Home > My Husband's Secret(5)

My Husband's Secret(5)
Author: Kiersten Modglin

Thinking of him made my heart ache. During the bustle of the day, between taking care of Becca and trying to restart my old interior design business, I could somewhat easily put my thoughts and feelings aside, but during the evening, once Becca was down for the night, that was when the pain began to seep through the cracks.

Three nights had passed since Lucas’ funeral, and I still felt like I was living my life in a fog. Becca still hadn’t grasped it, and every time she asked about her father, my heart broke a little more. Any piece that may have felt repaired shattered once again.

I picked up my phone without planning to, scrolling through my contacts. I knew it was a mistake as soon as I saw his name, but I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to help myself. I was lonely. I needed to talk to someone. Anyone.

I should’ve called anyone else, but no one else could fill the hole that Lucas’ death had left.

He picked up on the second ring. “Everything all right?”

“Yes,” I said, stifling a sob. “No.” I put a hand on my chest. “I just…need you.”

He was quiet, so quiet I almost wondered if he hung up on me, but then I heard him sigh. “Naomi, I can’t.”

“I know,” I said, wiping my tears.

“You shouldn’t have called me.”

“I know.”

“I mean, your husband just died. It’s going to look suspicious if you start having anyone coming around at night, but especially me. We have to be smart about this.”

I sniffled, pulling my knees up to my chest. “I’m sorry, it was stupid.”

The anger in his voice faded quickly. “It’s not stupid… You know I would be there in a second if I could. I hate being away from you.”

“It hurts more than I ever thought possible,” I told him. He was the only person I could truly be honest with. “Losing him… Missing you. Trying to keep it together after what happened. I’m so scared…and sad. I’ve never hurt like this.”

He huffed, and I could picture him running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Naomi. I wish there was something I could do, I really do.”

“I know.”

He took another breath. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I will be. Eventually.”

“It’s going to get better,” he said. “Once things calm down some, we can see each other again.”

“I wish you were here now,” I told him, fat tears filling my vision again.

“So do I. More than you know.” It wasn’t technically true. I did know. I knew how much he missed me. How much he wanted to protect me. I knew he felt powerless over all of this.

What I didn’t know was how he could still love me knowing the truth about what I’d done.

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

Clara

 

 

“Clara? Clara, what are you doing?” The voice was low and unrecognizable, and I wondered who was in my bedroom, but not enough to wake. I rubbed a finger across my face, my body unmoving as I felt myself falling back to sleep.

“Clara?” There it was again, and this time I startled, opening one eye and then the other.

The room I’d been asleep in wasn’t my bedroom.

I blinked the sleep from my eyes and sat up.

“What?” I asked quietly, sucking in a deep breath. “Where am—” I stopped, because the answer came to me nearly as quickly as the question.

The supply room.

At work.

I lifted myself from the floor as the memories came back to me.

Luke’s dead.

He’s gone.

I’ll never see him again.

I can’t do this.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I had no true work friends, now that Luke was gone, but Elizabeth was the next closest thing. The attending surgeon reached for my head, looking me over. Her red waves were tied back in a low ponytail, a stunning contrast to the black scrubs she wore.

“I’m not hurt,” I said. I didn’t want her to know the truth, but as I answered, I saw her face registering the scent on my breath.

Her expression went blank, her green eyes instantly serious. “You’ve been drinking.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I was holding a packet of gauze so tightly, when I opened my fist, it remained stuck to it. I peeled it from my skin and placed it back on the shelf. “I’ll go talk to Cooper.” I didn’t want to talk to our boss, but anything was better than the pitiful look I was getting from her. “I need to go home.”

She placed her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from walking away. “You didn’t answer me.”

I cocked my head to the side, asking an unspoken question.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, this time slowly, taking her time with each word. Her eyes crinkled at the sides, proving she knew more than she was letting on. Luke and I were quiet about our relationship. A few people knew, but it wasn’t something we flaunted. Looking back, I realized it was likely because he was trying to keep me a secret, but at the time it made sense not wanting to be too bold with our status. We wanted our careers to be viewed separately from each other. I wanted people to take me seriously as a surgeon. Though I was older, Luke was more accomplished. I’d already seen how being a man gave him an unfair advantage, even if we’d had a level playing field, which we never did. I didn’t want anyone to think that any success I achieved was owed to him.

“No,” I said finally, shoving past her on my way out of the storage room. My success wasn’t thanks to Luke, but it was possible the downfall of my career would be. I was not okay. In fact, I was not sure I’d ever be okay without him.

What have I done?

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Alaina

 

 

I was standing in front of a familiar house four times the size of my tiny apartment with wide eyes and my heart racing wild in my chest. The message on my phone made me nervous, but ignoring it would be worse. I needed to know what Naomi wanted to know—what Lucas’ wife wanted to know.

Wife.

The thought was a knife to the heart, ripping and stabbing what was left of my resolve. Not only had I lost the man I loved, the father of the child growing in my womb, but I’d found out he’d been lying to me for our entire relationship. Lying about more than I already knew he’d lied about. I didn’t know what to do with the truth, so I’d tucked it away for now. I planned to deal with it later, but grief had to come first.

When Naomi sent me the Facebook message that morning, a huge part of me wanted to ignore it, but I couldn’t. I knew I couldn’t the moment I read it.

The police are asking questions about Lucas’ death. I need to know if I should tell them about your involvement with him. We should talk. Can you come to my house at one this afternoon?

She included her address and I drove by it right away, but a drive-by didn’t do justice to pulling in the drive just now. It was incredible, all brown brick, two stories, with large windows and black shutters to match the front door, and an expansive front lawn with freshly mown lines. I couldn’t picture Lucas here. Not the man I knew. The man who ate Chinese takeout straight from the carton on my living room floor and drank cheap beer with me. The man who pulled off his tie the moment he arrived in my doorway and talked to me about art and foreign films. He wasn’t materialistic, the man I loved, but the man who lived in this house obviously was. I was finding it impossible to believe they were one and the same.

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