Chapter Nine
It took Phil less than two hours to realize he was in over his head. He may have fathered three other children, but it was Lina who’d fed them, bathed them, and changed their diapers. His role with baby rearing had consisted of him handing them over to Lina whenever they needed something more than a toss in the air or a game of peekaboo.
He was at the sink, running a wet cloth over a carrot stain on his dress shirt, when Liam, who was in his high chair, decided to put applesauce in his hair. “Jesus Christ.” Phil sighed, crossing to him. “Why are you doing that?”
“Gaah, gaah,” Liam shouted, continuing to rub his hands through his hair.
“It’s for eating.” Phil removed the tray from the high chair before unstrapping Liam. “You’re a mess.” He carried him to the sink.
Liam slapped one of his applesauce-covered hands against his father’s head as he gurgled with laughter. “Baah.” Liam’s other hand gripped Phil’s tie.
“Are you always this bad?”
Liam’s answer was another slap to Phil’s head.
Phil turned on the faucet and managed to clean off Liam’s hands and get most of the applesauce from his hair. In the process he drenched his own shirt and Liam’s outfit. “I think you need a bath.”
He carried him to the nursery and set him in his crib. Liam immediately began to wail in protest. “I’m not putting you to bed,” Phil reassured him as he tugged at the knot of his tie. “Just a second, buddy. Daddy needs to take off his shirt.” He finished removing his tie and wet shirt before stripping off Liam’s clothes.
He realized when they reached the bathroom that he’d never given one of his children a bath. He couldn’t recall ever even changing a diaper. He pulled back the shower curtain and noticed a blue plastic tub. He vaguely remembered Lina using something similar to bathe their kids.
Thirty minutes, several towels, and three diapers later, Phil had bathed, diapered, and dressed Liam in a long-sleeved onesie. “You’re a good boy, aren’t you?” Phil asked him as he heated his bottle.
Liam fingered the sleeve of Phil’s undershirt, staring up at him with sleep-filled eyes.
“It’s almost ready, buddy.” Phil brushed his lips over Liam’s forehead.
Phil was on the couch in the family room, watching a twenty-four-hour news channel, with Liam asleep on his chest. Despite their limited time together, he felt the same pulsating connection to him that he’d felt for his other children. It was as if something deeper than just his conscious mind knew that he was his father.
He carefully transported Liam from the family room to his nursery, placing him in his crib before quietly leaving his room. It was after ten. He sent Kim a quick text asking when she’d be home. Ten minutes later there was still no response.
It was after midnight when Phil heard the sound of the front door opening. He was off the couch and halfway down the hall before Kim stepped into the foyer. “Where the fuck have you been?” he bit out. “You said ten o’clock.”
“You scared me,” she said, bringing her hand to her chest.
“It’s after midnight.”
“Sorry. The meeting went longer than I expected.” Her gaze dropped to his undershirt. “Is that an invitation?”
“You’re two hours late,” he snarled.
“I was in a meeting.” She pressed her hand against the wall as she slipped off her shoes. “I could make it up to you if you’d like.”
“Don’t play with me.”
“I’m not playing,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You can take me right here.”
“Next time you tell me you’re going to be home at a certain time, you better fucking be home,” he warned before slamming out of her apartment.
“Phil?” Lina’s sleep-filled voice greeted him when he stepped into the kitchen from the mudroom.
He crossed to the family room, where she was lying on the couch under a comforter. “What are you doing down here?”
“I fell asleep.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Where’s your shirt?”
He looked down at his undershirt. “It got wet when I was rinsing applesauce off of him.”
“You took it off in her apartment.”
“Yes.”
“And then you left it there?”
“Not intentionally. I was in a hurry to get out of there.”
“She saw you like that?”
“I was drenched. Would you prefer I spend the evening in a wet shirt?”
“Yes. I think I would.” She got up from the couch and headed for the front of the house.
“Lina?” He jogged to catch up with her. “Come on.” He caught her arm as they reached the stairs. “Don’t be like this.”
“Like what?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Upset that you took your shirt off at another woman’s house or that you left your shirt at another woman’s house?”
“Do you really think if I took off my shirt to fuck her, I’d leave it there?” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. The pain in her eyes was like a knife in his heart. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t follow me,” she said before fleeing up the stairs.
He gripped the banister, staring down at the floor as he mentally berated himself for his insensitivity. “Fuck.”
“Dad?”
He lifted his eyes to find Logan, looking half asleep, standing at the top of the staircase. “What are you doing up?”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Why was Mom upset?”
“We just had a misunderstanding. It’s nothing for you to worry about.” He began to ascend the stairs. “It’s late,” he said when he reached the top. “Why don’t you go back to bed?”
“She told you not to follow her,” Logan said, shifting slightly so he blocked his path.
“Go to bed, Logan.”
Logan shook his head, a blush staining his cheeks. “She said—”
“This is between me and your mother,” Phil interrupted, trying to keep a rein on his temper. “Get out of my way. I’m not going to tell you again.”
“It’s okay, Logan,” Lina called out from down the hall. “I’m fine.”
Phil waited for her to go back into their bedroom before returning his attention to Logan. “I know you mean well,” he said, “but don’t ever try to block my path again. Is that clear?” His eyes widened as he stared into Logan’s eyes. “Is it?”
“Yeah,” Logan answered, dropping his gaze.
Lina was in their bed, curled onto her side facing away from the door, when Phil entered their bedroom. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive and thoughtless.”
“I just want to go to sleep.”
“Baby—”
“It’s one o’clock in the morning. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
When he stretched out beside her ten minutes later, he knew she was still awake. She was holding her body too stiffly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said as he curved his body into the back of hers. “The thought of her—of being with her—repulses me. I forget that you aren’t in my head, knowing how I feel. Forgive me.” He felt her body relax back into his.
“It’s just—the way you said it. It made me think about the times you were with her and then you got dressed and came home to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I hate that you have to see her—that you talk to her.”
“I know.” He tightened his hold around her. “I don’t like seeing her either. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
***
By the time Lina got herself out of bed and into the shower the following morning it was almost eleven, so she took the day off, deciding to catch up on errands before the long holiday weekend. She was in Phil’s wardrobe, gathering his suits to take to the dry cleaner, when she felt a slip of paper in the interior pocket of one of his jackets. Her heart began to pound when she realized it was a receipt from Victoria’s Secret. She let the jacket fall to the floor as she left his wardrobe, her eyes glued to the paper in her hand. He’d spent three hundred and eighty dollars at a women’s lingerie store.
She sat down on the end of the bed, her hand shaking slightly as she continued to stare at the receipt. It was a memento from his time with Kim. There was no other explanation. A wave of nausea hit her at the thought of him choosing sexy lingerie for his mistress. She crinkled the paper up in her hand. It was over. She wasn’t going to let her mind go back there. Forward. Phil had said they would move forward together. She would throw it away and not give it another moment of her energy.
The receipt was still clenched in her fist when she stepped out into the garage. Her mind became her enemy, suddenly desiring to know what Phil had bought Kim. She opened her hand, staring at the crumpled ball of paper in her palm. Instead of tossing it into the trash can, she carefully opened the receipt.
He’d bought her three items, but Lina couldn’t make out what they were from the abbreviations. The receipt was from the Victoria’s Secret in the Inner Harbor. It was walking distance from his office. The time stamp on the receipt was twelve thirty in the afternoon. He’d left his office and gone to a lingerie store in the middle of a workday. Anger bubbled in her chest at the thought of him carrying a bag of gifts for Kim into his law office. The purchases had been made in April. A little more than a year ago. No. She caught her breath when her eyes zeroed in on the date. The receipt wasn’t a year old. It was a month old.