“Possibly…” she snarled, her eyes traveling down my body and back up to my face like an animal sizing up its prey.
I felt bold but still slowly crossed my arms over my chest, guarding myself. Preparing for the worst.
“Do you know where Luke Wells is? He lives here.”
Uh, yeah. I know, Preggers.
“I know. He’s my neighbor,” I said, as a matter of fact.
“Mmm. I see,” she scowled as the words left her mouth, and my heart started to pound faster as each second passed. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I didn’t know who this woman was but the second she turned around and faced me, she gave off a very strong standoffish feel. She walked down the steps and stood right in front of me, and me being the bull-headed woman that I was, I stayed right in my spot.
I intimidated her right back.
“Well, could you tell him Ash stopped by? I really need to see him.”
“And you are…?” Annoyance filtered my voice.
She smiled coyly. “His wife.”
Twenty-Two
Someone get me a fucking resuscitator because I was pretty sure I was on the verge of death. The word “wife” played in my head on repeat the entire hour that I stood in front of Luke’s house.
His wife, oh wait, let me rephrase that, his pregnant wife, left as soon as she dropped a world-class bomb on me. I continued to stand in the same exact spot on his sidewalk even after JoJo’s car pulled up. I didn’t move. She walked over to me slowly, calling my name, but I stayed put.
“Seriously, Cammie. What’s going on?” JoJo’s voice was filled with concern, her eyes searching my body and face several times before she snapped her fingers in front of my eyes.
I finally looked up at her and choked, “He’s married.”
Her dark eyebrows folded inward. “What?”
“Luke. He’s married.” My words came out short and blunt. I felt like I couldn’t catch my breath.
She said nothing and neither did I. I very well could have been in shock.
JoJo pulled me back into my house and sat me on the couch. I heard her walk to the kitchen and then the bottle of wine being opened and poured into a glass. As soon as she slid it in front of me, I grabbed the glass stem in a vice grip and downed the entire thing. I didn’t even get to taste the fruity flavor before it landed in my stomach.
I waited a second before putting the glass on my coffee table, filling the room with a shaky clank. I stood up abruptly and walked into the kitchen, swiping the entire bottle off my counter. When I sat back down on the couch, I turned toward JoJo and finally dropped everything on her.
I didn’t cry, but I wanted to. I wanted to cry so bad.
“So, wait. How far along do you think she was?” JoJo sat on the floor below me. Her back was straight and her legs were crossed beneath her.
I looked away, glancing out the window again to the dreary, grey skies, unable to control the image of Ash flooding my brain. “At least eight months, but I’m thinking nine months. Unless it’s twins. Oh my God.” I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up or throw something. Maybe do both at the same time.
“There’s no way it could be his, even if it was twins.”
I stood up, pacing the room. “How could it not be his?! She’s his wife!”
“She could be lying, too. Calm down.”
I yelled, “I can’t! This is why this was an awful idea. I barely know him!” And to think that I love him…
“Listen, sit down.” JoJo stood up and put her arms on my shoulders, edging me back to the couch. I was pacing so fast that I was literally out of breath. Or it could just be the fact that I was totally out of shape. I’d stopped running once it got cold out. I know, I was a wuss who hated cold weather. Why do you think I lived in a state that barely got cold?
“It’s not his baby. He was deployed for eight months before coming here.” I bounced my head up and down in agreeance. “Then, he was here for…what? Two months?” I nodded again, trying to do the math.
I piped up, “That would mean…if he slept with her when he got back, she would only be five-ish months. Even with twins, she couldn’t be that big.”