CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
An hour later, I sat in my driveway, seething at the SUV parked in front of the house.
Seth wasn’t supposed to be back until Friday night, so what the hell was he doing here?
I contemplated putting the car in reverse and just driving until I ran out of gas, but the minute I’d pulled into the driveway, the curtains at the front window shifted slightly. And something about that seemingly insignificant gesture made me want to scream until my lungs gave out.
Instead, I pulled out my phone and texted Declan to let him know I was home, and thanked him for the mini rainforest he had delivered to my class this morning to replace the lily we’d accidentally murdered during our classroom tryst. The kids were so excited about the tiny potted plants and the prospect of an indoor garden that I had to alter my lesson plan to include all their plant-related questions. And there were many.
Declan was currently ensconced in a meeting with his Japanese business associates, so I couldn’t call him to soothe the unease quickly spreading along my diaphragm. But oh, how I needed to hear his voice. It was like an avalanche was building inside me, and I didn’t know why.
I waited a few minutes more inside the car, working through my breathing exercises to find that hollow, desolate place I’d been living in for months before I’d met Declan. And once the mask had carefully slipped into place, I slid out of the vehicle and slowly made my way toward the front door.
Upon entering the house, the first thing I noticed was the low music that was coming from somewhere upstairs. But what was even more shocking was the bitter argument rising from the kitchen.
The voices—which clearly belonged to Seth and Lacey—sounded equally pissed, as the pair shouted back and forth, neither one refusing to back down.
As quietly as I could, I kicked my shoes off and dropped my work bag next to the table in the entryway. However, I’d forgotten about the squeaky sensory toys I’d bought for my students earlier that evening, and the quiet squeak as my bag hit the floor was enough to silence the argument.
Damn it.
“Mellie, is that you?” Seth called.
I rolled eyes at the nickname I despised with all my soul—a name I told him repeatedly that I hated, by the way—and contemplated the merits of simply turning around and heading back to the car.
“Melodie?” he called again, and that snapped me back to reality.
“Yeah, it’s me,” I called back, though I didn’t want to.
Footsteps began to approach, then abruptly stopped when Lacey whisper-shouted—presumably at Seth, “Have you told her yet?”
“I… haven’t found the time,” Seth replied in equally hushed tones.
“She needs to know.”
“I know. Just... not yet.”
“Then when?” Lacey demanded. “You need to tell her. Because I refuse to keep this a secret. Either you tell her, or I will.”
“Don’t you fucking dare tell me how to handle my wife,” Seth hissed, his tone harsh.
Handle me? What in the absolute hell was going on? I’d never heard Seth talk to her like that. Of course, I didn’t care enough to get involved, but it did strike me as odd. He was usually bending over backwards to please her. So, what changed?
“Then handle her!” Lacey spat, her tone venomous. “Because whether you like it or not, this isn’t going away anytime soon. She’ll find out, eventually. Better now than later.”
Deciding that I’d heard enough—their lover’s quarrel was none of my concern—I made my way down the hallway to my bedroom and was promptly intercepted by a haggard-looking Seth.
He hadn’t undressed yet, and his suit jacket looked rumpled, as though he’d been sleeping in it night after night, even though the dark circles under his eyes contradicted the sleeping theory.
I eyed him carefully, looking exhausted and unkempt, and like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. And I realized, for possibly the hundredth or so time in the last few months, that I felt precisely nothing for him. Not even pity.
“Seth,” I greeted, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster—of which there was absolutely none.
His eyes dropped to the small overnight bag clutched in my hand. The bag I’d brought with me to Declan’s, but had forgotten to take out of the car last night when I got home.
“Are you… going somewhere?” Seth asked, his tone uncertain.
“No.”
“Then what’s with the bag?”
“It’s just a bag, Seth.”
“Right.” His brows drew together in a frown. “Listen, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure, how does tomorrow sound? It’s been a long day, and I’m exhausted.”
I made my way past him to my room and was surprised to see he’d followed me.
“Do you mind?” I asked.
He didn’t respond, so I unlocked my door and dumped the bag on the inside, turned, then made my way back down the hall to collect the work bag that I’d foolishly left in the entryway.
If I were being honest, I didn’t need to get the bag. I just needed to get away from Seth, but he kept following me.
I sighed.
“What is it, Seth?” I asked, whirling to face him.
We were standing right next to the staircase, and movement at the top quickly caught my eye.
I had no doubt it was Lacey listening in, which was exactly what I was trying to avoid.
I didn’t want to talk to Seth. I especially didn’t want to talk to him while his mistress was hovering about in hearing distance.
It felt like they were ganging up on me.
Irrational, I know. But that was how I felt, goddammit.
Seth let out an exhausted breath. “Look, Mellie. This is important. Can we talk now?”
“If I say no, would it matter?”
His shoulders slumped. “Look, this isn’t easy for me. I just want us to sit and have a conversation. That’s all I’m asking. I miss talking to you, and I really need to talk to someone about this.”
“And it can’t wait until tomorrow?” I pressed.
“It can,” he sighed again, running a hand through his greasy hair. “I just don’t think I should let this drag out for much longer.”
My stomach flipped.
Was he about to ask for a divorce?
My heart leaped at the thought, and a joy bubbled up inside me.
Sure, it would derail my plans a little.
I’d wanted to get my living and health insurance situations settled before I told him I wanted out.
But better for him to bring it up. That way, he felt in control.
Because if there was anything I knew about Seth, it was that he did not like giving up control.
His eyes dropped to the tiny circular band-aid on the inside of my elbow, and he grabbed my arm and turned it to face him.
“What is this? Are you hurt?” he asked, his tone sounding genuinely concerned. And that, more than anything, frightened me.
Seth was never concerned about me. It wasn’t in his nature. Heck, he hadn’t even noticed when I’d injured my back a year ago and was hobbling around the house in pain. So what the hell was this about?
Shadows moved at the top of the stairs, and I yanked free of his hold.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “This is just from my blood work today.”
“Really? Well, what did your doctor say?”
“Really, Seth? Can we just… not?” I snapped, irritation bleeding into my tone. “Doc says I’m fine. What did you need to talk about?”
He let out a slow breath. “Look, I’m sorry. This wasn’t a part of the plan when we decided to open our marriage, but things change, and I need you with me on this. Just like we’ve always done everything. Together.”
I listened to his words carefully. Or rather, I listened to his carefully selected words. ‘We decided to open our marriage’. ‘Need you with me on this’. And my personal favorite, ‘Just like we’ve always done everything. Together’.
Remember that thing I said about men and their never-ending supply of audacity?
He was going to stand here and gaslight me, right to my face?
Something inside me snapped, shaking my tongue loose.
“Actually, no,” I returned, my tone clipped. “You decided on all of those things and goaded me into going alone with the threat of divorce looming over my head.”
His expression hardened.
Now that was the Seth I’d come to know and loathe over the last few months.
He tried to grab my arm again, but I stepped out of his reach.
“What do you have to say to me, Seth?” I demanded.
“Well, wife,” he spat the word as though it were a curse.
“I’m gonna need you to start taking care of Lacey.
She’s in a fragile and vulnerable state right now, and her health is the most important thing.
I won’t be around as often as I need to be.
So, as my wife, I’ll expect you to step up and help me out on this.
Also, I’m going to add her to my health coverage as well, so some of your benefits may be reduced depending on how the insurance company decides to split it—”
Anger roared to life inside me, drowning out his words, and the dislike I’d been harboring for my lawfully wedded husband grew in triplicate. It was full-blown hatred now, and no part of me regretted feeling the way I did.
Not only had he brought his mistress into our marital home, but he gave away the one space he’d promised I could have to myself.
A space she only used to store her clothes and shoes, by the way.
Now he was demanding I take care of her because she was fucking fragile?
Not to mention the toppings on this shit sandwich.
He was going to reduce my health benefits.
The one thing I actually stuck around in this godforsaken circus for.
I’d show him fragile.
A bomb could be fragile, and I was itching to go off.
“No,” I said, cutting off his nonsensical ramblings.
He was still talking somehow, but I’d zoned out and missed all of it.
Fuck it. I didn’t care what he had to say.
I had enough of his bullshit. “No!” I repeated, louder this time, so the shuffling shadows at the top of the stairs could hear me.
“I’m not doing a damn thing for you or your girlfriend.
Matter of fact, I don’t care if she’s sick.
I don’t care if she lives or dies. I don’t care!
It was one thing for you to demand an open marriage, but moving in your mistress, Seth?
And now you’re demanding I be her part-time caregiver?
Have you lost your damn mind? I am a person with feelings and boundaries.
And while I feel next to nothing for you, I feel absolutely nothing for her.
I will not debase myself to soothe your ego.
You brought her here. She’s your problem, not mine.
I’ve tried my damnedest to avoid dealing with the pair of you, but every turn I make, one of you is there to tap dance across my very last nerve, and I am done!
So if you have any brain cells left to rub together, you might want to get the fuck out of my face before I make this happy little family life that you’re trying to sell to your work colleagues way harder than it needs to be. ”
Seth stared at me in shock, his eyes hard and his mouth hanging open.
A second passed, then two more, and the dancing shadows at the top of the stairs grew corporeal as footsteps padded away.
Seth began to speak, but his phone ringing somewhere in the house—presumably his study—stole his attention.
He pointed a menacing finger at me. “This conversation isn’t over.”
Then he turned and headed down the hall to his study.