Cheater

60. Chloe

“You scare me,” I tell him. “Honestly. Deep in my soul, I feel like I should be terrified to let my guard down with you.”

“Why?” Dream Derek asks.

“It’s hard to explain,” Dream me says.

“Try. You can be real with me.”

“You sure about that?” I ask.

“Entirely.” He smiles that dazzling wide smile of his.

We’re in our bed, but it’s on a cloud. There are a mated pair of unicorns on the next cloud over, nuzzling noses. Their little baby unicorn sleeps curled in a ball beside them, but close to the edge.

I smile at the baby, knowing she’s safe. Because she has little pink wings.

I look away from the unicorns, back into Derek’s eyes and say, “You definitely scare me.”

“Why?” he asks.

“You could be everything I everwanted. But it might be an illusion. I’m telling myself to try to believe, but I’m so, so scared.”

“I'm real. Fall, Chloe. Open your arms wide, tip your head towards the sky. And lean back. Way back. Okay? Let go. Feel me catch you. Take what you deserve. You have to. I'm gonna make you, anyway. Let yourself have it early. Save yourself the angst. You don’t want more angst. Do you?”

Derek plucks a piece of cloud up and feeds it to me. It’s the sweetest cotton candy on my tongue.

I swallow the cotton candy and the bed vanishes, the cloud evaporates, Derek’s not here, and I’m suddenly plummeting. The unicorns lean over and watch from their cloud as I fall.

My eyes bolt open. I’m disoriented. My heart is racing. But I remember where I am. Derek’s childhood room. But, I’m alone. I hear distant male voices. They’re coming from the balcony. I slip into the adjoining bathroom and use the facilities, wash my face with a new bottle of top-shelf face wash I find in the medicine cabinet along with a new toothbrush. There’s already a wet toothbrush sitting on the vanity, a wrapper in the trash bin.

I start on my teeth, feeling strange. And emotional. I stare in the mirror and tell myself once again to ponder my power here. Use it. Could I get everything I want? Is it possible? Is it safe to tip my head back and let myself fall?

Am I making lemon meringue pie out of lemons? Or am I getting drunk on lemon drops? Delusional, thinking I can somehow wield things in my favor and not have this end in a fiery, messy end that’s statistically speaking, likely to only end with one of us dead or him in prison.

With Derek, it feels like I won the lottery, but with a caveat. That he’s crazy. That he’ll go to extremes to have what he wants with no fear of consequences and that’s the price I have to pay to have what I want.

Where will the crazy go if he gets all he wants? Sure, the twitching stopped yesterday, and he credits me with that, but what if I can’t always stop it?

I don’t know; I guess I’ll find out.

I peer out the sliding doors. He’s sitting on some patio furniture beside Jonah. He’s wearing trackpants and a hoodie. His feet are bare. Jonah is dressed in jeans and a cable knit sweater. Grace stands at the railing that overlooks the pool area, that gazebo. She’s in a thick robe and slippers. I see coffee mugs out there with them.

Derek sees me and his eyes light up in a way that has butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I wave. It looks nippy out, but I see a patio heater out there, too.

I go to the tall dresser in the closet and open the top drawer, hoping there are some socks I can wear to go outside. There’s a suit hanging in the closet and a pair of shoes on the floor for him as well as a pair of womens’ slippers with the tags still on. The drawer is full, four piles organized with two stacks of socks and underwear for men and another two stacks for a woman. All with tags on them. The women’s ones are basic bikini briefs in size medium. Three pairs, black, white, flesh-toned. Two bras. One black, one white. My size as well.

I check the second drawer. Left side, mens’ T-shirts, right side, womens’ tops.

The next drawer down has a his stack of track pants and gym shorts and a hers stack of yoga pants and shorts.

The bottom drawer has two pairs of mens’ pajama pants and two pairs of womens’ flannel pajamas.

The sliding door opens.

“I’m impressed,” I say. “When did Carson do this?”

I snatch a pair of ladies undies and a pair of socks.

“Probably the day I brought you for the anniversary brunch,” he says, eating up the distance between us. “I gave him your sizes and some of your favorite foods and drinks. He makes it a practice to keep all our old rooms ready in case we ever stay.”

“Well, I’m impressed. I’m coming out for coffee. More coffee out there?”

“There’s a coffee maker in Grace’s room. She stays over often. I’d rather have you to myself right now, though, wife.”

“Does everyone’s room lead to this balcony?”

“Boys. Girls on the other side. No balconies for them, so they’ve often made use of ours by slipping into Ash’s room at the end of the hall.”

“That must have been fun growing up,” I say.

He looks at me like I’m an alien. “Maybe if I had a different family.”

My expression drops. “Sorry. I didn’t think. I just… verbal diarrhea.”

He pulls me close. “Good morning, wife,” he says and kisses me.

“Good morning,” I reply.

“Good morning, wife,” he repeats, smiling.

My heart skips a beat. I know he wants me to say good morning, husband. I’m not sure I can form the word with my mouth right now.

“Slept great,” he finally says. “you in my arms. Can’t remember the last time I slept here and been a while since I slept so well while I was here. Or… in general.”

He doesn’t look disappointed that I didn’t say what he wanted me to say. And that’s refreshing.

“I’m gonna get dressed. Can you possibly get me a coffee from Grace’s room?” I ask.

“On it,” he replies and kisses me again.

“Are the track suits packed here okay for breakfast? Or are we expected to be dressed up?”

“Wear whatever the fuck you want, little bunny. I’d say stay just like that if I could keep you to myself all morning, but I definitely don’t want my brothers or the staff catching sight of these sexy legs.”

I laugh and slide the patio door open a couple inches and call out, “Grace?”

She turns away from the railing and looks surprised.

“You gonna dress casual for breakfast?”

“I… don’t usually do casual.”

“There are yoga clothes in here and I don’t want to wear the red ballgown, so…”

“I’ll do casual for you, sis,” she says, smiling.

“Do you have casual clothes here? If not, there are some new yoga pants in the drawer in there.”

“I’ve got workout clothes here. No worries. I’ll text Nay and Sabrina and tell ‘em to wear the same.”

“Thanks, Grace. Mornin’ Jonah.”

“Mornin’ Chloe,” Jonah replies with a little smile.

“Get back here, wife; your bare legs are showing, and you’ve got no panties on.”

I shiver and I swat Derek’s arm with my hand passing him to go back to the dresser to grab more clothes. When I come out, Derek is coming in with a mug of coffee in his hand.

“For you,” he says.

“My hero,” I whisper.

He gives me a soft kiss before he hands it to me.

This all feels so strange.

“Wanna have a quick conversation with the cook if you’re all right here.”

“I’m good,” I say.

“Be back,” he advises, kissing me again.

I take a mouthful of coffee and savor it. He knows just how I like it.

I look around, taking the space in more thoroughly, able to do so now that I’m not engaged in sex (that he also knows how to do the way I like…) and now that the sun has come up.

This room doesn’t have childhood or teenaged Derek memories in it. No old trophies, pictures, or anything to mark milestones. It’s just his old room, all his old memories and mementoes cleared away at some stage. And I’m disappointed that it’s not a shrine to a younger Derek. I’m wishing I’d gotten a better look at that photo collage yesterday before it caught fire.

I can’t fathom what his childhood entailed. And to not have support through it, instead to have all the division.

These siblings weren’t there for one another the way you’d think they’d be. At least some of them weren’t. Thad was a pot stirrer. Seems like Derek behaved like an outsider. Naomi and Asher were close, but I don’t know when that changed. And no wonder Grace ignores boundaries. She’s trying to bridge gaps all the time, for people she cares about. They grew up mostly apart at different boarding schools. Eli as the first born likely has a lot on his shoulders, seems to be the first one Michael hollers at when things go wrong. I hate the idea of this. If we ever get to a point where we choose to have children, I already know that I don’t want nannies to raise my kids, I don’t want boarding schools to ever even enter the conversation. I want my future kids to be with me until they choose to go away to school or move off on their own.

I also don’t want my kids to sit at a stuffy table in a stuffy room watching all the adults get drunk in order to tolerate being together.

It’s too soon to think about kids, so I decide to push it out of my mind. Derek and I have a long way to go before I can think about that. A very long way.

Derek comes to get me just before nine o’clock, a smile on his face.

“I was wondering where you got to,” I say.

“I made pancakes,” he says.

“Pancakes?”

“We gave the staff the morning off. Me and my brothers made breakfast. It’s ready.”

He leads me through a maze of hallways to a humongous kitchen that’s a cross between a residential and commercial kitchen. So many counters. Walk-in fridge, freezer, and pantry. In the corner is a large butcher’s block table set for everyone. Platters of pancakes, bacon, sausage, and home fries are in chafing dishes. Everyone is dressed casually, including Sabrina, who is at the table in the corner, sipping from a mug. Grace waves to me from the counter where she’s grinding coffee beans.

I wave back and give Sabrina a hesitant smile. She doesn’t return it, but her eyes warm slightly.

“Morning,” I greet.

“Hi Chloe,” she says.

Introductions weren’t necessary yesterday, so they obviously aren’t now.

Carson wheels Michael in and he’s frowning.

“Why here and not Shannon’s morning room?”

“No ceremonial bullshit, Dad,” Jonah calls over, setting cutlery at each place setting. “Just a regular family having breakfast around their kitchen table.”

Michael’s expression changes and his features relax a little. Maybe he’s ready to listen to his children and what they want.

“Mornin’, Dad,” Naomi greets, hugging him.

“Hey Dad,” Grace waves from the counter and continues working on making another pot of coffee.

Michael moves himself from the chair to the head of the table, a table I suspect is usually used by the staff.

“You jokers cooked all this?” he teases, looking at Ash who’s taking off a white apron with pancake batter and other stains on it.

“We sure did. Staff has the morning off. Car?” Ash looks to Carson, “You’ve got the rest of the day off. We’ve got Dad. We’ve got everything.”

Carson smiles. “Very well.”

“Unless you’d like to join us?” Naomi asks. “You’re a non-blood member of this family, after all.”

“I’d be a real family member if Asher would let me set him up on a date with my niece,” Carson quips.

Asher laughs.

“I’d love to join you all,” Carson goes on, “but truthfully, I could use a few hours to run some errands.”

“You don’t have to work today, Car,” Naomi says. “You do so much for us and the last several days have been a lot.”

“The errands are personal, actually.”

“Oh. Okay then. Leave it to a Steele family member to assume absolutely everything is about them, huh?” Naomi laughs at herself.

Carson opens his arms, and she steps into them. He gives her a big hug.

“That’s nice. You give good hugs. Always have,” she says, smiling.

“Where’s Joshua, Naomi?” Michael asks.

Her smile vanishes. “He had something urgent at the hospital, so he took a late flight out.”

She’s upset. It’s all over her face. I’m thinking either she’s upset he’s gone or she’s fibbing about why he’s gone.

“Load up your plates, family,” Jonah orders, bringing a large jug of orange juice over.

Grace brings a bottle of champagne. “Mimosa anyone?”

“Mimosas for everyone and a toast to our beautiful mother,” Ash announces, and Jonah and Grace take turns with the orange juice and champagne, filling all the glasses.

Once all the glasses are full, we all raise them.

“To Shannon,” Michael says, “A true beauty. She loved her family. She did, more than you’ll know. She carried a lot of pain. From her childhood. From her regrets. But she loved her children very much.”

“We know,” Elijah says, sounding a little choked.

“I loved her so much it hurt,” Michael adds. “Never dimmed in forty years. Loved her so much it seems it hurt some or all of you. But… I saw so much strength in all of you that I guess I leaned on you to help me make her happy. I…” He swallows. “I never claimed to be perfect, I’ll never be perfect. I have high expectations of my children. You’ve all been given more blessings than most and I wanted you all to work hard anyway, for you to be solid people, hard workers, to make your mother proud. I wanted to give her a beautiful life, a beautiful family, and I might have failed in some regards, but I know I gave her all of you.”

“We’re pretty awesome,” Grace quips.

Michael smiles. “I want to do better in this next chapter of my life. Be in your lives. All of your lives. I don’t want the loss of your mother to mean you don’t bother. Please. Give me a chance to be in your lives.” He looks directly at Derek. “I promise I’ll try to be more open, more approachable. Is this too much to ask? Have I hurt you all too much?”

“No, it’s not,” Grace says. “Is it?”

“No,” Asher answers.

“No,” Jonah chimes in.

“No, it’s not,” Derek puts in.

“Love you, Dad,” Naomi says, voice shaky.

“Love all of you so much,” Michael replies, gruffly.

I reach under the table and squeeze Derek’s thigh, then rub up and down his leg. His eyes close as a smile spreads across his face. He puts his hand on top of mine.

“We’re a family. We’ll continue to be a family,” Naomi says.

Elijah speaks up. “Let’s eat, family. This looks amazing and I’m famished.”

Everyone sips their mimosas.

Me and Sabrina exchange looks, and she unfolds her napkin and spreads it across her lap. “I’d love some scrambled eggs,” she says.

“Pass me some pancakes, please,” I speak up.

“Blueberry or chocolate chip?” Derek asks.

“Yes please,” I nod.

He laughs. So do a few others.

Derek forks up a stack of two of each type of pancake and drops them on my plate with a flourish. They’re huge. No way can I eat them.

“I don’t think I can eat four,” I tell him. “Take two for your plate.”

“Of course you can,” he counters. And then he drinks my mimosa. The whole thing.

I gawk at him. “Hey!”

He laughs and pours me a fresh orange juice.

“You forgot something,” I say as there’s no room for champagne. I reach for the bottle.

Derek pushes it out of my reach.

“I’m sure you don’t need a boozy breakfast, do you, wife?” he states.

“Trying to tell us something?” Ash teases. “Food for two and whisking away her alcohol?”

Derek laughs and wiggles his eyebrows.

I roll my eyes. “No, he’s not trying to tell anyone anything. Don’t be silly, Derek.” I laugh. “Pass me the butter and syrup.”

“Gladly,” he says, a big smile on his face.

Everyone is staring.

“Are Derek and Chloe going to be the first to give me a grandchild?” Michael asks, lightness in his voice. “I thought it’d be Eli and Sabrina. Then I thought maybe Nay and Joshua. But the newlyweds might beat you all. How about you all race and see who can give me the most grandchildren?” He smiles as Naomi fills his plate for him.

“I’m not ready for kids,” Nay says. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Dad.”

“Don’t look at me,” Sabrina grumbles and takes a big sip of her mimosa.

Eli doesn’t look happy. Things are still tense with them.

“Guess it’s down to us, little bunny,” Derek says and drops far too many slices of bacon onto my plate.

I roll my eyes and decide to ignore the comment.

Breakfast is mostly jovial, somewhat playful, except that Elijah and Sabrina are quiet and I can’t help but notice how he keeps looking at her. He looks at her with an intensity that’s not unlike what I’ve seen from Derek, pointed at me.

Michael comments that Derek’s pancakes are almost as good as his. From that conversation it’s obvious that this is why Derek makes pancakes sometimes. His father did it a few times when they were kids at their family vacation house in New Hampshire.

Naomi and Asher don’t interact, but there’s also no apparent awkwardness that I can read.

Derek is all about public displays of affection, making sure I have plenty to eat, and even participates in a few conversations with his siblings. Grace seems like she’s in her glory, like she’s gotten the family she’s been waiting forever for.

I catch Michael staring at me.

I smile.

He gives me a sad smile and then seems to shake off his dark thoughts.

As the meal winds down and people stop eating, Grace pipes up. “We should do Christmas at the New Hampshire homestead!”

“I like that idea,” Michael says.

“I’ll decorate, arrange Christmas dinner. Maybe with some help from my sister and sisters-in-law?”

Sabrina puts her napkin down. “Excuse me, please.” She leaves the table and walks out.

Tension crackles in the air as Elijah watches her leave, frustration etched into his features.

“She’ll come around. You’ll work at it, right?” Derek claps his brother’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Elijah mutters and then looks at his father. “If everyone’s done, can we meet now and strategize on our security issues?”

Michael puts his napkin down. “Good idea. Thank you, to all of you for being here. I appreciate it. I have something to say before we split up here.”

“Should I go?” I ask.

“No, Chloe. You’re part of this family. Seems like you’re settling in?”

“I…” I’m not sure how to finish the sentence.

Derek puts his arm around me. “Seems like she’s giving me a shot. I’m not gonna blow it.”

“Good,” Michael says. “That’s really good.” He clears his throat and takes a moment before he speaks, looking like he might be fighting emotion. Everyone waits.

“I… just want to tell you all that… that I appreciate you being here. It’s not going to be easy adjusting to life without your mother. She was the light of my life. Truly. But at the same time…” He swallows hard. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because… you all know how much I adored her.”

“We do,” Grace asserts firmly.

“I’ll never forgive myself for allowing that to happen. For assuming it was safe to take her on an impromptu trip to a play she wanted to see. She found out about it last minute, it was an old modeling protegee’s opening night on Broadway, and when we found the jet was free, she… we… we just lived in the moment. We don’t know how those enemies pulled it all off, don’t have all the details yet, but I don’t want any of you to make that same mistake of assuming you’re safe. Please be cautious. Vigilant. Very. I also want to say…” He swallows. “I want to take some time off. Recover from my injuries. Golf. Go fishing. When we’ve gotten justice, of course, but I still have a lot of life left in me, I think, and… while I loved looking after your mother, love my work, it took a lot. A lot. Running the companies, being a husband. I could use some help with the company so I can have a chance to…” He lets that hang, looking for the right words.

“Worry about just yourself for a while?” Naomi offers. “It makes sense, Dad. Don’t feel bad about it. She was very high maintenance. We would all want her back in a heartbeat… but… I understand how you might want to take some time for yourself for a change. Take a breath. It must have been exhausting.”

“You don’t think that’s selfish?”

Grace answers, “You can be a little selfish if you want, Dad. You just had a very real brush with death. It makes sense that you’re reassessing your priorities.”

Ash adds, “You’ve spent your whole life building your empire, providing for your family. Taking care of your wife. You only live once.”

It’s like Derek’s father is a different person. I’m sure his wife’s death and his own injuries fundamentally changed him, but this seems like a different man. More humble. More open. Warmer. I really hope it’s a turning point for this family.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but… did losing his wife help him put his own life, his priorities into perspective?” I ask.

“Good possibility,” Derek says, turning off onto our street.

“Can you two repair your relationship?” I ask.

“I don’t know. We haven’t ever had a real relationship from my perspective. He was a workaholic and a Shannon-oholic. End of.”

“I hope you can.”

“I have all I need right here with me right now,” Derek says.

Heat creeps up my cheeks.

He kisses my hand and holds onto it between us.

I spent almost an hour in the kitchen with Grace and Naomi, while the Steele men had their meeting. We cleaned up after breakfast and while the Steele men cooked a great meal they totally destroyed the kitchen in the process.

Derek told me he’ll be stepping up with helping with his father’s company. He said his clubs are running well with the current management and he doesn’t mind stepping up for a few months, helping to recruit some additional C-level team members to help lighten his dad’s load. Asher, who previously vowed to never work for the family business, is planning to step up as well.

Derek told me Grace is moving home with her father for a while to help run the household and take on her mother’s charitable work. Derek feels comfortable with the safety of where we live, but tells me he’s hiring extra security short-term while things get sorted with Elijah’s enemy and wants me to use personal security when I leave the house, until all this is over with.

I tried to ask questions, but he asked me to trust him, to not worry about any of that.

He scoops me up into his arms as we approach the front door of the house.

I laugh.

“Feels like a new beginning for us. Wanted to do this again. Crazy?”

“Batshit crazy,” I quip.

He laughs, pushes in the door code and crosses the threshold.

And I stare straight ahead. At my dream house. That Derek bought for me.

Tears spring up in my eyes.

“Bunny?” he asks.

I try to blink them away. But he’s seen them.

“It’s been a whirlwind. A whirlwind and a half. I think I’m just feeling it.”

He nods, seeming to understand, and carries me upstairs.

“Why are we going upstairs?” I ask.

“Why do you think?” he returns.

I giggle as I’m dropped on the bed. He pounces.

And he doesn’t fuck me. He makes love to me. Slow, unhurried, passionately. I cry when I come and he holds me tight, whispering that he loves me.

I’m cooking when Derek comes into the kitchen. His eyes light up.

“What is this delicious scent I’m smelling, wife?”

“Mongolian beef,” I reply.

He kisses me and looks into the pan. “What’s the occasion?” he asks with a big smile.

“Uh… dinner?”

“Dinner is the occasion?” he asks.

“We need to eat.”

He wraps both arms around me and backs me up against the counter and tugs on my ponytail.

“Thank you for making dinner for us, Chloe. I can’t wait to eat it.”

I feel like I’m beaming. And I feel a little silly for it, but the praise feels nice.

“How about if you set the table?” I suggest.

“You’ve got it, baby. My sister gave me a hard time for not hiring staff. I wanted to leave it up to you. If you want to hire someone to cook and clean, if you want to use my sister’s chef friend for our meals, whatever you want, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love this, you cooking for me, but don’t want you to feel like you have to do it just because you’re a female.”

“I don’t know when I might go back to work, I might like to take another few weeks off,” I say.

“Whatever you want,” he says, and it seems like he means it.

“I can handle some domestic things for now. When I decide, maybe we can have someone come in once a week for the deeper cleaning. But day to day, we’re both pretty tidy and I like to clean. I find it relaxing.”

He smiles. “Your decision. I don’t want live-in staff. Unless you decide differently when the baby comes, and you need help for that… you know. I mean, I’ll help as much as I can of course.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re really fixated on this today, aren’t you?”

He moistens his lips and looks like he’s weighing what he wants to say.

“I do eventually want kids, Derek, but let’s not jump the gun. I’m on the pill and-”

He squints a little.

“I don’t want to burst your bubble here,” I continue, “but let’s table it for at least a year.”

“Why?” he asks.

“We’re very… new.”

“You don’t know if you’re fully in this?” he asks.

I feel uncomfortable. “Derek, a whole lot has happened. How about if we just take one day at a time? If this were a traditional relationship, a year would probably pass before the conversation came up. You know?”

I can’t decipher his expression. He sets the dinner table.

“This is delicious,” he says for the third time.

“Thank you.” I reach to grab the wine bottle and top my glass off. “There’s more. You look like you’re ready for a second helping. Want me to grab it?”

“No, I’ll do it,” Derek says, giving me a strange look. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and does something on it, looking concerned as his eyes scan the screen.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

He looks conflicted.

“Something wrong?” I ask.

He blows out a breath slowly. His face is full of uncertainty.

“Is this about the baby stuff? If you’re looking for a declaration, if you’re asking me about the future, you have to be patient with me, please.”

“I’ve got all the patience in the world for you, wife,” he says, smiling, but it’s not touching his eyes. Derek’s smiles always touch his eyes.

“Hey,” I reach for his hand and squeeze. “Think about where we were just twenty-four hours ago. Relax, okay?” I’m not trying to sound condescending, but something is clearly on his mind. “Or is this about the security concerns. Have you found out more information?”

He shakes his head.

I lift my glass of wine and take a sip.

And the look on his face has me even more on edge.

“I’m here. I’m trying to navigate the strange waters of not just being married to a man who forced me to marry him, of being here through your grief after a whole lot of things including the loss of your mother and the danger around us with what happened at the cemetery yesterday and now feeling like this might be a reality, this marriage, a real one, because you’ve made me want to explore this with you. You turned things around in a big way, and that’s something good, right?”

“Right.”

“Can we take things one day at a time? Things don’t have to move at the speed of light, do they? Is this about the baby stuff you’ve been like a dog with a bone about?”

“Okay, here goes. I told you I’d always be honest with you, right?”

“Right…”

“Well, honestly I’m here fretting about you drinking wine, trying to decide how to tell you what I did with your birth control pills, looking up alcohol consumption in early pregnancy because I don’t want you upset with me, but also don’t want to put our baby at risk because of me not saying anything, so there. That’s why I’m fixated.”

“My birth control pills?”

“I swapped them. Had my pharmacist switch them out with packs of sugar pills.”

I’m like a jack-in-the-box, popping up to my feet abruptly. My stemmed glass beside my plate topples, making the rice, beef and vegetables swim in red wine.

I try to blink away the haze of shock as I process what he’s just said to me. Sugar pills. Sugar pills?

“When?”

“Just the other week.”

I turn away and storm to the kitchen where I know my purse is on the counter. I rifle through it to find the blister pack, doing the math in my head. I think I only started this package just over a week ago, but I’m having trouble thinking straight. I’m shaking, on the verge of what… crying, shouting? I don’t even know.

“Chloe?” He’s behind me, hand landing on the back of my neck, squeezing with affection.

I whirl around and glare at him. I’m so angry I’m shaking, I don’t even know how to form words right now. He’s staring at me with wide eyes, worried eyes. Like he’s realizing the ramifications of me finding out he did this.

“You…you…” I pull the package out of my bag and look. Eight pills in. I’m eight days into the package. This means I could be ovulating right now. We’ve had so much sex in the past twenty-four hours. So much sex. “Omigod.” I cover my mouth, the pills falling to the floor.

Derek’s eyes are wider. “Chloe,” he whispers, and drags his hand through his hair, looking flustered.

“You did that to me?” I ask, my voice coming out hoarse.

He flinches hard. “Please, let’s sit. Talk through this. I’ll explain.”

I back away.

He lunges and grabs me, clutching me tight to him, his mouth to my ear. “I love you. I love you so, so much. I want a family with you. I want you tied to me for the rest of your life and want you to love me. I wanted to give you a baby. I want you to give me a family. The kind of family I know we can make. A beautiful family.”

“Derek…” Tears stream down my cheeks.

He loosens his grip just enough to look at my face, to assess it.

“I love you,” he repeats, swiping tears away with his thumbs.

I’m shaking my head, bawling, crushed.

“Talk to me, baby,” he requests.

“You fucked up, Derek. You really fucked up here.”

He swallows.

“Do you have any idea how big of a breach of trust this is? All the things you’ve done to me, all the choices you took away, all the heinous things…”

He flinches again.

“Now you’ve gone and done this? Fucked with my choices like this? This is betrayal.”

“No,” he says gruffly and points at me. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You use a word like heinous when describing having a family with me? No.”

“Heinous,” I repeat. “Yes, this is heinous. You knew what you were doing last night, didn’t you? You were determined to fuck me last night hoping I’d get pregnant because I’m a week into fake pills which is perfect timing and… and… what? Knocking me up would magically make me agree to be your wife?”

“You are my wife.”

“Until yesterday afternoon, that was in name only. It was blackmail, plain and simple. I was married to you only because I was terrified of what you’d do, what you threatened to do.”

“Baby…”

“You fucked up, Derek. You can’t sweet-talk me into being okay with this. You can’t fuck me into submission here. You switched my birth control pills!” I can’t even fathom this. “You manipulative asshole.” I shove him. He doesn’t budge. “How can you think I’d be okay with this? How can you think I would ever get past this sort of deceit?”

“You’re angry with me, but baby, I’ll take care of you. I’ll be a good father. We might have made a person sometime within the last day and that beautiful little person is me and you and-”

“And maybe genetically predisposed to being a fucking psychopath!”

He jerks back like I’ve struck him across the face.

“How dare you? I can’t believe I let myself believe for even five minutes that giving in to you wasn’t insane.” I back away. “I can’t believe you. There’s zero hope for us.” I dash tears off my face with my sleeves. “Zero. I’m done, Derek. I’m so, so fucking done.” I pull the rings off my fingers and throw them at him. They bounce off him and fall to the floor.

He squats to pick them up and I grab my purse, find my phone on the other counter, and storm away. I look over my shoulder and he’s leaned against the wall, slowly sliding down, face full of remorse.

I walk out, not even shutting the door behind myself.

My phone is ringing, Derek is calling and I’m ignoring it. I’m pulling out of the Walgreens. I know Ken is following. I also know Ken saw what I bought because he followed me into the drug store.

I told him to go away, and he said, “You know there are security concerns. Can you please drive home? I’ll follow you back. Not comfortable out here with everything that happened at the funeral, Mrs. Steele.”

Where am I going? Where the fuck do I go?

I can’t believe I thought this might actually work. That I had any power here. A marriage with a crazy, unhinged psychopath.

As soon as my phone stops ringing, it starts up again.