Chapter Don’t Be Jealous, Paige-bear
DON’T BE JEALOUS, PAIGE-BEAR
PAIGE
The giggling stopped me cold at the front door.
It felt wrong.
My hand froze on the doorknob of my apartment, keys dangling from fingers. It was barely past seven. I had left work early for once, so I could surprise Jack with his favorite takeout and maybe, just maybe, reclaim a shred of the marriage I had been watching crumble for months.
The giggling came again. It was high-pitched and feminine. And most definitely not from the television.
It was Lily’s nap-time, so Jack wouldn’t play something on his phone so loudly as to wake her up.
My heart hammered against my ribs, and perspiration coated my temples. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
The apartment was dark except for the hallway light I had left on that morning. Lily’s baby monitor sat on the console table, its green light steady. It was small and cozy with walls covered in photo frames of our wedding, my pregnancy and Lily’s newborn baby-pictures.
The sight of them always warmed my heart after a tiring workday, even though I knew Derek tried to lower my workload, making me do admin tasks ever since I came back from maternity leave. But I couldn’t muster up the courage to relax my shoulders.
I couldn’t ignore the feeling of something being wrong.
I moved toward our bedroom on autopilot, each step feeling like I was wading through concrete. My ears started ringing as a part of me screamed to turn around, to grab Lily and leave, to preserve whatever ignorance I had left.
But I couldn’t stop. I had to know.
I need to know. Need to see it with my own eyes.
The door was cracked open.
And there they were.
My husband. The bed I had made that morning before rushing to work. But he was sharing our marital bed with a woman who seemed familiar.
The sight of them felt like a slap in the face.
Long limbs and perfect skin, with her head thrown back in a laugh that made my stomach lurch. Jack’s hands were on her slender waist, his mouth—the one that had kissed my cheek that morning after breakfast—on her neck. The sheets I had washed just three days ago were tangled around their bodies.
For one whole second, the world went completely silent.
Is it a prank? Is there a crew with cameras and crew in our small apartment? Is it one of weird Derek’s pranks? Like the time he poured blue dye in my conditioner when we were kids and I was called Smurf for two entire months.
But then Jack looked up.
His face drained of color so fast that I was going to puke.
“Paige. Shit! This isn’t—”
“Don’t,” I said with deadly calm. My voice felt colder than I knew I was capable of. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
The woman scrambled for the sheets, her eyes widening with guilt or fear.
Why? How could he?
I… we were together for decades. Since childhood and now he—
Lily. I had to get Lily out of there.
I turned on my heel and walked straight to Lily’s nursery, my body moving on pure instinct while my brain struggled to process the nuclear bomb that had just detonated my life.
My hurried steps slowed when I saw my daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib, her tiny chest rising and falling in that perfect rhythm that usually soothed me. But now it shattered me.
She had no idea her father was a lying, cheating bastard. That her family had just imploded. That everything I had been working so hard to build for her—for us—was crumbling to ash.
“Paige, wait. Let me explain—” Jack’s voice came from behind me, and I heard him struggling into clothes.
I didn’t turn around. I grabbed the diaper bag from the changing table and started throwing things in. Diapers, wipes, formula. Her favorite blanket. My movements were jerky and frantic, but I forced myself to focus.
Lily needed bottles. Changes of clothes. Her pacifier.
I can’t afford a crashout right now. I can have it later.
“It’s not what you think—”
“Oh, really?” I spun to face him, and let out a bitter laugh. “Because I just found you screwing another woman in our bed while our daughter—our one-year-old daughter—slept twenty feet away. Please, Jack, enlighten me on what I am getting wrong.”
I wanted to punch him. Slap him. Tell me it was some stupid prank—
But he had the audacity to look wounded. His hair was a mess, his shirt was buttoned wrong, and there were lipstick stains on his collar that made me want to scream. I had been ignoring the different smell of perfume in his laundry, telling myself I was paranoid.
“You have been distant. So fucking cold! Ever since Lily was born, you have barely looked at me, and I’ve been craving—”
I laughed, tears threatening to burst through my eyes. “So this is my fault?”
My voice rose dangerously close to waking Lily, and I forced myself to breathe. In. Out.
Don’t let him see you break. Not yet.
“I’ve been distant because I’m exhausted, Jack! Because I’m working full-time and taking care of our daughter while you stay late at the office doing God knows what!”
I knew I didn’t need to explain to him why I was being distant. That I was feeling like shit in my body after giving birth and working more hours so I could give my daughter the childhood I never had. Spoil her with Disneyland vacations and give her a car on her sixteenth birthday.
“Babe—”
“Don’t call me that!” I zipped the diaper bag with trembling fingers and lifted Lilly, who stirred but didn’t wake. “Don’t call me anything. We are done.”
The world felt small in that tiny room, which we both had painted with happy smiles. I remember kissing him and thanking the universe for having such a good husband and friend.
Now I wish I could never see his face again.
“What do you mean we are done?” He said, scoffing and shoving his hands in his pants, which were unzipped. Strange. I had known him for years and yet had never seen him make that face before. At least not in front of me. What else didn’t I know about him?
“You can’t just leave. Where are you even going to go?”
I didn’t answer. Mostly because I didn’t know.
My parents were halfway around the world on their retirement cruise. My sister was in Texas with a new baby of her own.
I pushed past him, heading for the door. He grabbed my arm, and I whirled on him with such anger that he stepped back.
“Touch me again and I swear to God, Jack, I will make you regret it.”
He raised his hands in surrender, but his expression was shifting from shock to anger to something different. Did I really know this man?
“Fine. Leave me for all you care! But don’t come crying back when you realize you have nowhere to go. You need me, Paige. Who will look after Lily?”
The words hit like a slap, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch.
“Anyone but you,” I snapped, walking out of the apartment with nothing but my daughter in my arms and her bag without looking back.
The tears didn’t start until I was in my car.
I sat in the parking garage, Lily’s carrier secured in the back seat, and let myself fall apart for exactly two minutes.
Yes, I put the timer on.
I silently sobbed until the anger and sadness melted away into the disappointment of reality. I couldn’t cry forever. I have to provide shelter and food for my baby.
So I wiped my face with the back of my hand, started the engine, and drove.
I had no destination in mind. Just away. Away from Jack and his lies and the wreckage of everything I had thought my life would be. The city lights blurred past my windshield, and I blinked hard to clear my vision.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder. Jack, probably. More excuses or accusations or whatever toxic thing he had decided to throw at me next. I ignored it.
I had only five percent battery left, and I hadn’t brought my phone charger with me from the office. The one at home was on the nightstand—home?
Is it even my home now?
It wasn’t until I pulled up to the familiar high-rise that I realized where my subconscious had been steering me all along.
Derek’s building. His place.
Instead of a hotel.
I stared up at the sleek glass tower, my hands still gripping the steering wheel hard enough to hurt.
This is insane.
Derek was my boss.
Yes, we had been friends back when we were kids running wild through the neighborhood, but that was a lifetime ago. Now he was Mr. Peterson. A successful attorney, bachelor, and I was his assistant who organized his dry cleaning and scheduled his revolving door of dates.
Speaking of which, he had a date that night. I had put it on his calendar myself that morning, teasing him about which Michelin-star restaurant I should book.
I remembered his smug smile when he leaned over to flick my forehead. “Don’t be jealous, Paige-bear. I’d take you to dinner instead, if you ask me.”
I had stuck my tongue out at him in response. I had hated the word Paige-bear ever since we were kids, so he never stopped calling me that.
But he had dinner at eight with a woman named Alessandra. A supermodel.
I should leave. Maybe call Sean—no, he was traveling with his girlfriend Chelsea.
It’s okay. I will find a hotel. Figure this out on my own like a rational adult.
But the thought of checking into some hotel room with Lily, of being alone with the crushing weight of what had just happened, made my chest tighten until I couldn’t breathe. And underneath all the hurt and anger and humiliation, there was hope.
Maybe Derek would understand. Maybe he would know what to do.
He had always helped me and been there whenever I needed him. Like the time my high school crush broke my heart, how he had helped me study and brought me snacks, when I was broke and needed a job. Or the time when I broke my water, took me to the hospital and held my hand during my labor.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I got out of the car and unstrapped Lily from her carrier.
She barely stirred, her little body heavy with sleep as I settled her against my chest. Grabbing the diaper bag and the carrier in the other hand, I headed for the entrance, my heels clicking against the concrete in a rhythm, making my heart pound harder.
The doorman recognized me from the countless times I had dropped off documents or picked up keys for Derek. He smiled and waved me through without question, and then I was in the elevator, watching the floor numbers climb higher and higher until I reached the penthouse.
That was when the panic really set in.
I stood frozen, staring at Derek’s private entrance. My finger hovered over the doorbell.
What am I doing? This is my boss.
My childhood friend, yes, but somewhere along the way—between college, career and my wedding to Jack—we had lost that easy familiarity. Now he was just my boss. The man whose coffee I fetched, whose meetings I scheduled and whose perfectly pressed suits I picked up from the dry cleaner.
And I was about to show up at his door at eight o’clock on a Friday night, mascara streaking down my face, with a baby on my hip and nowhere else to go.
Lily whimpered, and the sound shattered my overthinking. I pressed the bell instantly regretting the decision.
The seconds stretched, and I almost turned back. Almost stabbed the lobby button and fled back to my car. But then footsteps approached from inside, and the door swung open.
Derek stood there, and for a moment, neither of us moved.
He had clearly just gotten out of the shower.
His dark hair was damp and disheveled, water still beading at his temples.
He was wearing gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips.
His chest was bare, all lean muscle and golden skin, and I might have found it distracting if I weren’t currently falling apart.
His blue eyes, the same eyes that had watched me climb trees and scrape my knees when we were kids, went wide with shock.
“Paige?”