Page 21 of Not Mine to Rescue

My body shook. I stared at the barren winter landscape and the cars that rushed past me. The world was oblivious to me. I was nothing to it. Nothing to my husband—ex husband. He’d replaced me with an upgraded model. One complete with a womb that fucking worked right. I lifted my hands off the steering wheel to push away the expectations crowding around me like a swarm of ghosts.

But I couldn’t shove the negativity away. It bubbled up from inside me. I was toxic. A mess. Worthless. I’d never get what Denise was experiencing right now.

“I hate you.”

The words came out as a whisper. The trouble was, I didn’t know if I was saying them about Jim, Denise, their child, or myself.

Another car whooshed past, jarring me from the loop of anguish. I had to pick up Molly. “I have a purpose.”

God. Jim was right. When he’d brought her home, he said something like, “You need someone to love.”

“That god-dammed-motherfucker.” I hated that he was right.

Anger was good. It cleared my eyes and put fire in my veins. It sustained me until I turned onto the driveway to Lemon’s. I drove slowly in case the dogs were out.

Sure enough, Wombat had DA and Molly off their leashes. But they were in the fenced-off section where the larger dogs played and the yard lights dispelled the gloom. He picked up a stick and threw it as far as he could. DA ran at full speed. Molly hung back, opting for a burst of speed right at the end to snatch the stick from DA and trot back to Wombat.

I watched her from where I’d parked. She was beautiful. Even as DA tried to tug it from her, she kept her head high. Her silky coat rippled in the wind.

I bit my lip.

You need someone to love.

He must have known that I didn’t love him anymore.

He’d given up on me, on us, on our family, and bought me a dog as a replacement.

I hated him for being so damn perfect.

Wombat noticed the car and waved. He gathered both dogs. He clipped DA to a chain and got Molly’s leash before he led her out of the enclosure.

That gave me enough time to wipe my eyes and check my makeup in the visor mirror. I was a mess. I shoved my smeared mascara upward so the streaks faked a haphazard wing at the corner of each eye. Then I let out a gust of air to brace myself.

Did it matter if I looked good? No.

I’d stalled so long, Wombat was beside the car. “Hey, ’you okay?”

I’m not okay! I opened my door to get out and fake it. But I wasn’t strong enough to stand, let alone speak.

“I heard your asshole ex couldn’t make it.”

I glanced at his face. He wasn’t joking around. “They’re having the baby.”

“He should have called.” The growl in his voice shook me.

“It’s understandable. He’s excited. It’s their first.” My voice cracked on the last word. We’d always planned for two. My head hurt from the hollow echoes of the past. Somehow I managed to get out of the car.

“Look at me.”

Until he spoke, I hadn’t realized I was avoiding his eyes. Now, I didn’t want to expose myself. I tried to shove everything away so I could face him. “Why?”

He held my chin and turned my face from one side to the other. “You’ve been crying.”

“I’m here to pick up Molly. I apologize for how late it is.”

His jaw worked to the side as if he dared me to knock it back into place.

A flash of anger surged through me. But I wasn’t a violent person. Carefully, I opened the fist I’d made.