Epilogue
CHRISTOPHER
“Why didn’t you tell us that Lynley has Grafton Reynolds’s support?
” my father demands, shooting me a vicious glare as he paces the length of his office.
My mother is perched on the settee, a glass of wine clutched in her trembling fingers, her eyes glazed.
I’m pretty sure she popped a pill when my father wasn’t looking, but that’s not my problem.
“I would have told you if I knew,” I tell him, resting an ankle over my knee, acting unaffected.
“She has kept that fact pretty quiet. Not surprising, because it doesn’t look good, does it?
Divorcing her husband and jumping into bed with his boss.
Everyone thought she was a gold digger when she married me. Now she’s just confirmed it.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” my father demands loudly. “She doesn’t need him for his money when she’s basically hung you out to dry. And you let her!” His last words are a roar, but I stare back at him unblinking.
“Luckily, our money is tied up,” my mother mumbles. “He could have destroyed us all.”
My father’s cheeks are red, sweat dotting his forehead. “He still might, Francine. We never should have—”
“We need to rescue the children!” My mother suddenly sits up, her glass tilting and wine sloshing all over the rug under her feet. “We cannot leave them with her!”
“For God’s sake, Francine,” my father snaps back.
“Let it go!” He turns to face me, his scowl damning.
“You need to fix this,” he says, voice lowering.
“We need to keep our heads down so he doesn’t decide to come after us, and the first step means removing every connection from his family to us.
” The look he levels on me is meaningful, and I blow out a breath. Angelica.
“What do you want me to do about her?”
His mouth presses into a flat line. “I don’t care, but Christopher…There can be no baby between our families. We cannot have that kind of tie between Grafton Reynolds and us.”
A wail comes from the couch. “I forgot about that.” My mother dramatically stands, stumbling from the room.
My father watches her go before shaking his head, looking back at me. “Clean it up, Christopher,” he says lowly, “before we end up buried under it.”
With that, he leaves me stewing in his office, storming off in search of my mother.
***
Twenty minutes pass, and when neither reappears, I decide to get out while I still can.
I’m numb as I head away from my parents’, carefully avoiding any streets that will take me near the house I shared with my wife, the large For Sale sign already hammered into the ground outside.
Lynley never has been like the women who surrounded me growing up, or the type my parents expected me to marry. I knew going into our marriage she would expect a level of fidelity from me, so I made sure she never had to confront the facets of our marriage that she wouldn’t like.
When she suggested moving our family to Sterling fucking Creek, I didn’t fight her on it.
The distance between our home and my office seemed like the perfect situation.
I could keep my proclivities, and my wife would remain content and unaware.
It gave me the space to keep everything separate and my life just as I wanted it, but I miscalculated.
I didn’t take into account the reduced distance to Lynley’s fucking family.
I pull into the motel I’ve been staying in, unable to bear the idea of shacking up at my parents’—the cost of it be damned. Before I even get anywhere near my room, I can see the shadow of a slight figure hovering by the door.
I pause, keys jangling in my hand, too tired to play the avoidance game. As I step into the flickering light outside my room, the person turns to look at me, a sharp gasp coming from them. They step forward, and I bite back a groan as the light falls onto Angelica’s face.
She looks young, her eyes wide and lips swollen, like she’s been chewing them to bits. She’s wearing a short skirt and a midriff top, showing off inches of her stomach, and a wave of exhaustion rolls through me.
“Angelica,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now is not a good time.” I don’t even know how she knew where I am staying, because I definitely didn’t fucking tell her.
“Chrissy!” she chirps, eagerly throwing herself into my arms. “I’m so glad you’re back. I was starting to get worried.”
I stiffly grip her arms, remembering everything my father said earlier, and push her back from me. “What are you doing here, Angelica?” I ask through gritted teeth. “Now is really not a good time—” My eyes drop, locking on the luggage at her feet, my eyes bulging.
“I thought it was time for us to move in together.” She grins, something calculating flashing through her eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ve already started looking for the perfect house.”
“What are you talking about?” I growl out, frustration bubbling down my spine.
“Your divorce is official now, right? So we don’t have to hide anymore.” She pulls back, eyes wide and shining as she touches her flat stomach. “We can finally be together…as a family.”
***
Mase crosses his arms over his chest, scowling down at his feet. “I don’t want to go.” He kicks his sneaker into the ground, making sure he doesn’t look at me—something he hasn’t done since I arrived. “Grafton and I have plans today.”
He might as well have punched me in the gut, and I blow out a heavy breath. “Look, Mase—”
Before I can finish, he turns on his heel and stomps back up the steps, disappearing inside the house. Lynley watches him go, her expression impassive, and Ginny clutching her hand.
“You’ve been turning him against me,” I accuse her quietly when she turns back to me, but she just smiles, sending my irritation ticking higher.
“Why would I do that?” she asks easily. “You do it so easily on your own.”
“Mom,” Ginny tugs on her hand. “If Mase isn’t going, I’m not going.” She doesn’t wait to be told otherwise, skipping up the steps and following her brother.
Lynley turns to look at me. “I’m not going to force them to spend time with you if they don’t want to.”
I glare at her. “I’m trying here, Lynnie.”
Her eyebrows climb her forehead. “Are you?” she counters. “Because rocking up to our home with zero notice is not trying. You don’t think that calling them first might have been a better idea? You haven’t seen them in weeks.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I don’t understand why you keep needing to make this harder,” I complain. “We had ten years together, and you threw it away like we were nothing.”
A laugh trills out of her, light and happy, like she’s genuinely amused. “We were nothing, Christopher. If you don’t see that now, you never will.”
“Every man fucks around on his wife,” I snap. “It didn’t mean anything but sex. I married you. That means something.”
Lynley watches me, her eyes full of pity. “I don’t want every man,” she tells me. “And the fact that you’re still justifying it tells me everything I need to know.” She turns and heads up the steps, calling over her shoulder, “Call first next time.”
The door shuts behind her—not forcefully, but with a firm snick that screams at the permanence of shutting me out. I take a step back, and then another, my shoes crunching on the gravel as I stare up at the monstrosity of a house I know I’ll never see the inside of.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I whirl around, heading for my car as I yank it out, frowning when I see my father’s name. I hit accept and put it to my ear, immediately pulling it back away when his yell comes through the line.
“What the fuck have you done now?”
“What are you talking about?” I snap, pulling my door open and sliding behind the wheel. “I haven’t done shit.”
He’s breathing heavily, each gusty exhale reminding me of a raging bull. “Someone’s come after us. Everything’s frozen. They’re saying it’s a routine audit, but”—he curses loudly—“this was Reynolds,” he decides. “He’s fucked us!”
***
I stare up at the old brick building, my eyes tracing over the sign, trying to connect the view of it with my wife—ex-wife.
The Sterling Thread.
An uncomfortable feeling settles in my stomach because I can’t connect the image of Lynley with someone who would open up a business like this—a boutique that showcases local artists.
Our entire lives together, it was me who brought the money into our family, whether through my trust or through my job. And now I have nothing, and she is a business owner.
Nothing about this version of my life makes sense.
The back of my neck prickles as if someone’s got their eyes pinned on me. A quick sweep of the street shows it’s just as quiet as when I arrived, most everyone at work this early in the afternoon.
Needing to get this last-ditch attempt over, I stride across the street and push the door open, wincing when bells chime merrily overhead.
“Just a minute!” Lynley calls from the back, and I close my eyes, memories sweeping over me. It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve heard her voice, and it sends me back in time to where my life felt right, and not like a thousand puzzles all mixed into one box.
There’s a thud, and then footsteps draw near. “Hi, welcome to the—” The words all crash into each other as she comes into view, eyes narrowing into slits and mouth pressed into a thin line. “Christopher.” More contempt could not drip from her tone if she tried. “What are you doing here?”
She looks good. I can’t stop staring at her, my mouth dry.
Her hair is long, spilling down her back in dark waves.
She seems to have put on weight, but it looks good on her, her tits pressing against the cotton blouse, and a denim skirt accentuating her hips.
It was never a lack of attraction that made me fuck around on her.
It wasn’t even a lack of affection. It was just…
It was the way things were done, and she should’ve at least tried to understand. She didn’t fight for us at all.