Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

HER — PRESENT DAY

The next morning, Cal is flossing his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror when I make my way in. He grins at me with the floss in his mouth, distorting his cheek. “Morning.”

“How’d you sleep?” I ask with a yawn. Cal is a morning person, always has been. As in wake up in the morning singing before you’re out of bed and skipping across the hall within ten minutes of waking up kind of morning person.

I’m the type of night owl who would rather not be spoken to for an hour after opening my eyes. I could lie in bed for hours after waking up, just zoning out on social media or watching TV. It drives him crazy to be in bed for more than ten minutes after he’s awake. At ten minutes, I typically still have one eye closed.

“Like a baby,” he tells me, always his response. I stopped sleeping like a baby the moment a baby started growing inside me.

I smile, turning on the shower before starting to strip out of my pajamas.

“Oh, don’t forget. I’m heading out of town in a few hours for the conference tomorrow,” he says. The words are so out of the blue, I’m sure I misheard him.

“Sorry?”

“Remember the conference tomorrow? I told you about it, the one right after we were supposed to get back from our trip. It’s not far away, just in Lexington, so I can be back in a flash if you need me, and I only need to be there for the first day of it. I’ll be back on Thursday.”

“I don’t remember anything about this.” I try to rack my brain, searching for the conversation where we supposedly discussed this inconvenient trip. Am I just feeling out of sorts and suspicious because of everything else that seems to be going wrong? Or do I have a legitimate reason to worry?

He purses his lips, staring at me like a puppy who’s just attempted a trick learned in obedience school. “Baby brain.” He smiles. “It’s okay, honey. I don’t expect you to remember something so small.” Turning back to floss his teeth, he adds, “I just wanted to remind you. So, if you need me to pick anything up for you before I head out, let me know soon.”

I close my eyes, stepping into the shower without a word. I hate the way he’s talking to me lately, but even more than that, I hate that he might be right. For all I know, I did forget about the conference. It’s not like it’s unheard of for him to go to them. I should know—I accompanied him to several when we were still sneaking around, when I was playing the role of his doting wife among strangers. It was hot and exhilarating, and I miss those days.

The baby kicks, and I look down, feeling guilty for even having the thought. I shouldn’t miss those days, when those days didn’t involve her. She is going to bring the best days with her. I already know it. My emotions are so all over the place lately that I’m not surprised when tears hit my eyes, mixing with the water on my face.

Cal finishes up on his teeth, tossing the floss into the trash and walking out of the room, humming a song I don’t recognize. Once I’m alone, I finally allow the silent sobs to claw their way out of me.

I’m not even sure why I’m crying. Because I’m scared to be alone in this house; because if I tell Cal that, he will most certainly act like I’m insane; because I don’t understand why Cal is lying to me or what Janelle wants; or probably, most likely, a combination of it all.

Later, as he’s loading his bag into the car, he gives me a kiss in the parking lot of our apartment complex, then he kisses my belly and says, “I’ll be home before you know it. You promise you’ll stay off your feet and rest, right? I made all your meals, and they’re labeled, so all you have to do is heat them up. I don’t want you climbing or leaving the house or doing anything except relaxing the whole time I’m gone, okay?”

“I still have work to do,” I say a bit defensively.

“And that work can be done from the couch while you rest, relax, and finish cooking our little one.” He kisses my temple. “I told you, you need to go ahead and take the rest of the pregnancy off anyway. Maybe now’s the time. We’re almost at the end, and you’re going to wish you’d taken the time for yourself when it’s all said and done.”

I press my lips together. He’s right, most likely, but I happen to like my job. And we’re a small company, which means when I’m not working, one of the four others are taking up my slack. I’ve already asked them to take over my work from our long weekend away. I just can’t see how it’s fair to ask them to take more of my workload until it’s unavoidable. Still, I can’t tell Cal this. He wouldn’t understand. His job isn’t the same, and his coworkers aren’t people he ever thinks about like I do.

“You’ll call me when you get there, right?” I ask, changing the subject.

“You know I will.” He kisses me again, staring at me as if it’s for the last time. “I miss you already, beautiful.”

“I miss you too.” I bury my head in his chest, my eyes blurring with tears at the idea of him leaving me alone. Once, not so long ago, I was an independent woman who had no issues with being alone.

Then came Cal.

And this man has rearranged everything about my life, my mind, and my heart. The woman I was when we met a year ago is unrecognizable to me now.

He slips into the car, waving at me once as he backs out, before honking twice and then zipping away. I don’t know why I’m crying as I make my way back into the apartment, except that I’m hit with how utterly alone I am without him. With Mom sick, I have no one left to talk to about anything.

I’d do anything to be able to call her right now, to have spent this pregnancy asking her advice, celebrating the milestones, and lamenting the struggles. I’d do anything to see her hold her grandchild for the first time or watch me walk down the aisle.

When I pictured my life, my future, it wasn’t supposed to look like this. She was supposed to be here. I check my phone, half tempted again to unblock Janelle, though this time it’s just to have someone to talk to. She was the closest thing I had to a friend in the longest time, and I screwed it all up.

But I can’t. Cal is my world now. It’s the two of us against the world.

Three of us , I correct myself quickly, hand to my stomach.

Then that voice that seems ever present in my mind lately comes creeping in. The one that says Cal is acting differently. That he’s different from the man I knew, the man I agreed to marry. That something is different and wrong and changed. And that I need to get to the bottom of it before this baby comes.

Phone in hand, I dial his number and wait for him to answer.

“Well, hello there, stranger,” he teases.

“Hey, I was just wondering which hotel you’re staying at in Lexington.”

There’s a long pause before he says, “Um, I’m not sure. Why?”

“You don’t know which hotel you’re driving to right now?”

He clears his throat. “Well, I have it in an email, but no, I don’t know it off the top of my head. I have the GPS set to get me to a restaurant first since I’ll want to grab a bite to eat for dinner before I check in.”

I click my tongue. “Oh.”

“Why are you asking?” Does his laugh sound nervous, or is it just my anxiety talking?

“I was going to send you a little surprise,” I tell him, thinking quickly.

He chuckles again. “Honey, you’re sweet, but you don’t need to do that, okay? Just rest. Watch trashy reality TV or read a book, and I’ll call you when I get there.”

I swallow, my throat suddenly too tight. “Um, okay.”

“I’m going to go. I was just pulling in to get gas. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Before he ends the call, my keys are in my hand, and I’m out the door.

With just a five-minute head start, it’s easy enough to catch up to the black Camry at the gas station down the road from our apartment complex. At least he wasn’t lying about that. I park near the back, ducking down when I spot Cal walking out the door with a bottle of water and an apple in his hand. He scrubs the apple skin against his pants before taking a bite.

Water and an apple. Even without an audience, he still makes the healthiest choices. I swear, this man always appears to be auditioning for the world’s most put together person.

Once he’s in the car and pulling out, I ease out of the parking spot where I’m hiding in plain sight. I keep four cars between us on the highway, my eyes trained on his car, matching him as he switches lanes and makes turns. So far, it seems like his story might’ve been accurate after all. He turns onto the interstate that would take him toward Lexington, and my heart strangely deflates. I should be happy he’s telling the truth, but somehow, it’s just further confirmation that something is wrong with me instead. That my brain is playing tricks on me, making me worry over nothing. Maybe yesterday with the nurse wasn’t so bad either. Maybe I’m overreacting about a lot of things lately, including the couple from the rental. Maybe I was rude to them when I didn’t need to be.

I’m planning to pull off at the next exit, to turn around and make my way home, when Cal makes a move I didn’t expect. He crosses two lanes quickly, and I follow. Then he gets off at an exit that definitely doesn’t lead to Lexington. He’s heading toward downtown.

The school, maybe? But why?

Keeping back a healthy distance, I follow him through the streets of downtown and toward a neighborhood called The Gulch, where I once took a makeup class on contouring with some friends. When he pulls into a parking garage for a building with a gym and a smoothie place, I know my instincts were right all along. Something is up with Cal. My gut does a little flip as if it’s glad I’m finally listening, followed by a sudden sinking feeling.

I can’t follow him into the parking garage. I’ve been lucky thus far being able to stay back far enough that he wouldn’t notice me, but there’s no way I can pull that off in a parking garage this small. And even if I could, the entrance is marked for residents only, and I can’t see what code Cal is typing in at the small terminal.

Thinking quickly, I drive farther down the block until I find a single street parking space. Normally I’d avoid parallel parking with every fiber of my being, circling the block until I gave up rather than attempt it, but right now, I don’t have much choice. I also don’t have time to make sure the parallel parking job is done well, just that I’m far enough over that I won’t get hit by something before I dart out of the car. Or…at least I try . It’s much harder to move at a few days shy of thirty-eight weeks pregnant, let alone dart anywhere, but I do my best. Carefully, I shuffle down the sidewalk, holding my belly in place while internally panicking that I’m either going to lose him or get caught without any credible explanation for what I’m doing here. He’ll know I followed him. He’ll know I didn’t trust him.

For all I know, maybe this is one of the other professors’ condos, and he’s coming to pick them up so they can ride to the conference together. But then why wouldn’t he have mentioned that? It’s something that would’ve come up, isn’t it?

When I reach the parking garage, I’m out of breath. Considering my blood pressure lately, I know this is probably not a good idea, but I have to know. I have to know that the man I’m about to start a family with is still the good man I know him to be.

Inside, I try to slow my breathing as I look around. There’s only one direction to go, so I walk it slowly, keeping myself close enough to cars that I could easily hide if I need to.

In the shadows of the parking garage, it’s hard to identify each car and whether or not it’s his.

Note to self: the next time we car shop, his only option is bright, look-at-me red.

When I hear his voice behind me, I freeze, terrified I’ve been caught.

“Hey, just letting you know I’m on my way up.”

I turn toward the sound, crouching down between a silver minivan and a green truck.

There.

He’s walking through the parking garage, oblivious to me or the fact that he’s being followed. I still don’t see where he parked, but it doesn’t matter as he steps into the elevator. I have to figure out where he’s going.

As soon as the doors close, I scramble across the silent parking garage, waiting until I hear the elevator stop moving before hitting the button to call it back to me.

When the doors open, the elevator is stuffy and reeks of feet, stale air, and urine. I hold my breath as I step inside, praying it moves fast.

There are multiple floors here, but this elevator only goes to other floors in the parking garage or to a floor marked L . I have no idea which floor Cal might’ve gone to, but he said he was coming up, so I have to assume he wouldn’t be waiting for the person in the lobby. Still, I press the button for the lobby first, trying to formulate a plan as I descend.

My stomach churns, and I have to press my hand against my nose, sucking in the scent of my hand soap in hopes it will stick around and mask the stench in the air. The back wall of the elevator is just a window caked with fingerprints and smears of unknown substances. I don’t dare touch it or the silver, metal handrail as I stare out at the bustling street and the construction across the road.

The elevator stops with a soft ding , and I step forward. The doors open slowly, not letting me escape this metal box of death- stench fast enough. I suck in a gulp of fresh air the second I’m free as I cross the quiet corridor and enter through a glass double door into the lobby of the complex.

There’s an elevator and a set of stairs there, but I have no idea which floor he’s on. Thankfully, the lobby is empty and quiet as I take the time to think. I can’t possibly check every floor before he enters whatever condo he’s going to. And once he does, it’ll be too late. I’ll have no idea where he is or if he’s even still here. If he enters and later leaves a condo on the third floor while I’m still checking the second floor, I could spend my whole day searching for a man who’s long gone. I have to think of something else. There has to be another way to find him.

I call the elevator, tapping my foot impatiently as I think. On the slow ride to the second floor, I chew the skin around the nail on my middle finger, a nervous habit I haven’t done in over a year. Thankfully, this elevator smells more like perfume than feet, so I can focus more on crafting a plan than masking the smell.

The plan comes to me like a flicker of light in a dark sky, appearing slowly, then disappearing. I have to seek it out, trying to make sense of it. Could it even work? Could I make it work?

I have to try.

As I near the second floor, I pull out my phone, reminiscing on the many years as a teenager spent prank calling crushes with my friends. I add *67 to his phone number before calling, so it will show up unknown on his end.

It rings twice before he sends me to voicemail, but I never heard his phone. Back in the elevator, I go to floor three. This building isn’t huge. From what I can tell, there are only four condos on each floor, which means standing in the hallway and dialing his number should result in me hearing his god-awful ringtone. For once, I’m grateful that he keeps that thing at such an atrocious volume.

In theory, this should work.

Maybe…

Hopefully…

I dial the number again on the third floor. This time, he answers with an angry, “What?” I nearly end it, but decide to wait, moving slowly through the hallway to listen. “What?” he calls again. “Hello? Who is this?”

I don’t hear his voice anywhere except through the phone line. Dead end. He’s not here either. I end the call and return to the elevator, pressing the number four. On the fourth floor, I dial his number once more.

In the distance, there is a faint ringing that nearly matches the one on the line. It’s his ringtone, the one that sounds old and makes him feel cool. The one that’s going to lead me right to him.

He ignores the call, and I call again, passing the first and second apartments. Lowering the phone from my ear as it begins to ring, I hold my breath and spin in place, trying to decipher which condo the sound is coming from.

Here.

I move forward slowly.

He’s behind the third door.

Door number three. As if this is some sort of twisted reality show.

“Who was it?”

Everything inside me freezes. The voice chills me to the core as I stop in my tracks.

Her.

No.

She lives here. She can’t.

He’s here with her. But…why?

“Scammer, probably,” he mumbles. “Come here.”

Suddenly, he sounds much different than the last time we were all together. Less stiff and formal. Less nervous. She giggles, and my blood runs cold.

His next words send my world into a spiral. “I’ve missed you.”

I know what I should do. I should walk away. I should leave and get myself out of this mess. I should gather evidence, pack my things, and move out. But I can’t. Before I know what’s happening, my knuckles are on the door, and he’s pulling it open, and we’re staring at each other. My vision is blurred with tears and rage as she shakes her head, both of them ready to deny what I already know.

“You’re cheating!” I shout, not caring that the door is open and I’m still standing in the hallway, not caring that I’m making a fool of myself. “You’re cheating on me, you asshole! How could you? ” I bellow at Cal, a finger pointed at him as I march into her home without waiting for an invitation. White-hot fury radiates through me as I whip my head around to face her. “And you! Was this always your plan? What did you want from me?” Maybe her betrayal stings worst of all, but I don’t understand why. “Was it all a lie?”

“No,” she says, a hand on her stomach. “No, Sadie, listen—” She takes a step forward, but Cal shuts the door and moves between us before she can reach me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. “How did you even find me?”

My face crumples as I stare at him. There isn’t a hint of guilt or sadness in his expression. “Is that really what you want to ask me right now? You don’t even care that I know about the two of you? That I caught you red-handed?” I look between them. “How could you do this to me?” I step back, my hand caressing my belly as I realize what this means. “How could you do this to us?”

“You don’t understand,” Janelle says, pushing past him. No— to him. She wraps her arm around his.

“What is there to possibly understand?” I’m going to be sick. “Why are you doing this to me? Is it because of what I did? Are you trying to get me back or something? Steal my fiancé and make me pay?”

“What is she talking about?” Cal demands, looking at Janelle for the first time.

“Listen to me. He’s not your fiancé, Sadie,” she says firmly, and it’s as if the room is now spinning, the floor gone.

“What are you talking about? Of course he is.” My body is a solid block of weightless ice.

“No.” She closes her eyes, bracing herself for what’s to come. When she opens them, they drill into mine. “He’s my husband.”