15. Blythe
Disgusting. The word echoes in my head.
“I can explain.” I pull away, but Duncan doesn’t let go. He releases my skirt, and it falls back over my thighs, but he grabs my hand, locking our fingers together.
“Ainsley, what happened?” Duncan rumbles. “Why are you here?”
“Why am I home?” she explodes. “I came to meet your new girlfriend and instead find you’re assaulting my best friend!”
“It’s not—” I begin.
“Blythe is my wife,” Duncan cuts me off.
“Your what?” Ainsley turns to me, confusion and betrayal in her expression. “You two are married?” Her gaze flicks down to my left hand and her eyes go round as she sees my wedding ring and the huge diamond engagement ring.
“Yes,” I say with pathetic inadequacy.
“You got married without me?” Shaking her head in disbelief, her face crumples. “You’re my dad and my best friend, and you didn’t even tell me.”
My heart wrenches. Ainsley adopted me when I had no one, and was struggling at university. I owe her everything.
“You said you were in Scotland, and didn’t have a job, and I didn’t twig.” She laughs mirthlessly. “I’m an idiot. You must have had fun laughing at how stupid I am.”
“It wasn’t like that,” I insist. “We were worried about what you’d say.”
Ainsley’s expression darkens back to rage as she turns back to her dad. “To think I wanted to meet your girlfriend.” And despite her anger, I can hear how upset she is that we’ve kept this from her. “When did you get married? Actually, don’t answer that.”
I don’t respond, because the fact we got married so quickly is the worst part. We’ve been keeping this from her for a month. But Duncan murmurs the date of our wedding and Ainsley’s mouth falls open in shock as she looks at me.
“You’ve been sneaking around behind my back all this time.” Blood drains from her face. “Were you at it while you stayed with me?”
“It happened after you left.” Oh god this is a mess. “Not before, I promise.” I’m leaden. I feel awful. I want to sink into the floor. Duncan’s hand, warm and strong over mine, is the only thing preventing me.
“You screwed my dad… Is this for his money?”
“No.” The accusation spurs me into a passionate denial. I can’t let that stand. Money is the last thing my marriage is about, but I don’t think Ainsley will like that I had a sex deal with her father.
“Did you seduce?—?”
“I suggest you stop right there before you say something rude about my wife,” Duncan interrupts her. His voice reminds me more clearly that he’s my older mafia boss husband who has a daughter my age. It’s deep and authoritative in a way that tells me I’m safe. I’m protected. He’ll always be on my side, and he’s the big bad.
“You lied to me!” The hurt is in every word she hurls at us.
Ainsley goes to run away, but Duncan stops her with a short, “Ainsley.”
The guilt that has been clawing at my insides since the beginning breaks through and tears prickle behind my eyes.
“I’m going to make us tea, and then we’re going to talk this through like adults in the lounge.”
He’s still a dad, I realise as Ainsley trails us into the kitchen. The contrast of the dark of night outside and the white light from the ceiling spots Duncan flicks on is almost painful to my eyes.
“Sit.” He instructs a few tense minutes of tea making later, nodding towards the sofa.
“I’m not a dog, Dad,” Ainsley grumbles, but does as he says. Duncan ignores her and takes the place next to her on the three-seater.
I go towards the single chair, but Duncan catches my eye and shakes his head, dipping his gaze towards the place on the other side of Ainsley.
And clearly, I’m still his little housewife, because I do as he commands. Ainsley regards us, half confused, half suspicious.
“Why are you home?” Duncan asks as he pushes a cup of tea towards Ainsley and places a plate of chocolate biscuits on the low table.
“Aren’t we talking about how you ended up marrying my best friend?” she snips back at him.
“Aye, but first why are you here?”
“I…” Ainsley’s voice breaks and she lunges for her tea. Duncan meets my gaze over her head, and there’s nothing but compassion and worry and love there. He cares about his daughter deeply.
“What happened?” I ask gently. “Your texts said you were fine?”
“Your texts said you were fine too,” Ainsley points out belligerently through a mouthful of sweet milky tea. “You didn’t mention you were married!”
I flush.
“You didn’t like mainland Europe?” Duncan asks mildly.
“The food is funny,” Ainsley mutters, grabbing up a chocolate-covered biscuit and crunching it noisily. “This is the first proper cup of tea I’ve had in a month.”
“Uhuh.” Duncan takes a sip of his tea and waits.
“I just…” Ainsley hesitates, then the floodgate opens. “I didn’t enjoy it like I thought I would. I couldn’t understand the language, no one could understand my accent. I nearly got arrested over a comment supporting my gay friend back home. The accommodation was ridiculous.” She pouts and continues with a laundry list of genuine and imaginary complaints.
“I was lonely,” she confesses eventually, putting down her tea and placing her hands in her lap. Duncan takes one, holding it in his big paw. “I missed you, Blythe, and now I find you’ve been shacking up and not thinking of me at all.”
“We thought of you,” I assure her, taking her other hand and the three of us are connected.
“But not while actually shacking up,” Duncan adds dryly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Or me?” I ask. “I’d have been there to listen.”
Ainsley shrugs. “You both thought I was going on the adventure of a lifetime. I didn’t want to be the pathetic girl who wasn’t enjoying the trip I’d bigged up so much.”
“I wouldn’t have thought that, I promise,” I tell her.
Duncan and I meet eyes over Ainsley, and the flare of connection is different to our usual sexual frisson. It’s the shared knowledge of two people who both love another person, as well as each other. This is parental love, and I know somehow, deep inside of me, that we’ll do this again and again. It won’t necessarily be with Ainsley, but with our own children who we support through all the lonely trials of life.
That strengthens me.
“Do you still want to go travelling?” Duncan asks.
Ainsley tilts her head and pauses. “Yes.”
“Okay. I’m going to call an old friend who lives in America. You can visit him. He’ll take care of you. Make sure you have a good time until you’ve found your feet with travelling and are ready to go solo.”
“Really?” Ainsley blinks. “You’re not cross?”
“I’m not cross with you.”
He’s a great dad. I knew it, of course, but with the tiny life growing inside of me the certainty takes on a new importance. He’s going to be loving and tender and fiercely protective of our babies.
“How can I be, when you’re going to be very understanding of your new step-mother.” Duncan’s smile is half wry amusement, half hope, and a bubble of hope lifts me.
“Oh god.” Ainsley cringes.
“And your half-siblings,” he adds.
“You’re really serious about this?” Ainsley turns to me, doubt in expression. “You lied to me.”
“I’m sorry about the lying.” I squeeze my best friend’s hand. “It was stupid. But I love Duncan, and I was scared you’d react badly.”
Her eyes widen for a split second at me calling her dad by his first name. “Well… I guess I know now and…” She shakes her head in confusion. “I don’t get it, but if this is what you want…”
“We’re very serious about the siblings,” Duncan adds, deadpan.
“Oh no. Make it stop.” But Ainsley is laughing, and the tension in my chest eases. “I don’t need to hear any of the details. If you’re happy?—”
“We are.” And it’s easy to talk for both of us, because it’s true. I’m utterly secure in my husband’s affection now.
Duncan catches my eye above Ainsley’s head, and his expression has softened with the emotions he’s kept hidden, but have bled out around the edges over the last month. Now he’s told me, I can see all the ways he showed his feelings. With orgasms, yes, but in other ways too.
I can’t wait to go back to Lochside with all three of us together. And in nine months’ time, with our baby too.
“I love you,” he mouths.
“Just because I’m not mad with you anymore, doesn’t mean you can start smooching in front of me.” Ainsley glances between us. “Cut that out, you two.”
Duncan grins. “Not a chance.”