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I know better than anyone how selfish he is, yet I’m still appalled. It’s the first night he’s spent with them since we left, and he couldn’t even manage that.
“They’re going to wake up to discover you just ditched them,” I say, my voice low with fury—a fury that threatens to turn into tears if I back away from it for a second. “How’s that supposed to make them feel?”
He rolls his eyes once more. "This is so typical. You shouldbe fucking ecstatic. You want them all the time, and now you get them, but you’re still bitching.”
“Yes, of course I’m bitching! You're running off on a last-minute trip with your teenage girlfriend and you don’t give a shit about how that will make the twins feel."
He laughs. "Do you hear how bitter you are? Maybe that’s why you’re home alone on a Saturday night."
I sink to the front step as Jeremy peels out of the driveway, trying hard not to cry. Part of it is frustration at how little control I have here, that he can hurt my children and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. But it’s also that his words, as always, carry just enough truth to do damage. He was right—I had a free Saturday and I chose to spend it working before falling asleep alone. Maybe Iambitter. Maybe I deserved the way he treated me, the way my mother and father treated me too.
Maybe it really is me who’s the problem.
“Hey,” says a voice. Caleb—hair sleep-tousled and eyes barely open—emerges into the circle of light cast by the lamp on the side of his garage. The sight of him briefly knocks every other thought from my head. He’s in nothing but shorts—smooth skin and taut muscles on full display. He runs his hands through his hair and his biceps pop in response, his abs flashing to life, stacked neatly one atop the next like a pack of dinner rolls.
And then he yawns, and reality intrudes. He was asleep and we woke him up with our fighting. Why must every humiliating incident I suffer have an audience, and why is that audience alwayshim?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I guess we woke you.”
He shrugs. "My window was open, and he was being such a dick that I thought you might need some backup. I couldn’t find my shorts, so it took me a minute.”
I try to ignore the image that comes to my head unbidden—ofhimbeforehe added the shorts. Was he naked? Inveryfitted briefs? My mind is capable of diving into the gutter at even the worst of moments, it seems.
“I hope you’ve got a good lawyer,” Caleb says.
“I do,” I reply, though I’m not sure it’s true—Darryl left me a message saying he was‘really busy right now’and would have his associate, Sharon, take over. She’s done absolutely nothing.
“Seriously, Lucie…that guy is unhinged. I don’t know how you ever thoughthewas going to provide you your fairy tale.”
“I didn’t.”I came back here once the house was legally mine, hoping to see you, and met Jeremy instead. “I went through most of college with my friends telling me I was too picky, so I decided to see if they were right and got pregnant almost immediately by accident.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
"No,I’msorry. You must feel like you're living next to the set of a trashy reality show.”
“Believe me, Kate and I have been theinterestingneighbors more often than I’d like.” He sees the sympathy in my gaze and shakes his head. “It wasn’t just the drugs, and to be honest, it was pretty entertaining at times. Kate’s probably the smartest person I know. I used to enjoy listening to her tell off neighbors whose yard signs offended her.”
It shouldn’t bother me to hear the admiration in his voice, but it does. "You must really love her to be willing to wait like that."
He pushes a hand through his hair again, and infinite muscles in his stomach ripple in response. “I’m not waiting, actually. I had my friend Harrison—he’s a lawyer—file for divorce.”
My mouth falls open. “You did? What led to that?”
“He’s been on me about it for a while. I realized I was going to—” His eyes are wary as they meet mine. “For all my failures, I’ve never cheated on anyone. I wanted that to remain true.”
In other words, Caleb wants to get laid. The idea of Caleb sexually deprived and eager makes a muscle in my core clamp down so hard it almost hurts. I think of what it would be like, slowly undressing as he watches, and that muscle tightens further.
We’re both single, so none of what I’m picturing is impossible, but I’m the opposite of what he wants. If he just escaped a committed relationship—the one that convinced him he didn’t ever want to be in one again—he sure isn’t interested in a single mom with two kids.
“If you’re a free man, shouldn’t you be off living out your single bachelor fantasies?”
“I’m not entirely free yet. We have to prove we’ve tried to reach Kate first, but…” He raises a brow. “Single bachelor fantasies?”
I grin. “You look like a threesome-with-supermodels-type, if I had to guess.”
That dimple of his flashes in the moonlight, and the muscle low in my belly spasmsagain. “I’m pretty sure every guy is a threesome-with-supermodels-type if he can make that happen.”
I wave a dismissive hand at him. “Look at you. Obviously, you can make it happen.”
