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“Was keeping it a secret his idea?”
“It was both of ours,” he answered, but Miranda noticed his hesitation before doing so.
Miranda stood too. She took a few steps away from him, toward the front door. They needed to discuss things, but she realized now wasn’t the time. The turmoil inside her was too much. A big glass of whiskey called to her. She was just this side of shaking—with rage, with fear, with disappointment…and with dread.
This was all too weird.
She glanced at the leavings of their dinner—and their happy father and daughter time together seemed much longer ago. “You want me to clear the table? Clean up?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Daddy kept his back turned.
She opened her mouth to argue, then shut it. She grabbed her coat off the hook by the front door and left.
She wasn’t sure when she’d return.
As she passed through the double glass doors of the condo building and started down the steps toward busy Dexter Avenue, she groaned and whispered, “Shit.”
A black Lexus SUV, an Uber or Lyft most likely, glided toward the curb and stopped. The back door opened and out came Trey.Why couldn’t I have left a few minutes sooner? I don’t need this!She stared down at the pebble-dashed walkway and attempted to hurry by him.
As he neared her, he didn’t step aside to allow her to pass. No, he did the opposite and blocked her way. She stopped too and let out atsk—disgust. She glanced at him and rolled her eyes.
“Hello, Miranda. Did you and your dad have a good time today?”
Many responses went through her mind. She could have simply said, “Yes,” and walked on. She could have sarcastically snapped, “What doyouthink?” But really, the best answer, in her angry and flustered state, was one that was loaded with meaning.
“You weren’t supposed to be here.”
He looked at her, mouth open, eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t wait to hear what she might say beyond that simple statement but hurried on to the sidewalk.
A misty drizzle began as she headed downhill and away from the condo. The dampness felt good on her face.
It wasn’t a short walk at all to the U District, but she felt like she needed the time alone, in the dark and wet, to absorb the news and decide how she should react.
Had she lost her dad?
Chapter Thirteen
“OKAY. YOU NEEDto tell me. Why the name change? Why did Bruno become Trey?”
Trey stared at him. “Hello to you too. Can I get out of this wet jacket, maybe? Grab a beer?”
Connor had hated to see Miranda leave their happy celebration so disheartened. Things had gone so well until she noticed what Connor had forgotten—the damned wedding band on the third finger of his left hand. He didn’t blame her for being down. He should have told her. And he couldn’t avoid the question staring him in the face—who gets married and then keeps it a secret? Shouldn’t that have been a red flag?
Ah, even he was embarrassed to witness his own internal protest, the one he’d have scoffed at if anyone other than a lovelorn teenager had voiced it. “But I love him.”
Itwasthe truth. In the clear light of day, it came down to that. Trey was charming and handsome. Smart. He was good to Connor. He was great in bed.
And he knew his being together with Trey had gotten back to Steve and that gave him a sense of satisfaction, even though he knew he was being petty.
Connor smiled. “Sure. I’m sorry to come at you like that when you just walked in the door. But Miranda knows now, knows we’re hitched.” Connor sighed. “And she’s not happy.”
Trey pulled off his wet denim jacket and hung it over one of the dining room chairs. Calmly, he grabbed a fork and speared a bite of potato. He chewed thoughtfully as he looked out the window.
Connor had an odd thought, one he banished from consciousness.Buying time to get your story together?He shook his head. He didn’t want to be that guy—the paranoid and mistrustful husband. A relationship was doomed without a foundation of trust.
Trey moved to the kitchen, and although Connor couldn’t see him, he could hear him opening the refrigerator and the release of pressure as he opened a bottle of beer.
He returned. “Let’s go sit down in the living room.”
