Chapter 4

I jumped, and the words came out before I could stop them. "Why are you back?"

Tracey scoffed. "What? Afraid I'd interrupt your good time with the college girl?"

I didn't know how to answer that.

Sometimes Tracey found being home too dull, and she'd take some young guy out for the night, staying away for days at a time.

I assumed this would be one of those times.

Luckily, Tracey didn't press the question. Instead her eyes went to the plate I was holding.

She spoke up suddenly. "Allan, I don't think I've ever eaten anything you cooked."

I drew my hand back.

She must have caught my reluctance, because she deliberately stepped forward and took the plate right out of my hands.

She settled gracefully at the dining table and began to eat, slow and unhurried.

I was getting irritated, and finally I couldn't help saying, "Tracey, that wasn't made for you."

Tracey acted as if she hadn't heard.

When she finished, she dropped the chopsticks, picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth, and let one word fall from her bright red lips. "Awful."

Looking at the plate she'd eaten completely clean, I almost laughed out of sheer anger.

I threw out a line. "If you think it's so awful, tell Paddy to cook for you."

Then I turned and headed back to my room.

I'd barely reached the door when, of all things, Tracey came after me. She shoved me against the wall, her fingers slipping under the hem of my shirt, and said in a husky voice, "Allan, let's have a baby."

Goosebumps shot up all over my body.

It wasn't the charged mood that did it. It was fear.

Ever since what happened on our first wedding anniversary, Tracey had never let me touch her again.

She thought I was dirty.

I'd tried a few times, unwilling to accept it, to seduce her.

The first time, she photographed me and posted it in the guys' group chat, so everyone saw me at my most humiliating.

For a while after that, I didn't even dare to leave the house.

The last time, she took me to a club and told me that if I was short on women, I could go sell myself. I knelt and begged her, crying until my face was a mess, and only then did she let it go.

After that, I never dared cross the line again.

So when Tracey came close, I assumed she'd thought up some new way to torment me, and I quickly pulled away.

Tracey looked a little displeased. She leaned in anyway and kissed me on the lips.

A faint smell of alcohol spread between our lips, and only then did I realize Tracey was drunk.

Tracey had a terrible tolerance. One drink and she was gone.

In all the years we'd been together, the only time she'd ever drunk was the day we got married.

So she really did like Paddy. She could drop every last defense in front of him and get drunk without a care in the world.

Something sour spread through my chest, but my voice stayed gentle as I coaxed her. "Tracey, you've got the wrong person. Let me go, okay?"

Tracey tilted her head. She was always agreeable when she was drunk, and she quickly let go of my hand.

I'd just breathed a sigh of relief, before I could even get another word out, when Tracey wrapped an arm around my waist, kicked the bedroom door open, and pushed me inside.

I heard her laugh quietly. "Allan, I know you put the college girl I found for you in the guest room and didn't sleep with her. You only kept her to spite me, didn't you?"

"No, I kept her because—"

I never got to finish. Tracey's kisses came down over me like a flood, until I couldn't make a sound.

Terrified, I struggled with everything I had, and by accident my hand hit the light switch on the wall.

The pitch-black room blazed with light all at once. I squinted, and once my eyes adjusted, I saw what was on the bed and froze where I stood.

Priscilla sat quietly at the head of the bed, hugging a pillow.

Her long hair hid her dark, misty eyes, so I couldn't read her expression.

And on her lap, Paddy lay sleeping soundly.

I didn't understand why Priscilla was tangled up with Paddy, but on instinct I reached out and covered Tracey's eyes.

She liked Paddy so much—I was afraid of what she might do to Priscilla if she saw this.

But I'd overestimated my own strength. Tracey seized my wrist and pushed my hand aside without effort.

She'd sobered up almost completely, and for the first time those ever-smiling, almond-shaped eyes held no trace of a smile.

She looked at Priscilla, her voice cold as ice. "Who exactly are you?"