Libby had spent most of that time in the guest room and the study, only coming into the main living areas when she knew Nick was out of the house. Now, looking at the stubble on his face and the deep lines carved around his mouth and eyes, she took pleasure in the fact he looked as drawn and haggard as she did. He’d caused this chaos—he deserved to suffer.
During her self-imposed isolation, he’d knocked on her door a few times each day, but she’d limited their infrequent conversations to issues regarding the children. She’d ignored his pleas of, “Please, Libby. We need to talk.”
Now she broke the silence. “You’re still here.”
His brow furrowed and his eyes scanned her face, looking for clues as to what she meant. “Yes.”
“I thought you might have gone to live with her and your son.”
His hangdog look was reminiscent of their terrier, Monty. “I told you. I don’t love her. I love you.”
And do you love your son? It was beyond her to ask the question—she feared the answer too much. “You say you love me—”
“I say it because it’s true.” He stretched his arm across the table, his fingers stopping just short of touching hers. “Thank you for still being here.”
She pulled her hand into her lap and shook her head. “I’m not here for you, Nick. Right now, I’m here for the girls. Unlike you, I’m not thoughtlessly destroying their world. I’m trying to limit the carnage. I refuse to make any life-changing decisions until I’ve found my footing in this nightmare you’ve pitched us into. We’re both going back to work tomorrow, which means facing the town. There are things we need to discuss.”
“I’m just glad you’re open to discussing things.” He tried a smile.
Once she would have smiled back, appreciating him and her good fortune. Now she could hardly bear to look at him. “Is Leo your son?”
His bewilderment returned. “You know he is.”
“No. I don’t.”
“Libby,” he said patiently as if he was talking to a child. “He’s got my eyes and my hair. Mom says—”
“His mother has brown eyes and dark curly hair too,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear Rosa’s opinion that Leo looked exactly like Nick as a child. “It’s not definitive proof.”
“He was born nine months after—”
Libby gripped onto hatred, fighting the image of Nick and Jess locked together that always undid her. “You told me she lied to you about using contraception so she’s likely lying to you about Leo being yours. I want a paternity test.”
He looked skeptical. “She won’t agree. I asked her when she was pregnant and she said it was too dangerous. I asked again when he was born. She said she wasn’t subjecting Leo to the pain of a needle.”
God, how gullible was he? “She lied to you about that too. It’s not a blood test. It’s just a swab inside his mouth and yours. Simple and painless.” Libby pulled the lid off her heavy silver pen and made a note beside item one on her list. “Are you paying her any maintenance?”
He looked affronted. “Of course, I am.”
“It stops until we get the results of the paternity test.”
“Libby, that’s not very fair to—”
“Fair?” She lost control of her barely restrained fury. “If life was fair, you wouldn’t have put us here. I know her and she’ll dig her heels in about the paternity test just because she can. But as from tomorrow, when I cease contracting the financial side of the practice to Dekic Accounting Services, she’s going to be chasing money.”
“Okay. I’ll ask her.”
“No! You won’t ask her anything. That’s our next discussion point. All direct communication with her stops. I don’t want you talking to that woman again.”
He plowed a hand through his hair. “That’s going to be bit tricky because of—”
“You say you love me.” She speared him with a look loaded with the daggers she wished she could plunge into his heart.
“I do. So very much.”
His sincerity didn’t touch her like it had once. His actions had tainted it so badly she no longer believed it. “The night you broke me, you told me you’d do anything. Well, words are easy, Nick. Now you need to prove they’re true. If you want a snowflake’s chance in hell of staying married to me, then we’re doing things my way.”
“I do want to stay married to you,” he said firmly. “What else is on that list?”
“Have you been unfaithful to me with anyone else?”
“Jesus, Libby! No!”
“You need to have tests for sexually transmitted diseases.”
He recoiled. “But I just told you, she showed me … Why?”
She ground her teeth. “Because I haven’t been able to get pregnant since you had sex with her. An infection could be the reason.”
He paled. “I’ll have the tests.”
She ticked off item three and took a steadying breath. “Tomorrow you’re getting a new phone number and I’ll have access to all your texts, apps, emails, bank account, the lot. That woman will be blocked from my phone, my personal and work emails and yours. I’m creating a Gmail account solely for contacting her and it will only be used when both of us are sitting in front of the computer together.”
The initial burning heat of her anger had changed to a cold and determined chill. Now it iced her heart. “And Nick, if you ever try and contact her or see that child, we’re over. Do you understand me?”
Misery pulled hard at his mouth and anguish flared in his eyes. For a moment, she thought he was going to object. Finally, he nodded. “I understand.”
Libby replaced the cap on her pen, closed the red notebook on her first list and waited for the anticipated sense of relief and reassurance to wash through her. It didn’t come.
April
“Au revoir, les étudiants,” Karen said.
The school had called her in for some emergency substitute teaching after the French teacher broke her leg water skiing during the Easter break. Karen was always happy to take
