Since Lincoln was with Cassidy the night she came into the bathroom and nearly lives with us, he was the second person to find out about my pregnancy. Like Cassidy, he kept his word on keeping it a secret. Also like Cassidy, he knows who the father is.
“Why would you quit your job?” Finn asks.
Lincoln and Cassidy exchange a look.
“Just … stress,” I rush out, not exactly lying to him.
Being there, being around him, will be stressful.
He nods, although there’s still a question in his eyes. He’ll wait for the answer until we’re alone. One thing I appreciate about Finn is that he never puts me on the spot and always makes sure I’m comfortable.
We make small talk before Finn grabs my breakfast bag and walks me to my Mercedes coupe. Our pace is quick and hurried. I set my purse into the passenger seat, rest the cup in the holder, and turn back to look at him.
He fixes his gaze on me as if attempting to crack answers without asking questions.
Endeavoring to read me without making me uncomfortable.
Reaching out, he brushes away a strand of my hair waving in the wind. “Don’t forget, you need anything, and I’m here.”
“I know.” I bow my head. “I know.”
He hugs me good-bye.
Finn and I share two types of hugs.
Our friendly ones—him casually throwing his arm over my shoulders in a playful manner.
And our deep ones—him blanketing me in his arms, as if he’s my protector, and holding me tight.
Today’s is a deep one.
And as I’m bundled in his arms, I wish it would last forever.
I walk into Sunset Hill Preparatory with a slow pace, my throat tightening with doubt.
I’ve taught third grade here for two years. It’s an elite school with tuition costing nearly as much as an Ivy League.
I wave at Rachelle, the secretary, as I enter the office and hope my voice doesn’t sound scratchy. “Morning! Is Principal Long in his office?”
Is this the right place to do this?
Probably not, but I don’t want to meet him in private anywhere.
The less time with him, the better.
He also can’t make a scene here.
So, the school it is.
She grins from ear to ear at his name. “Sure is!”
Rachelle is a big fan of the principal.
Most at Sunset Hill are—staff, parents, students.
The man succeeds at faking it.
My hand trembles when I knock on the door. I’m close to changing my mind, to flee, when he yells for me to come in.
“You can do this,” I whisper to myself, avoiding Rachelle’s gaze, worried she’ll notice my nervousness.
I’m proud of myself when I open the door and step inside. I glance back at the door, debating on whether to shut it. It’s something I was always hesitant about in the past—closing us in and people speculating we were up to no good. This moment is similar … although something different will be happening this time.
Sitting behind the mahogany desk is a man I once adored yet now think is trash. He looks the part in his black suit and fun tie; his brown hair is curly yet controlled simultaneously.
A flash of shock quickly passes over his features at the sight of me.
He smirks and jerks his head toward the door—a silent demand to shut it, and I do. “And here I thought you were done with me.” Leaning forward, he steeples his hands and rests them over a stack of paperwork on the desk.
Gone is the nice-guy front he delivered for months.
Why is it always the quiet, polite ones who end up being the most deceitful?
As much as I’ve frowned upon players, at least they’re open about their intentions.
I raise my chin. “I am.”
“Why are you here then?” The satisfaction in his tone confirms he assumes this is me running back to him.
He licks his lips while eyeing me in expectation.
Here goes.
“I’m pregnant.” I’m proud of how sharp my tone is—no stuttering, no doubt.
The smirk he was carrying drops faster than his morals. “Motherfucker.” His face pales as he slides his chair out from the desk and stands. “This can’t be happening.”
“I don’t expect anything from you,” I rush out, nearly pleading. “You can sign over your rights, and I’ll raise the baby on my own.”
I swallow at the thought of doing it alone, but as terrifying as single motherhood sounds, I’ll take that over having Gavin in my life.
He rubs the back of his neck. “No, that’s not what I want.”
Wait, what?
Not what I expected.
“You know what you’re saying, right?” My words come out slow, as if I were speaking to one of my students.
He nods. “I do.”
“You’d have to come clean to your wife.” I squeeze my eyes shut at the last word.
It’s a hidden detail of his life.
A label he kept in the dark.
There was no ring. No photos. No social media.
All I had was his word … or lack thereof.
I assumed he didn’t have a wife since he never made it clear he did.
“Not exactly.” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth while circling the desk to come closer.
I grimace as he draws near. “I’m confused.”
“My wife …” He clears his throat and stands tall in front of me, the sage tones in his cologne hitting my nose. “She’s also pregnant.”
I swing my hand back, prepared to punch him, but hold back.
This motherfucking asshole.
Curse words aren’t a regular in my vocabulary.
Since I’m around children all day, I’ve trained myself to use kid-friendly language.
But this … this calls for profanity.
And a quick kick in the balls if being fired wasn’t a consequence.
“Did you …” I retreat a step and signal between us, begging tears not to surface. “When did you know?”
When we had sex?
Exchanged love devotions?
Had sleepovers at his temporary condo?
He tugs at his ear, his eyes leveled on mine and lips pinched together. “That doesn’t matter. If she finds out I cheated, our prenup will be null and void. No way in hell am I giving her half of the money my family worked their asses off for.” The disdain on his face disintegrates, his mood changing, and he smiles. “I want to be with you, Grace. I love you, not her.”
Reaching out, he attempts to take my hand, but I swat his away.
Snarling, I shove my finger in his face. “Don’t. Don’t you dare. You no longer get to touch me. You lost that privilege when you failed to tell me you were married.”
Gavin recently relocated to Anchor Ridge, Iowa, from California to take the job as principal here. His wife wanted his children to finish out the semester at their old school and decided to join him later. Temporarily, he rented a small condo while waiting for them. Not once did he mention a wife, so I never questioned it.
Along with most of the staff, I found out about his family when his wife showed up at the school to surprise him. As I dropped my bagel to the floor while processing what was happening, the warning signs I’d missed became clear. The times he had taken calls in different rooms with hushed whispers and how he’d hardly mentioned his life in California.