29 #2
“So... the tavern down the road?” I knew she’d say no.
She hated the place. After I turned twenty-one, I thought the place was the coolest. It had all the typical dive bar vibes.
The best greasy cheeseburgers. But I knew Whitney—that wasn’t her scene at all.
She preferred a place where she could sit, be waited on, and use actual utensils to eat.
As suspected, she wrinkled her nose at my suggestion. “Maybe not. Okay. How about that new little Italian place that opened up? My friend Clarissa said it was so good.”
She still looked unsure, but I nodded at her suggestion.
Lots of people around town had been talking about the place.
A few of the customers at the garage had even mentioned it.
But one of the major things they’d said was how expensive it was.
I tried not to let it bother me because I had a nice chunk of change in my pocket from Mr. George.
I could treat my wife to one nice dinner.
Instead of continuing to sit there thinking about how pricey the meal would be, I backed out of the driveway heading downtown.
It was the middle of the week, so at least it wouldn't be busy.
That was the hope, anyway. With the place still being so new and popular, there was no telling what we were walking into in the middle of the dinner rush.
I opted for the valet parking, which wasn’t something I normally splurged for. Whitney’s whole face lit up because it was like she knew I was treating her extra special. If she only knew it was because I felt guilty for what I’d been doing over the last few months.
“Good evening, sir and madam,” the host said as we entered the restaurant. He gave us a half-bow. I was instantly more nervous. This was a lot nicer than I thought it would be.
We only had to wait twenty minutes for a table.
The dining room was open with intimate round tables that were geared toward couples and dates.
Little votive candles sat in the middle of each one, casting flickering glows over bone-white plates.
Each table was set with wine glasses and gold silverware.
I shook off my nerves as we were seated and handed our menus. “Your waiter will be with you shortly. In the meantime, may I interest you in a bottle of wine?”
Whitney went to say something, because I always turned it down, but since I was already on a roll with spoiling her for the night, I might as well keep surprising her. “Actually, can we get a bottle of your house Cabernet?”
The host smiled, turning to walk away. When he was out of earshot, Whitney leaned in close.
“You actually ordered a bottle of wine?”
I shrugged at her question. “I finished a big job at work today. We can afford to do something a little nice.”
The wide smile I was expecting didn’t come.
The one she gave me looked forced, like she didn’t know how to take it.
Those nerves I’d been experiencing before suddenly intensified.
It was something she’d always wanted to do in the past. I’d told her we couldn’t afford it.
Now, the one time I said it was okay, it was suddenly a problem?
“Thank you,” she finally said as she looked over the menu.
Everything was overpriced. I tried hard not to focus on that. There was a really stupid voice in the back of my head that kept saying it would be nice to take Sable there.I shouldn’t have been thinking of him at all.
When the waiter arrived, he presented the bottle of wine, pouring each of us a glass. I took a sip, but noticed that Whitney didn’t.
“Did I pick the wrong kind?” I asked.
She only smiled. “No. Cabs are my favorite, but I haven’t really eaten anything today so I think I should wait until dinner comes.”
That made sense. We ordered our dinner. I got the Chicken Piccata while Whitney got the Pasta alla Norma. The waiter walked away, and Whitney fidgeted in her seat. Her joy from when we first got here was now sidelined.
“Is everything okay?” She was really making me nervous.
She took a deep breath, reaching into her pocket to pull out the papers she’d stuffed there earlier.
“Honestly? It’s better than okay. I wanted to wait until later to say something, but the longer I wait...” she trailed off as she unfolded the papers, staring at them again as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing on them.
Whitney reached across the table. I took her hand. It didn’t do a damn thing to settle my anxiety. My heart was still beating a million miles a minute—that feeling didn’t improve when she frowned as her fingers wrapped around mine.
“Where’s your wedding ring?”
The question sliced through the air like a hot knife through butter.
Oh. Fuck.
I’d taken it off that one night with Sable,but didn’t remember ever putting it back on. Had I really been walking around all this time without it? How the fuck did I explain that?
“The garage. It kept getting caught when I was working on Mr. George’s car, so I took it off so nothing happened to it. I must have forgotten to put it back on.” It was a weak lie. It was one I could tell she didn’t believe.
I’d been working on cars since we’d met. In the nine years we’d been married, I’d never had to take it off for any reason.
Her hand pulled back out of mine. “Tell me the truth. Why did you take it off?”
I swallowed thickly. This wasn’t how I saw this evening going at all.
“I uh...” the words wouldn’t come. The longer we sat there, her eyes filled with tears, it was the worst feeling in the world. Whitney was the sweetest woman in existence, deserving so much better than what I could give her.
The first sob had everyone around us staring. Shit. When had they all gotten there? The place hadn’t been that crowded when we’d been seated, but now it felt like every single table had people at it.
“Whitney—”
“I’m pregnant, you ass.” She slapped the paperwork onto the table.
“Six weeks. It’s why I’ve been so damn tired.
You’ve been so damn checked out for months.
I should have noticed when you suddenly started staying out overnight.
Of course Jayden was involved. He’s such a fuck-up. Orion, how could you?”
It wasn’t like I had time to explain. She cried even harder. All I wanted to do was get up from my seat and hug her, but it was the last thing I should have done. I didn’t deserve to touch her at all.
But then what she said slammed home.
Pregnant? But fucking how? I’d been so careful not to let that happen.
And that was when it hit me.
The night we’d been watching the movie. There’d been no condom and no lube. It was a heat of the moment situation. God, people weren’t kidding when they said one time was all it took.
“Let me explain.” It was a platitude. What the hell was I going to explain? That I’d been too terrified to say something to her about not wanting to be a dad so I’d fallen into bed with a sexy little stripper from Faded Sins. That I was maybe falling for him when I should be faithful to her?
“How long?” was her only question.
I took another deep breath before shaking my head. This didn’t need to happen in the middle of a fancy ass restaurant with all these people watching, but there was no escaping it now.
“Two, maybe three months.”
She covered her mouth with her hand as another sob fell free.
“Who is she?”
The question was like a slap in the face. While I’d never hidden the fact that I was bisexual, it was normal for someone to think their spouse was cheating with the same gender as them.
It took me a moment to figure out how I wanted to answer.
All I could focus on was all the people who were still sitting there watching.
They could all fuck right off. This was the ultimate in public humiliation.
Whitney would be horrified later as well.
It wasn’t like I could stop her, though.
Maybe the pregnancy hormones were fueling this meltdown.
Fuck.
I was going to be a dad whether I wanted to be or not.
“He.”
It was the only thing I said. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers before she stood from her seat, slamming her napkin on the table.
“Jesus, Orion. Don’t bother to come home tonight.” Whitney stomped out of the restaurant just as the waiter came out with a tray of our food. Food that was now going to waste. I was fucking paying for it, anyway. Money tossed down the drain because I was a damn coward.
Was I angry? Of course I was angry, but not at her. I was mad at myself for letting things get so out of control.