Playboy's Secret Wife novel · Chapter 4 of 24

Chapter 4: Her Own Front Door

"Get out of my robe," I said.

Dee set the mug down very gently.

"Cal, please don't yell."

"I'm not yelling."

"You're doing the thing with your jaw."

"Get out of my robe, Dee."

She stood up.

Her belly showed under my grey fleece, small and round.

I hadn't known it would hurt so much to see it in person.

"I used my key," she said.

"I was going to leave a note."

"You have a key to my apartment?"

"Trent gave it to me."

"It's Trent's apartment, Cal."

"The lease is in his name."

"I didn't want you to hear that from a stranger."

Her eyes were wet, and her voice was soft and warm.

It was the same voice she'd used when my dad died.

I had cried into it for a whole week.

"You should have called me first," I said.

"I know."

"You should have called me before the shower."

"I know," Dee said, and started to cry for real.

"We never meant for it to happen like that."

"It just happened."

"A baby doesn't just happen."

"Cal."

The front door opened behind me.

Trent walked in with his gym bag on one shoulder and a cardboard box in his arms.

My hairdryer stuck out of the top of it.

He stopped when he saw me.

He had the nerve to look annoyed.

"You're back," he said.

"Good. We need to talk about move-out dates."

"Move-out dates."

"Dee's due in March."

"We want the nursery set up by Christmas."

"I've been generous, Callie."

"I let you stay three days."

Behind him, the hallway door stood open.

The old woman from 3B was out there, pretending to water a plant that was plastic.

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