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“He never told you about that?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“Maybe I should let him tell you—”
“When?” I ask, with a little laugh. “If he hasn’t told me by now…”
“Maybe he felt like it wasn’t his story to tell?” Freddy says with a shrug.
I shake my head, but then think about it. If his ex-wife had postpartum depression, maybe he really didn’t think it was his place to tell me. Not that I would have listened if he’d tried recently, anyway.
“He was the one who found her,” he says.
“Found her?” I ask. But as soon as the words are out, I gasp and clamp my hand over my mouth.
He nods, solemn.
“When?”
“I think it was after the third miscarriage?”
My heart crumbles in my chest and I press my knuckles into it. For Derek to be so stressed about pregnancy, and then to go through a third miscarriage and thenfindhis wife at her worst… it’s almost too much to bear. And he’s been bearing it for years. Alone.
“That’s awful,” I say before I can stop myself.
“I know. You know this and I know this. But—and you’ll have to talk to him to know for sure—if I had to guess? I’d guess that him using that escort service was less about the sex and more about not wanting to hurt anyone else.”
My stomach pitches and a well of deep, dark sadness swells through me. If that’s true… it makes sense. Everything Freddy is saying makes perfect sense. I wish I was hearing it from Derek, but I’m glad I’m hearing it at all.
I let my head fall back against the headrest, recalling the strange number he’d been calling from. It connects. And while there’s a huge gap between understanding and becoming a couple again, I feel a thawing in my heart, as if it’s ready to try to understand.
Freddy turns onto our street and soon enough, we’re in front of the penis-peach house.
“Just… give him a chance? To explain, I mean?” Freddy says, as he shifts the truck into park.
“I’ll try,” I say.
He presses his lips together in a grim, resigned expression. Then he nods and exits the truck. He’s at my door to help me down before I can do it myself. He carries my suitcase up the front steps as I waddle behind him.
“Take care,” he says, squeezing me into a side hug and pressing a light kiss to my temple.
“Thanks, Freddy,” I say, hugging him back. I reach into my purse and retrieve my keys. The weight of the new keyring is tempting, but I decide to go home first. I unlock the door and push it open.
“Honey, I’m home!” I call.
All the lights are on, but there’s no answer. Something seems off. It smells… new in here? I don’t know how else to describe it. I walk through the living room, the dining room, the kitchen. All the lights are on, and nobody is home. It’s so strange. And then I reach my bedroom door and gasp.
CHAPTER48
MEGAN
My bedroom dooris wrapped like a gift. It’s covered in wrapping paper and has a huge bow on it.
“Ains? You here?” I call. “Tanz?”
There’s no answer. Her bedroom door is shut, the lights off. Maybe she’s not actually home. I reach for the handle to my door and turn it slowly, as if something might pop out and scare me. It doesn’t. What I see really doesn’t scare me. But it doesn’t make me any less surprised.
“What?” I whisper, taking in the space.
