“No doubt,” Caroline murmurs. “Is Christopher home?”
“No,” I say slowly. “Why do you ask?”
She makes a small noise. “No reason. Geoff was hoping to get some financial advice from him.”
I pull my phone away from my ear, frowning at the time. “It’s after nine,” I say. “What kind of advice does your husband need this late?”
Caroline clucks her tongue. “I didn’t even check the time before calling. You’re right, though. It’s not anything that can’t wait until tomorrow. You know how Geoff is—impulsive when he’s got an idea, and after instant gratification.”
“Right,” I murmur, wondering if the realizations of the day have me seeing suspicion everywhere. Caroline and I have never had a great relationship, the sisterly bond between us fairly nonexistent, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t still my sister.
“Caroline…”
When I trail off, she prods. “What is it?”
“Have you ever suspected Geoff of cheating?”
There’s a stilted pause before a startled laugh escapes her. “What kind of question is that?” There’s a taut pause, her voice going stiff as she demands, “Have you heard anything?”
“No, no,” I rush to reassure her, staring down into the smooth white wine in my glass. “I was just?—”
“This isn’t about Christopher, is it?” she interrupts. “Because he’s a provider, Lynley. He might work long hours, but he takes care of you and the kids in ways that truly matter. You’re set for life.”Definitely not imagining the bitterness now.“Don’t jeopardize that because you’re feeling a little insecure.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Isn’t it?” she says archly. “We always knew he was out of your league, in terms of money and status. It was pretty smart, getting pregnant with Mase so quickly.”
My knuckles go white as I tighten my grip on the glass. “I did not trap him,” I say hotly. “You know that.” I drain the wine, setting my glass down firmly on the side table, feeling braver than I should. “Did you know Christopher and I have a prenup?” I ask casually.
“Of course you do,” she says after a beat. “He needed to protect his assets, especially considering the family he comes from.”
I shake my head, not wanting to delve into the argument of our family’s status versus his. “Oh, the prenup definitely favors him,” I agree. “His father made sure of that. But my lawyer insisted on adding in an infidelity clause.”
There’s a hiss of air through the phone line rightbefore Caroline smoothly says, “Well, there you have it. He wouldn’t risk voiding the prenup, would he?”
“It wouldn’t be a smart move,” I agree, relaxing back against the couch, drumming my fingers on the armrest. “Anyway, it’s been a long day, and Ginny’s likely to wake through the night. I should get to bed.”
Caroline hums, her voice softening as she says, “I hope she feels better soon.” A voice calls her name in the background, and she yells back before coming back to the line. “I’ve got to go. Geoff needs my help with something. Give my love to the little duck.”
She makes kissing noises, and then she’s gone before I can say anything else.
Christopher waltzesinto the house after eleven, which is actually earlier than I expected. I’m already in bed, my back to him as I listen to him strip out of his clothes, knowing he’ll leave them wherever they drop.
He steps into the bathroom, the light flicking on and brightening our room before the door snicks shut. A beat passes, and then the toilet flushes and the shower turns on, making me roll my eyes.
I’m still awake when the mattress dips as he slides under the covers. He immediately dashes the hope that he’ll leave me alone when he wraps his arms around me and drags me across the mattress and against him. I’m dressed in flannel pajamas—the thickest I could find—but I still feel his dick twitch against me, making it clear that he’s naked.
My lips curl into a sneer, hidden in the darkness of theroom, and I don’t move, keeping my breathing even and my body relaxed.
“Lynnie?” he murmurs, a hand sliding around to cup my breast, teasing my covered nipple until he feels it harden. I lie there, unaffected and uninterested, fighting a cringe as he presses a kiss to my neck, grinding his hips against me.
A minute of determined petting passes before he finally takes a hint, heaving out an annoyed sigh and rolling to his back. He fidgets for several minutes, but then I hear a soft snuffle as his breathing deepens.
I’m left lying here awake, my mind whirling, wondering how many times he spent today fucking someone else before coming home to me.
How many women have there been?
Did he use a condom?
