Juliet’s car was parked in the driveway, so I knocked onthe door and waited for her to answer it. Her eyes widened when she saw me, but my gaze was trained on her still-flat stomach. The evidence of her betrayal wasn’t yet visible, but it was there all the same.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
I pulled my eyes up to her face. “I’m going to grab a ladder from the shed and clean the gutters before the storm. Do you still have shit in the yard that needs to come in?”
“You don’t have to do that, Luke. I can…”
“Get on a ladder pregnant? I don’t think so. Besides, this is still my house until the divorce is final. I don’t want it diminishing in value because no one prepared it before the storm.”
I stomped away from her, collecting the ladder like I said I would and setting it up to clear away any debris in the gutters. When that was finished, I filled the shed with the patio tables, chairs, and umbrella, along with the grill and hammock. Who knew if any of this was going to be mine in a few short weeks, but until then, I was going to take care of it like it still belonged to me.
The sound of my knuckles against the back door echoed through the house, answered by Juliet’s call for me to come inside.
“You got food? Water?” I asked her. I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t going to leave her without at least the basic necessities in case of an emergency.
“Yeah. We’re good.” She played with the hem of her shirt, looking almost nervous. I nodded and turned toward the door. “Luke,” she called, stopping me.
“What?”
“Thanks for coming by today,” she said.
I nodded again, and again turned to leave, only stopping when she called my name again.
“Luke, wait.”
“What?” Impatience snapped around me. I didn’t want to be in this house any longer than I needed to. I had come by, done my job. This wasn’t my home anymore. Hell, Wyatt’s house felt more like my home now that I had been there for the past six weeks.
“Can I talk to you? I need to tell you something.”
My brows rose in a silent permission for her to continue.
“I’m officially in the second trimester now.”
What the fuck? Was this what she wanted to talk to me about? My teeth rattled with how tightly I clenched my jaw. To Juliet, I remained silent.
“We want to start telling people, but we needed to tell you first. We both agreed.” She was wringing her hands together, another uncharacteristic nervous trait.
“Jules, I already know you’re pregnant,” I said slowly. She was stalling. Whatever she wanted to say, she needed to get to the fucking point and fast.
“Matt wanted to be the one to tell you before you heard it from anyone else. But you’re here now, and I just…”
“Matt?” Red tinged my vision. My shoulders tensed, along with every other muscle in my body. “Monroe?”
“That’s what we wanted to tell you.” Her eyes were studying me, looking for a reaction. “Matt’s the father. We’re together now.”
What. The. Fuck.
My partner? We worked together every goddamn day. I had trusted him with my life. But apparently, I shouldn’t have trusted him with my wife.
Words were not an option. I could barely formulate a coherent thought. I turned and stalked to the door. If Juliet tried to call out to me again, I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear anything except my scattered thoughts and the static noise of disbelief.
Gray clouds hung overhead. My body was pulled taut as blood boiled in my veins. I started driving without even thinking. Through the one stoplight, a few lefts and a few rights later, and I was there.
Matt’s car wasn’t at his house. I pulled up to the curb and cut the engine.
My partner—someone I considered a friend—had been having an affair with my wife for months. All those late-night yoga classes Jules would tell me she was going to—this was where she really was. I called Matt’s cell, letting it ring until the voicemail picked up. The message I left was short and to the point.
“Fuck. You.”
