Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
My hands are shaking as I reach for the lock on the door. I hesitate for a brief moment, my fingers hovering over the handle, before I finally unlock it and pull it open.
Chloe and Andi push past their father, their little arms wrapping around me before I even have a chance to greet them properly. Their tiny hands clutch at my nightgown, their faces pressed against my legs, and for a moment, the guilt of everything I’ve done hits me with full force.
These weeks I spend at the lake are honestly the toughest weeks of the year for me, being away from them. I love my daughters more than anything, and yet, here I am, standing in the aftermath of these days and nights where I’ve pretended I’m not their mother, where I’ve pretended I’m not Shephard’s wife.
Having these getaways allows me to write my books much faster so I can spend more time with my girls when I’m at home, but I’ve never had the experience that I’ve had this time. I’ve always just gone away and worked. Truly worked. I’ve never gone away and done something so horrid, it could destroy my family. Destroy my kids.
I kneel down and pull them in for an even better hug, my arms wrapping tightly around them as if holding them close could somehow erase the guilt gnawing at me. “We came to surprise you!” Andi says, her excitement bubbling over as she bounces up and down in my arms.
I glance up at Shephard, my smile forced but as genuine as I can muster under the circumstances. “I see that.”
Shephard slips around us, his presence looming larger now that he’s inside the cabin. Just as I stand back up, he leans in for a quick kiss, his lips brushing against mine in a way that feels foreign after everything I’ve done. “Sorry,” he mutters, his tone apologetic. “They insisted I not tell you.”
“It’s fine,” I say, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions crashing through me. I hope my reaction is convincing, that he can’t see through the mask I’m wearing. “I needed the break.”
Shephard is holding two bags of groceries. He sets them on the counter with a sense of purpose, already moving toward the front door again before I can even process what’s happening. “We’re going to cook dinner for you,” he says over his shoulder, his smile wide and genuine. “I’ll grab the rest of the groceries.” He heads back outside, and I pry the girls away from me with as much patience as I can manage.
“Mommy needs to change out of her nightgown,” I say, trying to sound lighthearted as I usher them toward the kitchen. “You two start putting away the groceries.”
They’re too young to know how to put away groceries in a home they’re unfamiliar with, of course. Andi is four and Chloe is five. Shephard and I had them back-to-back, hoping it would be easier on us to go through the toughest years all at once. Now, watching them climb onto the chairs to reach the counter, their little faces full of concentration as they pull items from the bags, I feel a pang of guilt so sharp it’s almost physical. I should be better than this. I should be a better mother, a better wife. I shouldn’t be living this double life, sneaking moments with a man who isn’t my husband.
I glance out the kitchen window, watching as Shephard reaches into his trunk to grab the rest of the groceries. My stomach churns with a mixture of dread and urgency. I rush to the bedroom and grab my phone, my hands shaking as I open my texts to Saint. My fingers fly across the screen as I type, each word feeling like it’s sealing something inevitable.
Whatever you do, please do not come back here today.
I toss my phone on the bed and strip out of my nightgown, my heart still racing with the fear of what could happen if Saint shows up. The thought alone is enough to make my skin crawl with anxiety. I hear the buzz of his reply come through just as I’m pulling a shirt over my head.
My hands are still trembling as I grab my phone and read the text.
Is everything okay?
I hesitate for a moment, my thumb hovering over the screen. I don’t want to lie to him, but for some reason, it feels like I’ve betrayed him. He’s never asked me if I’m married, so there’s really nothing for him to be upset about. Besides, he’s married too. He’ll understand. He’ll probably even be relieved.
My husband and kids just showed up.
I delete all my texts from him and finish getting dressed. I slide my phone in my back pocket so Shephard won’t see me preoccupied with it. I walk out of the bedroom just as Shephard is heading into the kitchen with the rest of the groceries.