5. Chapter Five #2
“The apartment. My money. How easy it is to persuade me to give you whatever you want.”
For a moment, the words didn’t form any meaning she recognized.
“Who told you that?”
Hayden didn’t answer quickly enough.
“Dasha,” Caroline said.
“She heard you at dinner.”
The shock was so complete that Caroline almost laughed again. “No, she didn’t.”
“She saw you in the hall talking to your mother.”
“I didn’t talk to my mother.”
“Caroline.”
“I didn’t.” She gripped the edge of the counter. “I went to the powder room. I locked the door and stood there until I was sure I wouldn’t cry at the table. I didn’t call anyone.”
“Dasha was specific.”
“Dasha lied.”
He looked away for a second, and that hurt more than if he’d shouted.
“You believe her,” Caroline whispered.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You came home angry. You threw Paulie out. You started accusing me before you even asked whether it happened.”
“I’m asking now.”
“No. You’re waiting for me to confess.”
“Why would Dasha invent a conversation?”
“Because she wants you. You told me that yourself last night. She tried to get you back, you rejected her, and now she’s saying I laughed at you with my mother. How can you not see that?”
His gaze returned to hers. “I’ve known Dasha for ten years.”
The answer struck with terrible precision.
“And you knew me for one weekend before you married me. Six months later, you still don’t know me at all,” Caroline said.
He didn’t deny it.
She released the counter and pressed a hand to the ache under her ribs. Their daughter shifted against her palm. Last night, Hayden’s hand had rested in the same place. He’d felt their baby kick and laughed with her. He’d said he chose Caroline and trusted her.
She’d believed him.
“My mother and I haven’t discussed your money,” she said. “We haven’t planned what to spend or how much to ask for. I’ve kept postponing her move here.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know why.” Her throat tightened. “I don’t want her here anymore.”
Suspicion sharpened his expression. “Because Dasha heard you?”
“Because I’m unhappy.”
The words hung between them, plain and impossible to take back.
Hayden’s mouth flattened. “Last night you said you believed in us.”
“Last night you said you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“Then believe me.”
He looked at her, and she waited. It should’ve been the easiest answer in the world.
It didn’t come.
Caroline swallowed. “I won’t bring my mother into this house so she can watch me feel stupid every day. I won’t let her see me waiting for you to come home and wondering what I did wrong. I wanted to give her a better life. This isn’t one.”
“You have everything here.”
“Do I?”
“A home. Whatever you need. Whatever your mother needs. I paid your debt, I bought you clothes, and I hired people to help you. You haven’t had to work for six months.”
Each sentence landed like a bill placed in front of her.
“I didn’t ask you to pay my debt without speaking to me.”
“You accepted it.”
“I was grateful.”
“You accepted everything else too.”
“You wanted me to.”
“Did I force you?”
“You asked me to trust you.” Her voice broke, but she kept going.
“I wanted to apply for jobs. You said it made no sense while I was pregnant. You said I’d stop when the baby came anyway, so why should I work for a little while?
You promised to take care of us. You promised we’d talk about it later. ”
“And you agreed.”
“Because I trusted you.”
Hayden dragged one hand over his face. “You keep saying that as if I’ve left you starving.”
“This isn’t about that.” Caroline pushed her untouched plate away. “It’s about you giving me things and then standing here like I stole them.”
“I didn’t call you a gold digger.”
“You accused me of planning how to spend your money with my mother.”
“I told you what I was told.”
“What Dasha told you.”
“She had no reason to lie about it.”
“She wants my husband!”
Her voice cracked. Hayden glanced toward the hall, as though the empty house mattered more than what she had said.
Caroline’s face burned. “Last night, you told me I didn’t need a contract to prove I deserved your trust. What happened between then and now?”
“I had a conversation with people who’ve known me all my life.”
There it was.
“Your parents.”
He didn’t answer.
“They said something, Dasha lied, and now every promise you made is evidence against me,” she said.
“Stop twisting this.”
“I’m twisting it?” She could hardly breathe around the pressure in her chest. “You came home, looked at me laughing with Paulie, and you decided it proved something. What exactly? That I’m after his money too?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Then tell me what you think.”
“I think my brother enjoys making a fool of me. I think you enjoy helping him.”
“By laughing?”
“By flirting with him in my house while I’m in Manhattan working to pay for all of this.”
He swept one hand toward the counters, the lights, the impossible size of the home beyond them.
Caroline stared at him. “You don’t really think I’m having an affair with Paulie.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“No. You just want to make my laughter ugly too.”
“You want to know what I think?” Hayden’s voice rose at last. “I think I’ve defended every choice I made with you while everyone around me has told me to open my eyes.
I think I’ve refused every protection they asked for.
I think I’ve handed you everything, and somehow I’m still the man being laughed at. ”
“Nobody laughed at you.”
“Dasha heard you.”
“Dasha lied.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true!”
“Maybe my parents were right.”
The words stopped her.
Hayden’s chest rose and fell underneath his shirt. Anger had pulled his face into hard lines she barely knew.
“I should never have married you,” he said.
Caroline felt the baby move again. A small, living roll under her hand.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Don’t tell me what I mean.”
“You asked me.” Her voice came out thin. “I told you we were being insane. I told you one weekend wasn’t enough. You said you loved me.”
“And you made sure I couldn’t walk away once I understood what I’d done.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“You got pregnant in Vegas.”
For one stunned second, Caroline couldn’t connect the sentence to herself.
“We forgot protection together,” she said.
“Did we?”
Her hand fell from her stomach.
Hayden kept speaking. “You knew exactly what would happen if you got pregnant. You knew I wasn’t the kind of man who’d leave a woman carrying my child. You made sure one reckless weekend became the rest of my life.”
The kitchen blurred. Caroline blinked, but the tears spilled anyway.
“Our daughter,” she said. “You’re talking about our daughter.”
“I’m talking about what you did.”
“I didn’t do anything to you.”
“If you weren’t pregnant, I’d divorce you.”
Silence followed.
Caroline heard the soft hum of the refrigerator. She smelled butter and bread. Hayden stood across from her, breathing hard, as if he were the one who’d been wounded.
The night before, he’d held her with his hand over their daughter. He’d taken pins from her hair, kissed her tears, and made her feel precious. She had treated that tenderness like proof. She had believed the man he was alone with her mattered more than the man he became around his family.
But private love couldn’t protect her if he stopped believing it whenever someone else spoke.
“Caroline,” he whispered.
She didn’t know what he meant to say next. She didn’t want to hear it. She turned and walked out of the kitchen.
He didn’t follow at first. That helped her reach the stairs without running. She climbed carefully, one hand on the rail and the other under her stomach. By the time she entered their bedroom, the tears had reached her chin.
She wiped them away and got into bed without changing. The enormous mattress dipped under her weight. Hayden’s side remained smooth.
Footsteps crossed the hall. He appeared in the doorway, still wearing his loosened tie. His anger hadn’t disappeared, but he looked restless now. He glanced toward the bed, walked to the windows, then turned back.
Caroline stared at the blanket over her knees.
“I’m not doing this anymore tonight,” he said.
She had no answer.
“I’m driving back to Manhattan. I’ll sleep at the apartment.”
Her throat hurt. “Fine.”
He waited, perhaps expecting her to look at him. Perhaps expecting the same woman who’d spent months smoothing every bad evening until they could lie beside each other again.
Caroline kept her eyes on her hands.
Hayden took a breath. “I just can’t tonight.”
Then he left.
She listened to his footsteps move downstairs. A door closed. After that, the house contained only small, distant sounds: air through the vents, water inside the pipes, the refrigerator far below.
There were enough bedrooms for a small nation. Enough bathrooms that Caroline had once made Hayden laugh simply by counting them. She lay awake in the one room they shared, surrounded by all the things he had given her.
For the first time, she understood that none of them meant she belonged.