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I nod, silently acknowledging her words. I don’t know if she came here expecting me to say I understand, that it’s okay. But I just don’t have it in me. Nothing about this is okay.
“I guess everything else he said then is also a lie.”
“Which is?” I know I shouldn’t ask—spare myself the details—but a sick part of me wants to know how far his treachery and deceit went.
“I think he’s caused enough damage,” she says, shaking her head.
“If it’s something about me, I think I have the right to know.”
She shifts in her chair. “Things like he’s worried for your mental health, and that you’re fragile, and he was scared you’d hurt yourself. All excuses for why we needed to keep our relationship quiet, I’m guessing.”
I chuckle, but it’s an ugly, cynical thing. I have the strongest urge to check if I haven’t woken up in an alternate universe. I’ll give him fragile when I see him again. And it won’t be myself I’m hurting.
“I want you to know that he’s never told me he loves me. He only made me believe that he did. Not even after the baby did he say the words.”
The world falls still around me, and it’s as if I can feel the last vestiges of the life I thought I had icing over and shattering into a million pieces. Quinn’s going to be a dad. Not only has she taken my husband from me, she’s taken my dreams. I clench my hands under the table, my heart racing like a freight train.
“You’re pregnant?”
She hesitates, licking her bottom lip. “He didn’t tell you?”
I can’t muster any words. All I can do is shake my head, my heart aching when her hand moves to her belly as if she needs to protect the tiny life from me. Tendrils of anger snake through my body, and I take a deep breath, trying to keep my face smooth. It should have been me having this baby, not her.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, wiping another tear away.
“How long has he known?”
“A few days. He tried to convince me to get an abortion.”
“And?”
“I’m keeping it.” Her voice is defiant as if she’s also expecting me to try and convince her to get rid of it. I might be angry. I might want to rage at the fact that someone else is having his child. A child that should have been mine. But I would never do that.
I nod again. “And Quinn? What are you going to do about him?”
It’s slowly dawning on me that she has more of a claim on him than I do. We might be married, but they’re going to bring a life into the world. Together. What’s more important than that? Marriage is a legal commitment made on a piece of paper. Something you can end and walk away from. You can’t walk away from a child.
She shrugs helplessly. “Besides the fact that my uncle fired him? Nothing. I can’t change that he’s the baby’s father, and I’ll never keep him away from him or her, but that’s all. I don’t want anything to do with him. He’s not the man I thought he was. I’m going to go back home.”
I don’t want to, but I can’t stop the pang of pity at the lost look on her face. She’s still so young, and I’m sure this is not what she pictured for her life.
“I never imagined I’d become a single parent,” her voice echoes my thoughts, “but my parents are very supportive and will help me.”
“That’s something, at least,” I mutter. I feel sorry for her. I do. I’m not the only one Quinn was lying to, and unless she missed her calling and should have gone into acting instead, I believe her. But just as much as I feel sorry, I hate her also. I know I shouldn’t because Quinn was the one who decided to cheat. If it wasn’t Justine somewhere down the line, it might have been someone else. I can’t help it. Maybe with time, when this isn’t still so fresh, that hate will lessen, but right now, I feel like I can’t see the wood from the trees. It feels as if I’m being hit by a new revelation every week.
“Anyway, I didn’t come here to talk about me. I just wanted you to know that I deeply regret what happened and the part I played in it. This is not the type of woman I’ve ever wanted to be, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself.”
I nod, standing up. “I know this must have been hard for you, and I appreciate your apology. It took a lot of courage. Having said that, I hope you’ll understand when I say I never want to see you again.”
She nods and gets up slowly.
“Wait,” she reaches into her pocket and holds out a hand. “I don’t plan on ever seeing him again, but if you…” I glance down and see a gold bracelet threaded through her fingers. “…if you see him again, please will you give this to him. I don’t want it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BAILEY
I HESITATEoutside the apartment door, wondering if I should knock. It was my home for so long, but I moved out, and now I feel like a visitor waiting for permission to enter someone’s house. How can a few weeks make such a big difference?
