“Your in-laws? What the hell, Samuel, you’re married?”
His jaw tightens. He looks slightly annoyed, like it’s a big inconvenience for him. “I’ll explain later.” He brushes past me and heads toward the door.
“Later?” My anger’s bubbling up.
Samuel turns back to me for half a second, the look in his eyes unreadable.
“Tell me what the hell is going on!” I demand.
He pauses for a moment, as if considering whether or not to tell me. Instead, however, he shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later. Let me handle this first.”
“What the actual fuck?” I mumble as he leaves the room.
I stand there, my hands clenched into fists. Handle it? Handle what? My chest tightens, panic and fury twisting together into a knot. My stomach churns as I watch him disappear around the corner, leaving me with nothing but more questions.
I glance down and realize with a jolt that I’m still in my tank and shorts. No bra, no panties. Definitely not what I want to be wearing if I’m going to be ripped apart by his in-laws. My cheeks burn and I hurry to my room, my mind racing.
As I reach the guest room, I grab the first thing I can find that doesn’t scream ‘morning after.’ A pair of jeans and a flannel shirt will have to do. I pull the tank over my head and replace it with the flannel, buttoning it quickly, my hands trembling with frustration. My mind spins as I try to piece everything together.
I consider again how he doesn’t behave like a married man. Nothing so far has indicated that he has a wife. But what if I’m wrong? What if I missed something?
No. I won’t be that woman. I won’t stay under the roof of a married man. I will not be used, and I sure as hell won’t be the reason someone else’s marriage falls apart. I’ll pack up and go before I’ll let that happen. Simple as that.
I grab my bag and start shoving things inside—what little I unpacked last night after Samuel insisted I stay. I sling the bag over my shoulder and head for the door. If this is about to blow up, I’m going to face it fully dressed, head-on, and ready to walk away if necessary.
I pause outside my door. I’m pissed but also confused.
I glance around, my gaze noting the clean, masculine decor—dark woods, leather accents, minimal clutter. Nothing about this place screams married. In fact, there’s no sign of a woman’s presence at all. No stray shoes in the corner, no floral touches, no forgotten hair ties or makeup in the bathroom.
I head down the hall and look at the space with new eyes. The entire place is clean lines and dark tones, a bachelor’s dream. The kitchen is pristine, aside from the breakfast dishes. No family photos, no feminine touches. The guest bathroom is the same—functional, masculine, devoid of personality.
I step into the living room, stopping short at the sight in front of me. On the couch is an older couple, both of them nicely dressed, looking fairly well-to-do. They both exude warmth, the kind of people who belong in a cozy family portrait.
I hang back, unnoticed for a moment, listening to their conversation.
“We were worried about you,” the woman says, her voice soft. “It’s been a while since we’ve checked in.”
Samuel leans back in his chair, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I’ve been really busy,” he replies. There’s a lightness to his tone I’ve never heard before. “Not an excuse, I know. But it’s how it’s been.”
“It’s fine, Sam,” the man says. “How’s work?”
“The club’s doing well, Robert, thanks for asking. Better than expected, actually. Found some great new hires, finally getting the kinks out of the daily flow.”
The man chuckles, crossing one leg over the other. “I knew you’d make it work. You’ve always had a way with business.”
“Not to mention numbers,” the woman adds, smiling.
Samuel shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Nice of you both to say. But it’s more about me being too damn stubborn to let it fail.”
The woman laughs softly. “Well, we’re proud of you. Kara would’ve been, too.”
Kara.
Would’ve been.
That’s not the way you talk about someone who’s still alive.
The couple doesn’t seem upset or uneasy. There’s a comfort between all of them, a sense of mutual affection that doesn’t fit the narrative I’ve been spinning in my head.
The man glances toward the hall and notices me standing there. He rises smoothly, his expression brightening with a friendly smile. “Oh, I see you have company,” he says, his voice warm.
The woman stands as well, her eyes kind as they sweep over me. “Well, aren’t you a beauty?”
Samuel turns to me, his eyes flashing. He doesn’t look upset that I’ve walked in. But at the same time, it’s not like he’s tripping over himself to welcome me into the conversation. His silence makes the moment stretch out a little bit in an awkward sort of way.
“Hi,” I manage. I give a little wave as I speak, feeling like a little girl who’s walked into a grown-up conversation. I take a step forward, trying to hide the nerves buzzing underneath my skin. Whatever’s happening here, I’m about to find out.
I step forward, forcing a polite smile, and hold out my hand to the woman. “I’m Erin. Nice to meet you.”
Her smile widens, warm and genuine, and she takes my hand in both of hers. “It’s lovely to meet you, Erin. I’m Diane,” she says. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
Confused, I blink but manage to keep my smile intact. “You have?” My tone is light, but my mind is spinning.
Before I can piece it together, the man steps forward, his handshake firm and enthusiastic. “And I’m Robert,” he says with a grin. “We love Sam, but he’s always been terrible about introducing people. It’s great to finally put a face to the name.”
I glance at Samuel, my expression carefully neutral, though inside, I’m screaming. What name? What face? What the hell is going on? But Samuel just stands there, looking far too relaxed for my liking.
“Thank you,” I finally manage.
“So,” Robert says, turning his attention back to Samuel, “how about some lunch? We could go to that cafe on Madison you’ve mentioned before. Two o’clock work for you two?”
Lunch? With these people? I glance at Samuel again, hoping for some kind of clarification, but he’s unreadable, as usual. His calm only feeds my confusion.
“That sounds great,” Samuel replies smoothly. He looks at Diane and Robert, giving them one of his rare, genuine smiles. “We’ll meet you there.”
They both nod, clearly satisfied. Diane reaches out to squeeze Samuel’s arm, her gesture affectionate. “We’ll see you soon, then,” she says before turning back to me. “It really was lovely meeting you, Erin.”
“You too,” I manage.
Samuel sees them to the door, and I stand there, frozen, as it clicks shut. My thoughts are racing, a tangled mess of questions.
I sink onto the couch, my legs too weak to hold me up. I replay the conversation in my head, searching for answers that aren’t there.
Samuel comes back into the room and sits down next to me. “I’ll explain everything.”
“You’d better.”
