My Husband's Secret

by Kiersten Modglin

  “Why didn’t anyone help you? The school or…or friends…surely someone knew what was happening.”

  He pressed his lips together, the muscles in his shoulders tense. “Everyone knew. The school. Our bus drivers. The owners of the shops we’d try to steal from. No one cared enough to get involved. People don’t really do that… There was one neighbor once. I think he took pity on us. He used to let Lucas and me come over to his garden and pick any vegetables we wanted. We’d spend…God, we’d spend hours over there, picking apples off his trees, tomatoes and cucumbers straight off the vine. It was the most food we’d ever been allowed to eat at once. I’m convinced he’s the one who called social services on Mom, but he’d never admit it.” He laughed dryly under his breath. “He probably saved our lives.”

  “So you went into foster care? Lucas has told me about that part…a little bit, anyway. How old were you?” I asked.

  He ran a hand over his mouth. “Too old for it to have mattered in the long run. I was sixteen at the time. Lucas was twelve. No one wants teenagers. We bounced around from house to house for the next two years until I aged out and was able to take custody of him.”

  I could see the haunted look in his eyes, and I wondered if I was wearing something similar. “You saved his life, Brent. I can’t understand why you hate each other so much.”

  “I got him out because I felt like I had to. It wasn’t his fault that we grew up like we did. But that was where my obligation ended. He chose to be the person he is, to live the life he does. He could’ve had it all, Naomi. He got a scholarship for his first two years of college because he’s always had a good pitching arm, but he lost that because of his grades, took out loans for the rest of it, and…well, you know the rest.” He sighed. “I’m not proud of who he’s become. But whatever good he has done, whatever good he has in him, Martina had nothing to do with it. She doesn’t deserve the acknowledgment of even still being alive. I had no idea if she was, truth be told. I don’t know why Lucas is still in contact with her, or why he would have anything to do with her. He’s old enough to remember all she put us through.” He raised his eyes to glance at me, his expression haunted. “If she’s around, Naomi, it can’t be a good thing. She only brings trouble.”

  I stared at him in horror, a mixture of grief and disgust filling my stomach. “I can’t even—”

  “You don’t have to say anything. It’s done. I’ve moved on…and I thought Lucas had, too.”

  I put a hand on his arm, taking a half-step closer. “I don’t have to say anything, I know, but I want to. I’m sorry you went through what you did. No one deserves a childhood like that.”

  He looked uncomfortable but didn’t shy away from my touch. Instead, he kept his eyes locked with mine, staring in silence.

  “I can’t understand why he would keep this from me,” I said eventually, breaking the tension and stepping back.

  He blinked, coming out of a trance, and chewed his thumbnail. “I can’t either, but I don’t put anything past my brother anymore.”

  “What should I do?”

  “What do you want to do?” he pressed, pushing himself away from the counter so he was standing straight in front of me.

  “If he knew about this, maybe even if he didn’t, I think I want to leave him,” I admitted, a truth I’d kept quiet, even from myself, for so long. “The way he’s been lately…the things he’s said. It isn’t what I want anymore. But I’m scared.”

  “Scared of him?”

  “Scared of losing Becca. We had a fight, and he threatened to take her from me.”

  “He’s out of his mind,” he scoffed. “No judge worth his salt would—”

  “Take a child from a mother who suffers from chronic depression?”

  He swallowed, obviously unaware of my diagnosis. Lucas hadn’t told him. His eyes danced between mine. “I know I shouldn’t worry about it. It’s common, and I have it under control now. My doctor manages my medication, and I’ve learned coping mechanisms. I do therapy. I’m doing everything I can to make sure I’m healthy enough to raise Becca, but Lucas could still use it against me in court. He was so convincing when he threatened it… I can’t help but worry.”

  “Lucas is the picture of good mental health?” he asked, raising a brow.

  “I can’t lose her, Brent. She’s…she’s everything to me.”

  He shook his head, and it was his turn to reach out, his fingers brushing the skin on my arms. “You aren’t going to lose her. We won’t let that happen. You may have your issues, Naomi, but you’re a damn good mother. Take it from someone who knows what a bad one is. That little girl is loved and taken care of. Any judge worth a damn could see that.”

  I smiled with one side of my mouth, glancing down where our bare feet were just inches from each other’s on the cherry floor. “He’ll try to take her from me. He’s already said. If I serve him with papers, it’ll be a fight. Even if I win, how can I put her through that? Always having to choose sides? Always seeing us fighting?”

  He pressed his lips together, studying my expression. “Having a happy home doesn’t mean having people pretending to be happy. As she gets older, do you really want her to think what you two have is the picture of happiness she should strive for? Is this the kind of marriage you want for her?” When I didn’t answer, he went on. “What do you want for her, Naomi? In life? In a partner? What do you want for your daughter?”

  I jolted, forcing the answer out as his questions continued. “I want her to be happy. I want her to feel loved. Appreciated. Taken care of.”

  He closed his eyes slowly, and when he opened them, there was an emotion I didn’t recognize on his face. “So why do you deserve any less?”

  “You don’t think Lucas loves me?”

  “Shouldn’t you be able to adamantly argue that he does?”

  “I know he does—”

  “My brother isn’t capable of loving anyone but himself. Not really. He never has been. He’s just like my mother. They both use people until they’re of no further use to them, and then they cut their losses and disappear. For my mother, it was to get drugs. For Lucas it’s, I don’t know, it’s to feel good about himself, I guess. To prove that he’s worthy of love, even if he won’t give it in return. He uses and manipulates. It’s what he’s always done. Girlfriends, friends, me… Lucas isn’t capable of caring about anyone. Or experiencing happiness. Or feelings of any kind, for that matter. He only wants what brings him pleasure in the moment. As soon as he’s done with you, as soon as you are no longer of any use to him, he’ll cut you off—whatever that means for your relationship.”

  “What are you talking about? That’s not true. He loves me. He loves Becca.”

  “He knows how he’s supposed to feel about you both, sure. He knows how he’s supposed to react and what he’s supposed to say. He watches people, imitates what he sees, but Lucas isn’t capable of loving anyone—not like you or me.”

  I furrowed my brow at him. “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because he’s back talking to my mom, maybe he never stopped, but if he’s around her, his behavior is sure to get worse. And because I thought you were happy with him… I’ve never wanted to disrupt that, but I’m seeing now that you aren’t. At least not in the way that you used to be. If you’re planning to leave him, I want you to know what you’re dealing with. I want you to know he’s not going to make any decisions out of empathy or love. His desires are purely selfish—he wants to win, he wants to be in control, he wants to have the power. Losing you…losing Becca, those things won’t help him accomplish any of his goals.” He swallowed, taking another drink of his coffee. “He could be dangerous, Naomi. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  His words struck me, like bricks to the chest. “No… I mean, Lucas would never… He’s not violent. He wouldn’t hurt us.”

  He didn’t seem convinced as he drained the mug, setting it on the counter with finality. “I just want you to promise me you’ll be smart. Pi
ck a day when he’s out of the house, and you and Becca should leave. You can tell him it’s happening once you’re somewhere safe.”

  I swallowed. “You’re…serious about this, aren’t you?”

  His eyes were stone as he reached out, taking my arms in his hands. “Deadly.”

  “You’re scaring me…” I told him, trying to stop the shaking that had become evident in his arms. He trailed a finger across my shoulder and stopped just under my jaw.

  “I’d never let anything happen to you. Either of you. You know that, right?” I tried to nod, but a tear slipped out, giving away my lie. He used his thumb to brush it away, his concerned eyes drilling into mine. “You’re safe with me, Naomi. You always have been.”

  “Why are you so good to me?” I whispered, a tear dripping from my top lip.

  His eyes softened even more, the answer there in the sterling gray tone of his irises. “Because, unlike my brother, I do know how to love.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath as I watched his lips lower toward mine. I should’ve stopped it. Should’ve said no, backed away. But just like the last time, I remained frozen, simultaneously wanting it to stop and never wanting it to end. His lips met mine with passion, and I melted into his arms, forgetting, just for the moment, all the darkness just over the horizon.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Clara

  “What do you mean you told Naomi?” I called into the phone, sidestepping out of the congested hospital hallway and against a wall between patient rooms.

  “I told her everything. She wants me to leave. She’s going to give me the divorce.” His voice was breathless, like he’d been running. “Did you mean it when you said you’d leave with me if I wanted you to?”

  “I—” I froze, the question catching me off guard. “I don’t know, Luke. I said that before you lied to me. I don’t know how to feel about everything right now. I don’t know how you can expect me to answer something like that right now.” I glanced behind me in the hallway. “I just need time to think. We should discuss this more. Where are you?”

  “I’m leaving Naomi’s now. I’ve packed a bag. I’m…I’m leaving town, Clara, and I’m not coming back. Are you coming with me, or aren’t you?”

  My heart picked up speed, my body ice cold. “What do you mean you’re leaving town? Right now?”

  “I can’t be here anymore. It’s too hard. Naomi wants us to have our space and her family is here, so it’s only fair that I be the one to leave. Only…” He paused. “Only I don’t want to leave without you.” His voice was filled with whimsy as he spoke. “We can go anywhere you want. Hot, cold, north, south. Tropical. Snowy. Wherever you want to go, just name the place and we’ll go there. We’ll start our lives together. Get a place. Get jobs. Just…just be together. Isn’t that what we’ve always wanted?”

  I lowered my voice. “It-it is. Yes, of course, but…I mean, I thought we could plan it, though. I mean we have jobs here. Good jobs. Do you really want to leave with no notice? And, more than that, I have an apartment, a lease. We have commitments here, friends. We aren’t teenagers, Luke. We can’t just pack up and move and hope no one notices. There are things we have to take care of.”

  “We can take care of all that from wherever we are. We’ll tell the hospital there’s been an emergency and we’re having to relocate. Your lease only has about four months left on it, so we can pay it up and sell your things.” He sighed. “I just thought we could do this together…something freeing and exciting and new. I thought we could be kids again, Clara. That’s how you make me feel, like a stupid teenager in love for the very first time.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what to do with my feelings for you.”

  I felt heat rush to my face, placing a hand over my cheek. “I—”

  “Just withdrawal,” I heard him whisper.

  “Sorry?”

  “Sorry, I’m just at the bank,” he said, then I heard a shuffle as his palm swiped across the microphone. “What do you mean?” A pause. “No, that’s impossible. Check it again.”

  “Luke, what’s going on?”

  He wasn’t listening to me anymore, too busy arguing with the teller. “I don’t care what it says. I know what’s in there.” Another pause, a hateful sigh. “Is there a manager I can speak to? Oh, of course she is.”

  “Luke, I should let you—”

  “Yeah, no. Just…I’ll be back.” He growled, and I heard the microphone being swiped with skin again. “Sorry, you still there?”

  “I’m here. Is everything okay?”

  “When do you get off?”

  “In about an hour. Is everything okay?” I repeated.

  His tone lightened. “Everything’s fine. Just a misunderstanding. I’ll have to come back tomorrow morning when the manager’s here. Can I meet you at home when you get off?”

  Home. The word warmed me to my core. Our home. Finally. He was offering me all I’d ever wanted with him. Was I really going to deny how badly I wanted it?

  I smiled to myself, rubbing my palm over my eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be there around seven.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice when he responded. “I’ll be waiting.”

  When I arrived home that evening, Lucas was waiting on the porch, a beer in his hand. I walked up the steps to the apartment, entering through the side door and walking through the apartment to meet him on the porch.

  When I opened the door, he turned his head, appearing shocked to see me. His expression warmed as his eyes met mine. There he was. The man I’d known. The man I’d loved. The man who’d come before the lies.

  I still wasn’t okay with what he’d done, try as I might to rationalize it, but the truth was, I’d come before Naomi. He’d married her out of duty. Because he was a good man. The lies didn’t negate that. He’d done what he could to do right by us both.

  I hated how much it hurt me. I hated that I’d been so naïve, but that hatred didn’t erase the love I felt for him. It didn’t take away the twelve years of memories we’d made.

  I fell into his arms, the fight becoming a silent memory that I feared would forever sit between us. I loved him. I was angry with him. I was hurt. I was happy. I wanted to be with him. I finally could. Finally, the invisible wall between us had been removed. Finally, I could have him in every way.

  I looked up at him, my vision blurring with tears, and his expression said he knew my every thought. I was sure he did. Luke knew me. He always had. I smiled at him, my chin quivering, and he placed a finger under my chin, lifting his lips to mine.

  “I love you,” he whispered, seconds before he pressed our lips together.

  I couldn’t say it back, but I didn’t need to. He felt it in the way I held him, in the soft exhale from my lips. I didn’t need to say anything with Luke. He’d always just known.

  When we broke apart, he pulled me to his chest, rubbing my back, kissing my hair. “I’m so sorry, Clara. I’m an idiot.”

  “You are,” I agreed, looking up at him and pressing myself up on my tiptoes to kiss him again. “But I love you anyway.”

  “Have you thought any more about my offer?”

  “To run away together, you mean?” I teased. “That offer?”

  “That offer,” he confirmed, one brow raised as he waited for me to answer. As if there was any choice.

  I chewed my lip, making him think I was considering it. “When will we leave?”

  “You mean you’ll go?”

  “I wish you were less impulsive,” I admitted, “and that I had time to actually plan for this, but I’d be lying if I said I thought I could let you leave and dismiss the chance to go with you. I need to be with you, Luke. Here, there, wherever you go. I love you. I want to be with you in whatever capacity I can ’til the end of time.” I stepped back, pressing a finger into his chest. “On one condition…”

  A broad grin grew on his face, though he hesitated slightly. “What’s that?”

  “No more lies. No more secrets.”

  He cocked his
head to the side, and his shoulders tensed. If I hadn’t known him so well, I would’ve believed him. Instead, I watched the telltale signs happen before my eyes. “No more lies, my love. No more secrets. I want you to know everything about me.”

  I only knew one thing as he spoke the words, one thing he’d never fool me about again: he was still lying. About what, I wasn’t sure. But I couldn’t let myself be deceived again.

  Chapter Thirty

  Alaina

  When I came to, I was alone. The room was dark, my memory foggy. I tried to sit up in bed, though my body was rigid and sore. As I sat up, the cover fell away, and I realized I was still dressed in my T-shirt and shorts, my clothing soaked in sweat. There was a sliver of light peeking through the curtains to my right, a sign that it was morning and I was home. I reached over, flicking on the lamp on my bedside table and glancing around.

  What had happened? I tried to recall my last memories.

  The texts.

  Lucas was drinking.

  The fight.

  He’d wanted me to have an abortion.

  The fight.

  The tunneling vision.

  The tight chest.

  Lucas’ arms around me.

  Lucas.

  I listened carefully, through the quiet apartment, trying to determine if I was alone. There were no discernible noises. I glanced back at the nightstand again, trying to clear the sleep from my eyes. There was a glass of water on the nightstand next to a scrawled note in handwriting I recognized at once.

  I picked up the note first, reading over it.

  You had a panic attack from stress…I gave you some medicine to calm you. You may feel a little weak. Just stay in bed today. I’ll be back after work to check on you. Love you.