“Yeah, Two eggs, over-easy with bacon and a side of whole wheat toast.”
“Perfect.”
“Let me ask you something.” I looked away from the note pad and up at him. “How’s Delaney doing?”
I swallowed. “Fine.” My eyebrows pinched together. “Why?”
Austin shook his head slowly. “I’ve been trying to contact her for a few days now, but she’s been ignoring my calls.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“You do that.” His voice was low.
In my gut, I knew he was here to talk about Caleb. All the puzzle pieces began to fall into place. This was the reason Delaney wanted to get pregnant. She knew it was only a matter of time before the truth about her and Austin came out, and if she were pregnant, Nate wouldn’t leave her. She’d play the “I didn’t know he was the father” card.
Fucking conniving bitch.
I wanted to text Nate and let him know everything. But there were some things you couldn’t say over a text message.
He would be home tomorrow, and I needed to warn him about the shit storm that was heading his way.
I kept replaying my conversation with Delaney at the pharmacy and my conversation with Austin while scrubbing off the grease in the oven. Mostly I was trying to figure out what to say to Nate.
“What's the matter?” Julian asked and hung up his key on the hook. He was just arriving home late from work.
“Nothing, why?”
“You hate cleaning the oven. The only time you clean it is when you're stressed about something. What's going on?”
“Nothing.”
“Can I ask you something?” Julian rested his back against the counter and watched me scrub the oven door.
“Sure.”
“Are you and Nate still good friends?”
My hands stopped moving, and I cocked my head to look up at him. “I would say so, why?”
“Nothing, really.” Julian crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. He lingers.”
I panicked. “What would make you say that?”
“His body language toward you.”
I reached for the degreaser and sprayed more into the oven, my mind running wild. “I think you’re reading too much into this. He’s your brother, Julian.” My hand trembled as I spoke.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” He paused, and I looked up at him. “My wife’s hot.” He leaned down and kissed the back of my neck, and I exhaled.
I stood and walked over to the sink to rinse out the sponge. “He and Delaney are planning to have another child,” I blurted. I needed any thought of Nate and me out of his mind.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Julian wrapped his arm around me. His chin rested on my neck. “And what about us?”
“What about us?” My body tightened.
“When do you want to have a little one of our own?”
Slowly, I turned to face him. “We live in your brother’s apartment. There’s no room for a kid in here.”
“So, we’ll move.” A grin grew on his face. “We have enough money saved to put down on a house. And we can sell the condo in Chicago. Dennis gave it to us. The title is in our name.”
I cracked my knuckles. That was a commitment, a long-term commitment, one I wasn’t willing to do anymore. “I . . . I don’t . . . I don’t want children.” I raised my hand in defeat.
“What?” Julian took a step back. Shocked, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“I don’t.” I shook my head. Children were something I pushed out of my mind years ago. Bringing a child into the marriage we had wasn’t something I ever wanted to do. “I don’t see myself as the motherly type.”
“You’re great with kids.”
“I’m great with other people’s kids. I’m sorry, Julian. I don’t want a child.” I shrugged.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” His voice grew louder with anger.
Annoyed with everything that was going on, I yelled, “When? When would have been the appropriate time to let you know I didn’t want children? When you were out fucking everything that walked? Or when we had nothing to our name? Or better yet, when we got married at twenty and I had no idea what I wanted in life?”
Julian’s hand slapped my face, and I gasped. “You selfish bitch!” he said through gritted teeth. “All I’ve ever done was give. Anything you wanted, I gave you. Now you won’t give me a child.”
My hand pressed on my burning skin, and I inhaled all the air my lungs could take. “Get out!” My voice bellowed through the house. “Pack your things. I want you out of this fucking house right now!” Tears of rage fell down my cheeks. “I want out of this fucking marriage! Goddamn it, I want a divorce!” My fists balled at my sides; my gaze never left his. “You want a kid so fucking bad, go find someone who’s fine being your punching bag!”