Chapter 10
10
Conrad Strauss
D esperate and on edge.
Those are the two feelings that have been running rampant through my body since I got the voicemail from my nana three days ago. She’s coming to visit in a month, and while I’m thrilled to get to see her for the first time in years, I’m also slightly panicking because I haven’t exactly been honest with her.
Pulling into Whit’s driveway, I park beside his truck, my heart in my throat as I climb out. I’m about to walk into a situation where I have no clue how Whit’s going to respond. What I’m about to propose is not on par for us, but I don’t know what else to do.
Before I even have a chance to knock, the front door is pulled open, and my heart thumps as I lay eyes on Whit. Hands stuffed into the pockets of my jeans, I tip my chin at him by way of greeting, and he steps to the side, waving me in.
“Come on in.”
As I step through the threshold to my ex-husband’s house, it hits me square in the chest that this is the first time I’ve ever been here. His scent surrounds me as he closes the door behind me, and it makes my throat tight.
“I just made a fresh batch of lemonade,” he murmurs, coming around in front of me. “Would you like some?”
Clearing my throat, I say, “Sure. Thank you.”
The silence that descends upon us as he walks into the kitchen and pours us both a drink is stifling. Handing me one of the glasses, he nods to the side. “We can go sit outside if you want.”
“Nice house you’ve got,” I murmur as we meander across the hardwood floor toward the back sliding glass door.
“Thank you.”
We sit down, and I’m hit with the realization that I have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to start this conversation. No version of this as it plays in my mind sounds right. Each version sounds nuttier than the rest.
After several long moments where neither of us says a word, Whit sets his glass on the table between us, glancing my way. “So, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.”
That’s a lie.
Whit arches a brow behind his thick frames, hands clasped in his lap. “Okay, then why did you need to come over here?”
Just fucking spit it out, Conrad. Get it over with.
“Nana is coming to town,” I decide to start with.
Eyes lighting up at that, his lips curve up. “Is she? That’s exciting. How’s she doing these days?”
“She’s fine, I think.”
A puzzled expression morphs his face. “You think?”
“Well, we don’t talk much, but she seems fine.”
“Conrad.”
“What?”
“She is your nana,” he goes on. “You need to make an effort to keep in touch with her. You’re all she has left.”
I didn’t come here to get scolded. Biting down on my molars, I mutter, “I’m aware. Thank you.”
“When does she get here?” he asks.
“Next month.”
“How long is she staying?”
“I’m not sure.”
His brows knit. “You didn’t ask?”
“No.”
“Conrad.”
“She said she purchased a one-way ticket, and she’ll buy her return flight once she’s here,” I explain, feeling like I’m a kid in trouble. “Claims it’s cheaper that way, but that she’s going to stay at least a few weeks.”
“Well, I’d love to see her,” he says, before adding, “If that’s okay.”
I huff out a breath. “Well, funny you should say that...”
“Why is that funny?”
Here goes nothing.
“So, try not to freak out.”
Whit’s face falls. “Conrad, what did you do?”
This is going to be bad. He’s going to be pissed.
“I may have never mentioned that you and I had gotten a divorce.”
Whit goes stock still, face expressionless. He doesn’t say anything for a whole, painful minute.
Then two.
Three.
Finally, he grits out, “Excuse me?”
“I never told her we?—”
Holding up a hand, he says, “I heard you. What the hell do you mean you never told her? How is that possible? We got divorced nearly four years ago!” Standing up, he starts pacing in front of me. “How the hell has it not managed to come up in all these years?”
“Well, we really only talk on the phone a couple times a year, and?—”
He cuts me off again. “You only talk to your nana a couple times a year?” He stops pacing, eyes narrow as he glowers at me. “What the hell is wrong with you? Call your nana more!”
“Okay, Mom,” I deadpan, shifting in my seat.
Scowl deepening, he points a finger at me. “Now is not the time to try to be funny. Explain yourself right now.”
“I will if you quit fucking interrupting me.”
Whit scoffs but says nothing.
“As I was saying,” I go on. “We only talk a couple times a year, and whenever we did, I just said you were at work or already in bed.”
Folding his arms over his chest, he stares at me, pinched brows and his lips turned down into a frown. “And she believed that?”
“Yes.” I shrug. “Or if she didn’t, she never said anything to me.”
The pacing begins again. Steps short and quick. Hands threading through his hair the way he always does when he’s anxious or overwhelmed.
“Why, Conrad?” he asks, coming to a stop in front of me again. “Why, on God’s green earth, did you not tell her we got a divorce? Why ?”
I clench my jaw, nostrils flaring as I take harsh breaths. “With the death of my parents happening barely a year before our divorce, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her.” My throat tightens, the tip of my nose stinging with the memory of all this coming up. “She was grieving the loss of her son and daughter-in-law, and she loves you, Whit. You know between you and I, you’re her favorite.”
He rolls his eyes, but I don’t miss the twitch of his lips.
“I couldn’t do that to her. So, I kept it to myself, and then as time went on, I just…couldn’t. I couldn’t admit to her that I lost you.”
Whit’s eyes snap to mine at the confession I didn’t mean to let out. Based on the way his eyes widen, I’d say he’s as surprised to hear it as I am. He drops down into his seat again, grabbing his glass of lemonade, and throwing it back like it’s a double shot of whiskey.
“Conrad, you have to tell her.” The words are spoken barely above a whisper.
“Whit… please .” His name comes out strained, my desperation clear as day as it clutches at my chest.
His gaze snaps up to meet mine. “Please what? You have to tell her, Conrad. You cannot keep up this charade for the rest of her life. It’s a lie, and she deserves to know the truth. What are you planning to do when she gets here, and she can clearly see I don’t live at the ranch?”
Whit and I stare at each other a moment. A silent stand-off, if you will. I don’t want to say what I’m about to say, but I have no choice. There is no other choice.
Okay, there is a choice. I could tell her, but I’m not doing that. It’ll break her heart.
“Whit, please,” I repeat.
“Please what, Conrad?! I don’t understand why you keep saying please!”
My heart pounds rapidly behind my ribs. It’s as erratic as I feel. “I need you to pretend that we’re still married,” I say quietly. “At least while she’s here.”
Whit’s jaw drops open as he gapes at me. Complete disbelief plastered on his face. “You have lost your damn mind.”
Oh, I’ve definitely lost my mind, but not for the reasons you think.
“It will only be temporary, Whit. Please.”
“Absolutely not,” he spits out. “You have certifiably lost your ever-loving mind if you think for even one second I would do anything of the sort. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Whit,” I grit out, needing him to just fucking listen. “I will tell her the truth, but I’m not doing it before she comes or while she’s here.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s already mentioned how excited she is to see you!” I bark. “I cannot drop this bomb on her when she’s so excited! I can’t do that to her.”
“Yes, you can,” he growls, standing up again. “And you will. I’m not being your fake husband so you can keep up this lie you’ve buried yourself in. God, this is so typical, Conrad. So fucking typical for you.”
My brows dip. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you’re incapable of communicating! We got divorced four years ago, Conrad. Four! And in those four years, you’ve lied to her! Because telling her the truth would be too uncomfortable for you . It would require some emotional intelligence, some compassion. Two things you’re incapable of giving.”
His words hit me right in the gut like a sucker punch. “That is not true.”
“Oh, yes, it is.”
“Whit, I never ask you for anything,” I start, before promptly getting cut off again .
“As you shouldn’t,” he snaps. “We are no longer married, we aren’t even really friends, so what would you even need to ask me for?”
“This one favor.”
“You act like you’re asking to borrow a cup of flour. You’re asking me to pretend to still be married to you, and what? Live in your house with the both of you? Absolutely not.”
“Please, Whit.” The vein in my neck throbs as my heart beats so fast it feels like I can’t catch my breath. “I will do anything. Please. It will be a few weeks. You’ll get to see her, she’ll be so happy, and then when she goes back home, I’ll tell her. Please .”
His jaw flexes as he watches me, arms folded over his chest. He doesn’t say anything. The silence is deafening.
“Will you at least think about it? Take some time, and really think it over.”
“Conrad, this is absurd.” He says it, but his eyes soften as he looks over at me, expression shifting. Something that has the tension in my shoulders easing a bit.
“I’m aware.”
Sighing heavily, he mutters, “I will think about it, but I’m not making any promises. I don’t like this.”
“Deal,” I blurt out. “If, after you’ve taken some time to truly consider it, you still say no, I will respect that, but please, Whit, I would really appreciate it.”
He flattens his lips, brows furrowed. “Fine, I’ll think about it.”
The weight of a thousand pounds is lifted off my chest, allowing me to breathe deeply for the first time in days. “Thank you.”
“You can leave now,” is all he says.
“What about my lemonade?”
He scowls at me. “Goodbye, Conrad.”
As I leave, I feel lighter, but it very well could be temporary. Now, I just have to hope and pray that Whit will see it from my side, and that his soft spot for my nana is still strong enough. By the time I get back to the ranch, I’m not sure who I need to believe the lie that we’re still married more… my nana or Whit.