The Truth About Mallory Bain Read Online Free Page B

was close to the dental clinic where I worked as a hygienist. The apartment was plain. It left us wanting the amenities of our home—the backyard that once housed Caleb’s playset, fully loaded with swings, a slide, a glider, and a fort on top with a three-color flag. The cramped apartment with sterile white walls took some getting used to.
    We watched a TV from the 1990s that one of Chad’s aunts found stored in her garage. We sat on beanbags and took our meals at a card table and chairs in the dining area off the galley kitchen. I slept nicely on an air mattress from Walmart until the divorce. No way did I want our bedroom set, especially the bed Chad had defiled. I’d have a normal bed again while living at Mom’s.
    â€œI hope Chad stopped by this morning like he promised.”
    I slid my hand into the side pocket of my pants for my phone. “Sent a text instead. ‘Nice you’re moving home to your mother and nice you’re getting far away from Memphis and me. Best of luck. Have a nice life. I know you’ll finally get the great one you deserved.’”
    â€œSickening, if you ask me.” Mom narrowed her eyes. “The stinking jackass.”
    My brow lifted, and I smirked. “You are too kind. I call him much worse in my head.” I pressed delete before shoving the phone back into my pocket.
    Mom sniffled and frowned. “I wish you hadn’t married him.”
    â€œLesson learned. I do think he did me a big favor making it easy for me to get out of our marriage. This time, I think he cheated hoping I’d catch him.”
    â€œHe deliberately pushed you into divorce?”
    â€œI’m sure. I’d been reluctant to leave because divorce might hurt Caleb.”
    I now needed to find a delicate way to tell Mom and my family Caleb was not Chad’s son. There were times when people in my family held an outmoded sense of propriety, which was odd considering my parents came from the love generation. I entered my teen years knowing full well my parents understood
other
people engaged in free love, not them or their children.
    Sitting in the kitchen late at night wasn’t the ideal time for discussing those serious matters. I needed sleep, not a long and tearful conversation.
    Mom’s tea mug clinked against her plate of untouched toast when she set it down. “At least you were smart enough not to spend a lifetime with him.”
    She knew better than to offer shallow comments like “you’ll find someone new.” Finding a special someone came and went years ago. Ben giving me Caleb was his greatest gift. Pity he died not knowing our little boy was on his way.
    Surely my family would understand why Chad and I kept Caleb’s paternity secret when we were married. No point keeping the matter secret after the divorce. Funny how I emphasized
the
divorce as though the decree was beyond our choice, a terrible arrangement killing our love. Honestly, I question how much love ever existed in our marriage. Definitely not the enduring love Ben and I once shared. Chad Powers took responsibility for a little baby whose daddy died, until he had enough.
    We shared friendship at the start. Chad did his best to woo me. When friendship never evolved into a marriage with a fawning and doting wife that he assumed was part of the deal, he searched elsewhere for the kind of fawning and doting he wanted.
    He did board a flight to Minneapolis the day I told him Ben was dead. He stood by me when grief consumed me, when I cried to the extent I thought I might die, too.
    Dana and I drove him from the airport to our friend Erik Fowler’s apartment. During the drive, she suggested Chad take me to his parent’s home in Collierville, Tennessee, for the summer.Persuading me to go was easy. I’d quit eating and cried all the time. I might have lost the baby.
    Chad had known I was pregnant long before anyone else. He convinced me being born into a family