charlotte’s, lying in my pajamas, and wallowing in self-pity.

  I cry every day, and have had to call out of work. I’m so torn and I don’t know what to do. If I thought what Seth did to me hurt, it’s nothing in comparison to this. I thought Marcus was my soulmate, and the reason for the misery of my past was to make way for the happiness of my future. A future with Marcus. I’m not sure that’s the case anymore.

  “How you doing?” Charlotte asks.

  “I’m okay,” I tell her. It’s a lie. I’m awful, but what else is there to say? Nothing has changed and it’s the same thing every day. “Are you sure I’m not overstaying my welcome?”

  “It’s fine, I promise,” she interrupts.

  “Are you sure Nate doesn’t mind? Spartacus has been a real asshole too,” I say, referring to my cat that has knocked everything made of glass over and ate her plants. In my haste to get away from Marcus as quickly as possible, I wasn’t able to grab my cat and all of his things. Luckily, Charlotte was nice enough to go get him for me. He’s been a horrible house guest ever since.

  She rolls her eyes. “How many times have you seen Nate since you’ve been here?” I give it some thought and only remember seeing him a few times. “Exactly,” she says. “Really, you’re okay. Besides, I like that asshole cat of yours,” she says with a wink.

  We’re both quiet for a moment and I contemplate turning on the TV for some background noise. “Have you talked to him?” Her tone is gentle and quiet as if speaking too loud will cause me to crack in two.

  “No,” I answer with a shake of my head.

  “Isn’t there a part of you that thinks he might be telling the truth?”

  I let out a sigh. “Yes, and it tortures me.” Tears start to fill my eyes, but I’m able to push them back.

  “You’re torturing yourself for no reason. You need to talk to him,” she urges. “You can’t keep running. You’re going to have to face your fears head-on or you’re going to end up a bitter old lady with fifteen asshole cats.”

  Her last comment makes my lip twitch with a hint of a smile. She’s right. I know she is. But it’s scary as hell to put yourself out there with something like this hanging over our heads.

  “Go home.”

  Home.

  The first image to appear when that word crosses my mind is Marcus. Closing my eyes, I focus on what I know, not what I think.

  He makes me laugh. My happiness has always been his priority, and he’s never hurt me. He’s caring and compassionate. His heart is good and genuine.

  He loves me.

  And I love him.

  Opening my eyes with new clarity, I say, “I’ve got to go.” A slow smile spreads across her face as I spring up and run to get my things.

  With Spartacus in my arms, I rush through the front door eager to see Marcus and tell him I’m sorry.

  “Marcus?” I say into the quiet space. Walking into the living room, I’m shocked. The chair is turned up on its end, papers are strewn everywhere, and there’s a broken glass on the kitchen counter. The place is a disaster.

  “Marcus, are you here?” I set Spartacus down and go in
search of him. His car was out front, so he has to be around here somewhere.

  Running upstairs, the music gets louder as I get closer to the bedroom. My steps falter as memories resurface. I swallow hard, forcing myself to continue as a lead ball forms in my stomach. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as I round the corner. Lying on the bed is Marcus, facedown, passed out.

  Relief washes over me as does the realization that I’m an idiot. I have to come to terms with the fact that Marcus is not Seth. He’ll never be Seth. I can’t let the sins of one man transfer to another. Marcus is way too kind and generous and loving to ever be that type of person. I walk over to his iPod dock and turn it off. The silence is deafening until a light snore cuts through the air.

  I sit down carefully on the edge of the bed as I watch him sleep. Where his features are normally relaxed, his face is filled with tension. The crease in his brows giving away his torment.

  My hand rubs his back. “Marcus,” I say gently. “Wake up.” After a few more times, he finally rouses from his sleep.

  He blinks several times, as if he’s still dreaming. “Lydia?” His voice is rough with sleep, but there’s instant concern in his eyes.

  “Hey.” I give him a timid smile, not sure how he’ll react to me being here after walking out on him. He sits up quickly, the blanket falling to reveal his toned chest and abs. He opens his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it. “I’m sorry.” His expression softens. “I’ve done a lot of thinking the last few days, and I’m sorry. I was quick to judge and jump to conclusions based on my own fears, and that wasn’t fair to you.”

  He shakes his head and looks down before returning his gaze back to me. “I get it. Trust me, I get it. This hits close to home for you, so I understand your reaction and need to get away.”

  “I’m going to be honest; I’m still struggling with all of it. There are some things that you never get over completely, and a small part of me still has doubts. I’m fighting against all of my instincts and trusting you not to destroy me. I can’t promise I won’t have my moments, but I want to be here for you and get through this together.”

 

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