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“While you’re at it, you need to talk to your husband,” Grandma more than suggested.
“He’s not really my husband,” I whispered through the ache.
“Please.” Ariana waved her hand. “I don’t care what you say. He didn’t marry you because you were pregnant. The man was a mess when he couldn’t get ahold of you last week. He was desperate to find you. He called all of us, and then, when we couldn’t find you, he almost called the police. Do you know how many times we’ve caught him sitting outside your door this past week, listening for any sign that you needed him?”
I shook my head. I had no idea.
“You should have seen him in the hospital waiting room while you were in surgery,” Kinsley added to the commentary. “He kept saying he would never forgive himself if something happened to you. He wanted us all to know how much he loves you.”
That was all well and good, but they had no idea about the lie we had been living. The tangled web we were trapped in. They couldn’t know about the baby and Brant.
“And,” Kinsley continued, “he’s been camping out in the living room for days now. Which is sweet but kind of hard to bring your date home to. I don’t think Brock likes Tristan all that much.”
I didn’t think that was it. I think it was that he knew how Brant truly felt about Kinsley. Despite that, I was happy for my sister. Happy? What a novel concept. Yet, I was happy for her. “Ah, Kins, I’m sorry if we ruined your time with Tristan before he flew back to England.”
She gave me a coy smile. “We found other ways to have alone time.” She blushed. “Besides, he’s coming back next month for Thanksgiving. He wants to see what the fuss is about our American holiday.”
“I think he just wants to see you again,” Ariana wisely stated.
“I think so too.” Kinsley twirled her beautiful blonde hair. She was absolutely radiant. It eased some of my guilt.
“Let’s get you out of bed and into the shower.” Grandma was a woman of action.
“I’ll make you something to eat,” Kinsley offered. “And this time you’re going to eat it.” She could sound tough when she wanted to.
“Okay,” was all I could say.
Grandma and Ariana helped me to the bathroom. I think more to make sure that I actually showered. On the way there, I took a moment to look at Brock as he slept on the couch. His long, muscular body eclipsed the couch. He hadn’t shaved in days and had a nice layer of stubble on his handsome face. Yet even while he slept, I could tell he wasn’t at peace. He was twitching and holding on to a throw pillow like a vise. I hated to think of the nightmares he was having.
“He talks in his sleep often,” Ariana whispered. “Always fighting someone.”
“You both need some help.” Grandma didn’t mince words. “First, a shower, though. And use a lot of soap.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I sat in the small porcelain tub, feeling too weak to stand for a long period of time, and let the water cascade over me. I breathed in the mint and eucalyptus shampoo I had just rinsed out of my hair. It was refreshing and smelled clean, like a fresh start. I needed one of those but didn’t know where to begin. While I tried to think of where to start, I heard the doorknob lock pop. I rolled my eyes. I was sure it was Ariana or Kinsley checking to make sure I was actually showering. When we had all lived together, there was no such thing as privacy. It had been a common practice of ours to do our hair or makeup while one of the others showered. Three women and one bathroom necessitated it. Though really, it was more that we didn’t have a healthy respect for personal boundaries. I missed those days.
“You don’t need to check on me,” I hollered over the water.
“I’m not,” a masculine voice called back.
I pulled my legs to me, feeling suddenly modest, before I peeked my head out of the shower curtain. “Brock, what are you doing in here? I’m naked.”
“I figured.” He smirked.
My brows rose. “I know we’re technically married, but uh . . .”
“But what?” His mischievous eyes dared me to finish my sentence.
“You know what.” I slid the shower curtain shut and hid behind it.
Apparently Brock didn’t have a healthy respect for personal space either. He sat next to the tub and peeked his head in.
“Excuse me.” I pushed his head out.
He chuckled. “You do realize I saw everything at the hospital, right?”
My cheeks burned. “I was in too much pain to care then.”
“You care now?”
I had to think about it. “Brock, for a long time I hoped to be able to share my body with you, but it’s too late.”
