Quadruplets Make Six

This was it.

This was Graham’s home.

I parked my car as my hands began to sweat. My nerves were getting the best of me and everything was telling me to turn and run. But I couldn’t. I had to stand strong. I was going to be a mother and being strong was required of me. Strength was something I had to grow into because abortion wasn’t an option for me and mothers needed to be strong for their children. So I drew in a deep breath, grabbed my purse, then headed for the front door.

I didn’t see the car anywhere, and for a moment I questioned myself. Did the driveway lead somewhere else? Had I been mistaken in where the car had turned into? Maybe there was another driveway I missed? I walked up the decadent porch and stood in front of the massive double doors. I reached for the knocker and slammed it against the door, listening as the sound echoed out into the home.

I could only imagine the expanse of the house inside.

I heard footsteps approaching the door before it ripped itself open. I was face to face with the man who had been dodging me ever since he got home. And now, I was no longer convinced he had been on a business trip in the first place. Maybe the business trip was his way of avoiding me in the first place. Maybe he had been in town all this time and that was his excuse to not see me.

Had he found someone else? Was this thing between us over? Either way, it didn’t change why I was here.

I lost myself in his piercing eyes before a sound caught my ear.

“Daddy? Who’s that?”

My eyes fell to the floor as a small body pushed beside him. There was a little girl, no more than five, probably, with bouncing black curls and piercing blue eyes. I looked up at Graham as his face fell, then the sound of spit bubbles caught my ear. I crouched down a bit and saw more children come into view. Two identical toddler boys, to be exact.

Children.

That was what Graham had been hiding. What he had been withholding from me all of these weeks.

The man had a fucking family.

I looked back up into Graham’s eyes as tears crested mine. He was a fake. A phony. A good for nothing liar. The woman in the restaurant had been right about him. Everything she yelled at him that night had been true. He was low. The lowest of the low. He probably had a wife in there, waiting on his every beck and call while he dropped his standards for some poor old woman like myself.

The side woman.

I was nothing more than the side woman.

“Libby? What are you doing here?” Graham asked.

His question hit me like a ton of bricks. My vision began to blur with my tears as I stumbled back onto the porch. I tripped going down the stairs as my legs carried me as quickly as they could, and I could hear the little girl calling out after me. The rug had been ripped out from underneath me. The hope I felt seeing him in that cafe had been decimated by the bomb that had just dropped. I ripped open my car as Graham yelled my name, calling to me from his porch while his kids surrounded his legs.

Kids.

He had multiple kids already.

This was a huge mistake. Coming here had been a huge mistake. Sleeping with him had been a mistake and dating him had been an even bigger mistake. How in the hell had I convinced myself that a man like him could’ve ever settled for a woman like me? I had no prospects. No money. I had no home to invite him into that I could be proud of our accomplishments with my life I could talk to him about. I had nothing while he had everything. A beautiful home. A company he ran. An accomplished career and a family to love. He was everything and I was nothing… and those two things never mixed.

Ever.

“Libby! Stop!”

I raced down the driveway and left Graham in my rearview mirror. I was never coming back. I had no idea what I was going to do with this child, but I knew what I was going to do immediately.

I was going to go home, delete that dating profile, block Graham’s number, and move on.

Because it was all I could. I had no other choice.

Graham Alexander had left me with no other choices.

I raced back into town as I tried choking back the vomit rising up my throat. I couldn’t do this. Not now. I weaved in and out of traffic, trying to keep my nerves at bay as my hands shook. I was white-knuckling the steering wheel and trying to speed as much as I could without getting caught. My head was pounding, and my stomach was sick with fury. I wanted to get into a long, hot shower and wash all of this shit off my skin. I could smell him. I could still feel his lips on my neck. I could feel how his hands gripped my hips and how his muscles molded perfectly to my body.

I had to wash him from my skin if I was ever going to move forward.

I skidded into a parking space and slammed out of my car. The bile was creeping up my throat as I ran u