“Trust me, Charlotte. I knew him. He didn’t set up the vacation or the flowers.”
“Again, how would you know? How can you be so damn sure?” I yell at him. He simply blinks his beautiful, green eyes at me as if waiting…waiting for me to figure it out myself.
“No,” I suddenly gasp in understanding. “Roman, no! You?”
“Me,” he replies simply.
“But…why? Why would you do that?” I ask in confusion.
“Because after Adam died, I didn’t know what else I could do for you, and I needed to do something! But it’s been five years, Charlotte. It’s time for you to know the truth, and it’s time for you to move the fuck on!”
“Move on?” I repeat. “Like it’s as easy as just saying the words. Have you ever lost someone you love?”
“No. I told you I haven’t.”
“Then you don’t get to tell me to move on!”
“For fuck’s sake, Charlotte. Please don’t make me do this.”
“Do what?” I ask.
“Tell you the secrets I promised Adam I would keep for him.”
“What secrets?” I demand. Instead of answering, he just goes over to the dresser and starts pulling out clothes and putting them on. “Tell me, Roman!” I say when I march up to him and jerk the t-shirt out of his hands. “What secrets of Adam’s have you been keeping that you think are so freaking bad?”
“He has a kid!” he shouts.
“What?” I whisper, having obviously misheard him.
“I didn’t want to tell you, baby. I didn’t. I thought you were better off not knowing the truth, thinking the man was some sort of saint. But he wasn’t. Adam had a kid with a woman while we were overseas. He’s four and a half now. I send them a few grand a month to help out with bills because she didn’t want to tell you and ask for any of Adam’s survivor benefits.”
“You’re lying,” I snap at him. “I can’t believe you would make up something so…so terrible!”
“Why would I lie, baby? Why?”
“Because you want me to hate him! You think that if I hate him, then I could love you, but you’re wrong! I will never love you as much as I loved him.”
I’m visibly shaking I’m so pissed when I toss down his t-shirt and go over to grab my clothes and start getting dressed.
“Charlotte, just wait a second, and try to hear me out,” Roman says from behind me.
“No. You’ve said plenty, and I don’t want to hear another word out of your lying mouth.”
“Then look,” he says, shoving his phone in front of my face so that I have no choice but to look at the photo on the screen. It’s a picture of a blond-haired toddler smiling big for the camera with a little round cake in front of him. “Tell me you don’t see the resemblance!”
“I-I don’t know,” I reply as I stare at the boy’s face. He has light hair, and his eyes go all squinty when he smiles in a way that is somewhat familiar.
“Let me take you to see him and Meredith. Talk to her and see if you still think I’m making this shit up.”
“Meredith?” I repeat the name. A name that sounds vaguely familiar. Why does it sound familiar?
“She was stationed at Camp Leatherhead with us. That’s where they met.”
“What…what are you saying?” I ask. “Are you saying that while my husband was stationed in another country, fighting a war, that he was…he was cheating on me?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
I shake my head because I just don’t believe it. “If Adam did that…it was a mistake. A one-time mistake when he was upset or drunk.”
“He loved her, Charlotte. It wasn’t a mistake. He was trying to figure out who he should be with — you, his wife, or the other woman he loved and his son.”
“That’s impossible!” I shout while bracing my palms on the dresser. “He would’ve told me. Adam was honest to a fault! He even told me when he hated my haircuts or the outfit I was wearing.”
“He didn’t want to hurt you,” Roman says. “I didn’t either, but you deserve to know so that you can move on.”
“You hurt me so that I could move on,” I mutter. “How could you? How can you stand there and say you care about me when you knew this all along and didn’t tell me, not until I was ready to leave today?”
“I am not the bad guy here,” Roman grits out. “You don’t get to put this shit on me just because Adam died and I’m still alive.”
“I-I need to go,” I say as I quickly finish dressing and shove the rest of my things in my bag.
“Charlotte, no! You can’t leave like this. Please, just stay and let’s talk about it.”
“I can’t. Not right now,” I say, grabbing up my purse and throwing it on my shoulder, then scooping up my luggage before I practically flee from the house.
Roman
* * *
“I fucked up,” I tell Winston.
“What’s that now? I think I’m hearing things,” he says when he cups his palm to his ear. My best friend knows I am not a man who likes to admit when I’ve made a mistake, and he takes great joy in hearing about any that might arise.
“I fucked up!”
“Really?” he asks. “How?”
“Well, it’s been a goddamn month. I thought before Tessa went home, we would’ve found the assholes responsible and ended this all for her.”
“For her and for Charlotte, you mean?”
“Yeah, for both of them,” I agree. “And then this morning, I couldn’t take it any longer. I finally had enough of her thinking Adam walked on water, so I told her everything.”
“Told her…that her husband was screwing someone else and knocked them up while he was married to her?”
“Yep.”
“How did she take that?”
“Not well. Fuck, man, I knew she wouldn’t, so why the hell did I blurt it all out?”
“Because you’re in love with her and want her to love you back?” he offers.
“Yeah, I guess so. But now she’s pissed off at me, not him for cheating on her, but me for telling her he cheated! How screwed up is that?”
“You dropped a big bomb on her, prez. Give her a little time to let the smoke clear.”
“What if she doesn’t forgive me?” I ask him. “What if I fucked everything up to try and keep her and ended up losing her for good?”
“Roman, man, you’re the most stubborn bastard I know, and I mean that as a compliment,” he says when I narrow my eyes at him. “You’re not going to give up that easy, are you?”
“No, of course not.”
“That’s what I thought. Give her time and then annoy the shit out of her until she’s finally ready to admit that her husband wasn’t an angel.”
“But she’s leaving today.”
“Let her go,” Winston suggests, which is absolutely ridiculous.