My Husband's Secret

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My Husband's Secret Page 6

by Kiersten Modglin


  “I want the baby,” he said, reaching for my arms. I didn’t stop him as his thumbs caressed my skin. I was nearly crying at the sentence. “I want all of it—you, our family. I want to be with you, Alaina. You know that. You shouldn’t have to question it, and I’m sorry I made you. I gave you a ring—” He lifted my hand, looking for it, then glanced at me.

  “I don’t wear it when I paint.” My expression was empty, hoping he’d believe that was the only reason. I hadn’t worn it since he left, though it had taunted me from its hiding place in my drawer.

  He pressed his lips to the place where it should go. “I gave you a ring because I wanted to be with you. I wouldn’t have done it otherwise. And…I do want us to live together, but I want to do it right. I want to buy you a nice house, not coop you and the baby up in my tiny apartment or your tiny apartment. I wanted it to be a surprise, but that’s what I’m working on. Getting us a new place…together. I just couldn’t keep it a secret any longer.”

  I smiled, though it was small and forced. I couldn’t be sure he was telling the truth, couldn’t be sure he wasn’t trying to charm me as usual. It was so easy for him to charm everyone, it could be hard to tell. He watched me carefully, his eyes darting back and forth between mine.

  “Well, thank you, I guess,” I said finally. “Though I’d love to be part of the process.”

  He nodded. “Then part of the process you shall be.” He reached for my waist, and I didn't stop him, not as his fingers snaked across my hips, tickling my back until they came to meet in the center. His lips were just inches from mine. “So what do you say? Go away with me?”

  “To Rock Island?”

  He rubbed his nose against mine. “It’s beautiful there. Like you.”

  I felt my face flush, to my own detriment, and I knew he had me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. “Okay.”

  An hour later, we were in the car on the way to the getaway he had planned. The car was loaded up with my painting supplies and a bag of clothes and toiletries. Lucas seemed cool and collected, riding with the top down, his hand in mine on the center console. We whipped around a curve and he grinned, always driving too fast for my taste.

  “Can’t you just imagine the two of us? Traveling the world? No worries, no pressure, no stress?”

  I tensed instantly at his words. “The two of us?”

  He darted his gaze my way, his face falling. “The three of us, of course, but for now, two is nice, isn’t it?”

  I kept my lips pressed together because I was not sure if it was a true slip or if he’d meant to leave the baby out of the equation. Either way, I wasn’t sure which was worse, forgetting your child or willfully choosing to ignore their existence.

  I pulled my hand from his and slid it across my belly, and he moved his hand to the steering wheel. Just like that, the air had shifted. Things were different between us. The baby had done that. Lucas had done that.

  Problem was, I didn’t know if things would ever be the same.

  I didn’t know if I wanted them to be.

  When we arrived at the cabin, we’d ridden most of the way in silence. He seemed to be either blissfully unaware of the mood shift or perhaps hoping that I’d forgotten it happened.

  Before I unloaded my bag, I grabbed the canvas and paint supplies and headed to the edge of the cliff behind the cabin he’d rented. It was beautiful there; he was right. The sun was setting just over the horizon, splashing the sky with a beautiful display of oranges, pinks, and reds. It would look breathtaking in paint, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to capture this feeling forever. If it didn’t sell, whenever I looked at it, I would remember this moment. The thickness of my strokes, the heavy paint I’d apply would always be indicative of the anger swelling in my chest right then.

  Yet still, I painted. I propped up the easel and set the canvas on it, pulling out my oil paints and my apron. Lucas didn’t follow me, and I realized he must not have been as oblivious as I thought. He knew my paints calmed me down, and he knew I needed the space.

  I splashed the first bit of paint on the canvas, moving my brush to-and-fro to create the place where the yellow of the sky met the green of the earth.

  I was lost in my painting, my worries seeming to fade away when I felt hands go around my waist, sliding around to cup my belly. He surrounded me with his body, his face resting near my ear. “Just wait until the little guy is big enough to bring out here and go fishing with his old man.”

  I pressed my lips together, rejecting the smile that tried to grow on my lips. “Or little girl.”

  “Or little girl,” he conceded, stepping back and attempting to spin me around. I obliged, though I was right in the middle of a critical stroke in my work. If it dried for too long, it wouldn’t work as I’d planned.

  “I’m sorry, Lainie. Honestly. I’m a screw-up, okay? I’m really trying here, but…I’m going to mess up occasionally. It’s not because I don’t care, but it’s truly just that I never had someone show me the right way to be a dad. Hell, I didn’t even have someone to show me the wrong way.”

  “It’s no excuse, Lucas. You can’t tell me you’ve never seen a good dad in your life. I know you didn’t have one, but that’s not going to be your get-out-of-jail-free card every time you do the wrong thing here. I won’t allow you to use that and hurt me or hurt our child.” I was shaking with adrenaline. It was what had been swimming in my head for so long. “You have to decide if you want to do this. If you’re all in. Because if you’re not, I get it. I won’t force you. I won’t ask anything of you. But you have to decide now because I can’t be on this roller coaster any longer.”

  He swept me in his arms, cradling me in a hug, and I hated the tears that welled in my eyes. “I’ve already decided, I told you that. I love you. I want to be with you. I want to raise our baby. You’re just going to have to whip me into shape.” He laughed, his breath hot on my ear.

  “I can do that,” I agreed, pulling away from him, but not too far.

  He stared at me, his dark eyes meeting mine then traveling to my lips. He lowered his mouth to mine cautiously, his lips parting in what seemed like slow motion. I closed my eyes, wrapping one arm around his neck and pulling him to me. My body filled with warmth, with love, and with hope.

  I wanted this to be right. I wanted to feel like he was telling the truth.

  Somehow, despite it all, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t. That, once again, I was being lied to. That I’d just strapped myself in for the latest ride on the roller coaster that was my life with Lucas. Why did I keep doing this to myself? Why did I let his dimples and dark eyes suck me in every time? I’d lost myself in him, and as much as that terrified me, I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Naomi

  When Lucas returned from his trip Thursday evening, I was at the door, already dressed and ready to go. I was sure he’d forgotten our plans the moment he saw me. The smile fell from his face and he raised his sunglasses from his eyes.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, stopping in his tracks.

  I swallowed. It was the first we’d spoken in person since our fight, and I wasn’t sure where we stood. What I did know was that we didn’t have time to worry about it.

  “You’ve forgotten,” I said, forcing out a breath. “We’re supposed to be meeting my parents for dinner.”

  “Shoot,” he said, glancing at his watch. “No, I hadn’t forgotten. Not entirely. Give me just a few minutes to clean up, and I’ll be ready.”

  “We have twenty-six at most, or we’ll be late,” I reminded him.

  “That’s sixteen more than I need,” he promised, giving me a lopsided grin and hurrying past me, pressing a hand to my forearm as he did.

  I paced the living room, smiling at Becca as she entered the room. “Are you ready to go see Grandma and Grandpa, sweetheart?” I looked her over, checking for crumbs or stains and dusting her off to be sure I wasn’t missing any. I wouldn’t dream of bri
nging her to my parents in any state other than perfect.

  I heard the water shut off upstairs and, within minutes, Lucas was rushing down the stairs, dressed in his best jeans and a blue button-down shirt, his hair slicked back with gel.

  “Ready?” He clapped his hands together, looking us over then scooping Becca from my arms and kissing her cheek before kissing mine. “Wow, my girls are beautiful.” He smelled of spearmint mouthwash and bergamot cologne.

  “Thank you, and thank you for hurrying.”

  “I’m sorry I was late. Traffic was a little worse than I expected.”

  “And you forgot?”

  His lips seemed to be teetering between a grin and a frown. “And I forgot.” His grip tightened on my hip as I grabbed my purse, Becca’s bag, and the keys.

  “How was your trip?” I asked as I slid the key into the lock, and he stood beside me, waiting.

  “Boring as usual. Just another conference. How did things go here?” He bounced Becca in his arms. “Did you keep your mama in line?”

  “Of course I did!”

  She squealed with joy, and I smiled, shaking my head. “Everything was fine here.”

  I felt my phone buzz in my pocket as a text came through, and though I knew who it was, I didn’t dare check it. Not in front of Lucas. I couldn’t. Last night was a moment of weakness. I shouldn’t have texted him. Shouldn’t have invited him over again. I’d been so strong since the first time.

  Last night was a mistake.

  Lucas could never know.

  We walked toward the car, and he buckled Becca in before holding out his hand for the keys. I tossed them over and climbed into my seat, waiting for him to drive.

  I should’ve been worried, should’ve been nervous he’d find out what I’d done. Twice. But I couldn’t be. Not right then. I could only focus on one crisis at a time and, currently, that crisis was my parents.

  “Oh, Naomi, you look marvelous, darling,” Mom said, wrapping me in a hug with a stiff kiss on the cheek as we met at the door. She was dressed all in white, a loose top and capris to match her white heels and cool, blonde hair.

  “So do you, Mom,” I told her, stepping aside so she could reach for Becca.

  “Hello, sweetheart.” She took her from Lucas’ arms and kissed her cheek, squeezing her tight and placing her down. Then, she went in for Lucas.

  “And who’s this handsome man?” She lit up, hugging him longer than either Becca or me. “I swear, you just get better looking every time I see you.” She pulled away, one hand still around his neck. “Naomi still taking good care of you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, looking at me helplessly as his neck flamed scarlet. “Very good care of me.”

  She stepped back, releasing him. “Excellent. I’m so glad you all could make it. Our schedules do make it so hard sometimes. Your father’s on the veranda, Nae.”

  We walked through the vast, airy entranceway, through the state-of-the-art kitchen, and out the back door into the oasis they called a backyard.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said as he stood up, laying his book on the table in front of him.

  “Hello, sweetheart. Colette, you didn’t tell me the kids had arrived.” He hugged me, rubbing my back gently. “You look beautiful.” He held out a hand for my husband to shake. “Are you keeping her out of trouble, Luke?”

  Lucas nodded, accepting his handshake. “Doing my best, Walt. How was Italy?”

  “Just beautiful,” my mom answered. “It really is the best time of year to go right now. After most of the tourists have left and you can truly just settle in with the locals.”

  Dad nodded along dutifully. “She’s right. You two will have to come with us next year. Oh, or, we’re planning to go to Bora Bora next week. You should come then. They should come then, right, sweetheart?”

  Mom gave a stiff grin. “Of course they should. They’re always welcome. What do you think, kids?”

  “If only I could get the time off work,” Lucas said, rubbing the back of his neck. “One of our best surgeons just retired, so things are slammed right now.”

  My dad’s face fell into a frown, though I knew he was expecting this answer. It was always the answer. When I was six, my father sold an award-winning script to a studio that hit it big. Since then, he had dabbled here and there in producing and writing, but they’d been traveling on his royalties all my life. Usually, I was left behind with a nanny, which seemed to be the way they enjoyed it. I could count the number of times, on one hand, I’d been able to go along. Now that I was with Lucas, and they knew our schedule wouldn’t allow it, the invitations had begun to come more often.

  “Well, another time then,” he said with a sigh. “Now, how about some drinks? We brought some amazing wine back that you’ll just have to try. Of course, we couldn’t bring back all we would’ve liked to.”

  “Right, yeah. That sounds great,” Lucas said, scooping Becca up as she began to run circles around the sharp edges of their glass coffee table. “Easy there.”

  “I’d love a glass, Dad,” I said. “Please.”

  “Oh, you’re in for a treat.” He clapped his hands together and hurried back into the house, seeming more excited than he had in a long time. We followed close behind, and I kept an eye on Lucas who was struggling against Becca’s attempts to get back on the floor.

  “Do you want to go out and play in the yard?” he asked, but she shook her head.

  “No, I want to stay with you.”

  “That’s fine, sweetheart, but you know you aren’t supposed to run inside the house, right? You’ll fall and get hurt.”

  “I won’t fall!”

  I reached for her. “Becca, mind your father. We don’t want you getting hurt.”

  She crossed her arms to pout, but was distracted by my parent’s cat as it darted across the floor. Lucas set her down, letting her follow the cat and smiling at my mom who watched the interaction closely.

  “Be careful, Bec,” I warned. “No running.”

  She slowed her gait instantly. In the kitchen, Dad poured four glasses of wine and passed them out. “So, tell us, Luke, what have you been up to lately? Any interesting surgeries?”

  Lucas seemed shy, though I knew it was a put-on. There was nothing he loved more than bragging about his latest surgery. “It’s been a slow few weeks. We had a tumor that was growing teeth a few months ago, did I tell you—”

  “Yeah,” Dad interrupted, looking positively delighted, “you told me about that one. Disgusting. I tell you, I don’t know how you do it, son. One look at blood, and I’m toast. Ask Colette.” He pointed at my mom, who nodded, appearing unamused.

  “It’s true.”

  Lucas scratched the back of his neck. “It fascinates me, the way it all works, how resilient the body is.”

  “I’m just amazed at how resilient you two are,” Mom cooed. “I tell you, I never thought anyone would get Naomi to settle down, and I was just telling Walter the other night I actually believe you two are going to see it through.” She patted Lucas’ chest. “I had my doubts at first, but you both seem so happy.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I said bitterly, taking a sip of my wine to keep myself from saying much more.

  “Oh, you know what I mean, darling. You were never the type who wanted to settle down. Always roaming and wandering.”

  “Getting life experience, mhm,” I said, teasing her, though she didn’t hear the sarcasm.

  “You can get life experience with someone by your side, can’t you Luke? It wasn’t practical for a woman Naomi’s age to be so…free.”

  I rolled my eyes, looking away, and Lucas seemed to sense the tension. “Well, lucky for me, I convinced her to settle down, Colette. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

  I looked over at him, surprised by his words. It had been so long since I’d heard anything remotely close to that, especially in the middle of a fight that had only fallen to a simmer, not completely lost its heat.

  Did he mean it?

&
nbsp; He met my eye again, his jaw tight, and he nodded slightly, just enough for me to catch it. My lips upturned. It was a show for my parents. We were a united front with them, and until we left, the fight had been forgotten. Here, nothing else mattered.

  My mother heaved a sigh, and when I followed the sound with my gaze, I realized she was watching our interaction carefully. “Look at them, Walt,” she said, hands clutched together in front of her chest. “Just like no one else is in the room.”

  I smiled sadly but looked away. Truth was, Lucas and I both knew we were only like this because others were in the room.

  When we were alone, it was never so good.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Clara

  I scrolled through the patient’s file on my way down the hall, concerned about his liver enzymes, though everything else appeared to be normal. When I reached the nurses’ station, I handed off the iPad to one of the nurses behind the desk. “Can you run a complete panel for the patient in two twelve? Page me as soon as they’re in.”

  “Of course.” She nodded, looking over the chart as I turned away.

  “Excuse me?” I glanced to my left, where a young woman with olive skin and dark, shoulder-length hair was staring at me. “Are you a doctor?”

  “I am.” I looked her over quickly, though she appeared fine. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s my sister. She’s…she’s in pain.” She glanced behind her, down the hall.

  “Take me to her,” I said, though she was on the move before I had to give the go-ahead. We rushed down the hallway, stopping at the first door on our left, and she brought me in.

  The girl in the bed was nearly identical to the one who’d come to find me, though she looked to be a few years younger. Her hands were pressed into the bed at her sides, a grimace on her face. I moved toward her bed, lifting the iPad from her monitor. “Hi, I’m Doctor DeVoss. You’re…Siobhan?”

 

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