Chapter 15 Lynley
Lynley
My stomach aches. It’s an acidic pain that slowly leaks into my chest, making every breath hurt. I ease the car into the driveway, my bumper almost touching Caroline’s, ensuring she won’t be able to make a quick getaway.
There is no good reason for her to be here.
She and Christopher have always been friendly as in-laws, but they aren’t friends.
They don’t go out of their way to spend time together or even interact, and yet that suspicion from earlier niggles around like a parasite in my bloodstream.
Every instinct I have screams a warning, telling me that nothing good is going to come from walking into that house.
Knowing my husband is cheating on me, indiscriminately and often, is one thing, but knowing my sister might have betrayed me like that?
Urgency pushes at me, but I can’t rush this. I need to think every step through. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my phone is in my hand and ringing. Grafton picks up almost immediately, his deep tone filling my ear with warmth and concern. “Lynne? What’s wrong?”
My teeth clamp down on my bottom lip. “I… You know what? It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have called. Don’t worry about it.”
He lets out a low hum of disbelief. “What’s wrong?” he repeats, so firmly that I shudder. My stomach clenches uncomfortably, lost between the reassurance of hearing his voice and the dread filling me at the thought of what I might find inside my house.
“Lynley?” It’s a rough demand for attention, and my fingers tighten around the phone.
“Oh, u-um…I went home. To my home, not my mother’s.” I’m stammering like a fool, and I rub a hand over my face, embarrassment heating my cheeks.
There’s a low pause. “Why?”
“I don’t know…” My voice sounds small, and I hate it.
“I’m not sure what I wanted by coming here, but now…
” I trail off, lowering my hand and blinking up at the house.
We’ve lived here less than a year, but it’s the house where our children lay their heads.
The walls that hold their laughter and their happiness.
It’s the place that should have been safe—for them and for me.
“Lynne…” There’s a wealth of warning in the one word that lifts every tiny little hair on my body up.
“My sister is here,” I blurt.
He doesn’t say anything for so long that I check to make sure we’re still connected. “Your sister?”
“And so is he.” There’s a sneer of contempt on my face. I don’t bother trying to wipe it away. He’s not my husband anymore, and he no longer matters to me, especially if he’s doing what I suspect. “I’m going to go in.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Grafton immediately argues.
I’m already shaking my head, even though he can’t see it. “I need to know for sure.”
He curses. “You shouldn’t be doing this alone, Lynne.”
I’m not sure why, but my back straightens, because while it is nice to lean on him, I can do this alone, even if I shouldn’t.
He seems to sense my resolve through the line, because he lets out a heavy sigh. “You’re going to walk in recording, okay? No matter what you see. And if you need to, you call me back.” His voice goes quiet, like he’s talking more to himself. “I’m only twenty minutes away.”
He’s thinking of coming back, and I say sharply, “No! I can do this.” I don’t want him to see the wreckage of my life. Talking about it with him is one thing, but seeing it like this is another. I don’t want him to know that my own sister…
If she is.
She might not be.
There could be another plausible explanation for her being here. Maybe her husband is with her, and they’re trying to figure out why I’m casually blowing up my family’s life.
I roll my eyes at the thought. Caroline has never cared about anyone but herself, and that’s not changing tonight.
“Okay,” Grafton is saying, and I let out a shaky breath. It feels like, in the short time we’ve gotten to know each other, I already know him better than Christopher. And I know he’s fighting against every natural instinct he has, insisting that he ride in to my rescue.
The fact that he’s respecting my decision, trusting me to handle this myself? It warms me in a way nothing else can.
“Call me back, okay, Lynne? As soon as you get clear, you call me, or I will hunt you down.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, a smile tugging at my cheeks. How long has it been since I was a priority to anyone like this? I don’t doubt for a second that Grafton means what he says, a bone-deep certainty warning me that if I wanted to shake this man off, it wouldn’t be an easy feat.
“Lynne,” he growls, a low rumble filled with annoyance. A dewy heat curls through my stomach and creeps downward, and I press my thighs together, grateful he can’t see my flushed cheeks. “You will call me. Clear?”
I’ve never gotten off on being bossed around, but I don’t think I mind Grafton telling me what to do. An image of him sitting behind his desk hits me, crooking his finger at me, a wicked smirk curling his mouth. Come here, Lynley.
It’s so vivid that it feels real, rather than some part of my overactive imagination, and a rush of heat runs through me. I blink rapidly, jerking upright and staring blindly through the windshield.
“Lynne?” There’s a thread of amusement now, like he knows what’s going through my mind, and my skin heats. But he couldn’t. He can’t.
“Clear,” I whisper.
“Good.” His voice warms with approval, and pleasure trickles down my spine. “Now, game face on. Don’t let either of those assholes get to you.”
There’s something about his lack of questions that steals my breath. In our conversations so far, my sister isn’t someone who has ever come up. And yet, in the space of just a couple of minutes, he’s read the situation just by listening to me. Trusting me.
It’s been so long since anyone has unequivocally been on my side.
Christopher is always thinking about work and his image, or how his family would feel about things.
My mother always worries about Caroline and the effect on her.
Caroline just thinks about herself. It’s not until this moment that it really hits me how alone—how isolated—I am, and tears sting my eyes.
“Grafton?” It’s a broken whisper, and he lets out a rough breath. “Thank you.”
Again, he seems to understand more than I’m saying, and I squeeze my eyes shut as he murmurs, “You’re not alone anymore.”
I’m not sure how to respond, or if there’s even anything I can say, so instead, “I’ll call you,” falls out of my mouth.
He chuckles. “You do that, baby.” There’s a click, telling me he’s ended the call. I don’t drop the phone straight away, that “baby” reverberating through my head.
I lower my arm slowly, my heart fluttering wildly in my chest. I shake it off, a renewed confidence filling me as I finally leave the car.
I keep my phone in my hand, setting a video up to record, and head toward the house.
I don’t go for the front door, wanting to hold onto the element of surprise for as long as possible.
Instead, I head around the house and through the garden gate, knowing the back door will be unlocked, Christopher too arrogant to believe anyone would ever dare break in.
I guess he never thought it would be me, though.
It leads into a mudroom off the kitchen, which is dark and empty as I walk in. The only light comes from the glow of the moon through the window, but it’s enough for me to see the empty wine glasses sitting on the counter.
Two of them.
I can read a lot about the situation with those glasses alone.
The first is that Caroline isn’t here with her husband.
The second is that this encounter, whatever it is, is more casual and relaxed than she and Christopher have a right to be together—especially while I’ve been at my mother’s, trying to piece myself together as everything is crumbling around me.
The betrayal keeps building in my mind. Even if they aren’t fucking, my sister shouldn’t be choosing my husband over me. And yet, she clearly is.
For the briefest second, Grafton flashes through my mind, followed by a wave of guilt, but I sternly remind myself that I have nothing to feel guilty for.
There’s something there—a spark, an attraction—that I would never act on while I’m still married. And the truth is, Grafton has been here for me in the last couple of weeks more than Christopher has been in years.
I step into the dining room just as a voice, familiar and shrill, breaks the silence of the house. It’s coming from the living room, and I edge in that direction, my footsteps muffled in the thick carpet, until I can make out the words of my sister.
“You can’t let this happen, Christopher! I will not let you throw away my life because you were stupid enough to get caught.”
***
I don’t move, my back against the wall as her words wash over me. My phone is in my hand, and I check the video is still recording before holding it out closer to the door—not trying to get them on the screen, but hoping the mic picks up their voices.
I wish I was more surprised.
Even though I’m not, I also wish that Caroline’s duplicity still didn’t hurt quite so much. No one grows up expecting their sister to betray them like this.
Stealing clothes or makeup? Sure.
Sleeping with your husband of a decade and father to your children? Not so much.
And there is not one part of me that doubts they’ve slept together. I won’t let them gaslight me into believing otherwise.
“This isn’t about you, Caro.” Caro. A name I’ve never heard him call her, but now, it rolls off his tongue with ease. “None of this was supposed to fucking happen. She won’t even talk to me! How am I supposed to stop it?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” my sister says sarcastically. “Why not turn the clock back and not fuck anything in a short skirt?” A slight thump, like she’s stomping her foot. “You knew the risks you were taking. It’s not like you even tried to hide it. I found out, and so did—”