Page 28 of No Turning Back
“I don’t need time to know how disgusted you make me,” I say, each word slow and deliberate. “You know what? I have an idea, why don’t you move back in with Mommy so she can raise the kid? She’s clearly desperate forher baby.”
His eyes flash. “Don’t be absurd. I’m not leaving our home.”
I smile, all teeth, no warmth. “Oh yes, you are. If you think you’re gonna stay in a houseIpaid for, you’re sadly mistaken.”
My phone buzzes in my hand. The Uber I called is around the corner. I glance down the street and spot it turning onto the block.
I start walking toward the curb, heels crunching on the driveway gravel. He follows me, his voice sharp now. “You can’t just leave; we’re not done talking.”
I turn, my expression ice. “Oh, we’re done. Witheverything.”
The car pulls up, brakes hissing. I open the door, but pause, looking back at him.
“Oh, Markus?”
He straightens a little, hope flickering in his eyes. “Yeah?”
“Fuck you.”
I slide into the car and shut the door, leaving him on the curb with nothing but the sound of the engine as we pull away.
In the long ride to my destination, anger curdles into despair. He’s having a baby. My husband is having a child with the woman he once claimed was like a sister.
God, I feel so stupid. I’d naively been proud of Markus for choosing me, for setting boundaries, for proving everyone wrong, but now I can’t help but wonder.
How long has this been going on? Has he been sleeping with her this whole time, or was it really just once?
I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. He actually thought I would want to raise that child. And Gabrielle, was she just supposed to hand over her baby because Markus decided it fit into his plan?
The Uber stops before I even realize we’ve turned onto the street. My chest feels tight, like I haven’t taken a full breath all day.
The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror. “We’re here.”
I nod, my throat too raw to speak, and fumble for the handle. The evening air hits me first, cool, sharp, smelling faintly of cut grass and rain from earlier. It should be refreshing, but it only makes me feel smaller, more fragile.
The car pulls away, leaving me in the quiet. My heels crunch on the gravel edging the driveway as I start up the short pathway.
Every step feels heavier. My mind keeps circling back, replaying Markus’s face, the way he looked ashamed but not enough to stop talking. Ashamed but still trying to make me stay. God, he actually thought I’d share a life with that woman and him, like I’d just… fold it into my life without question.
The door is only a few feet away now. My fingers curl into fists at my sides, not from anger this time, but to stop them from shaking.
I knock softly. The door swings open almost immediately, and there’s my mom. She takes one look at my face, her brows knitting in concern.
“Quinn, what’s wrong?”
I can’t get a single word out. Instead, I burst into tears and collapse into her open arms. She doesn’t press me, just wraps me tighter, one hand rubbing slow circles between my shoulder blades like she used to when I was little.
She guides me inside, closing the door with her foot. My shoulders finally stop shaking, but her blouse is already soaked through. The familiar scent of her perfume wraps around me, making it both better and worse.
We end up in the kitchen. I drop into the chair at the little table tucked against the wall, the same one I grew up eating breakfast at. Without a word, she puts the kettle on, moving with quiet efficiency.
I glance around. My mom’s house has always been warmer than my dad’s, throw blankets over every chair, mismatched mugs on the counter, sunlight trapped in the yellow curtains even after dark. And yes, they kept separate houses despite being together more often than apart.
I sniffle, thinking to myself,they had a dysfunctional relationship… but maybe it was better than what I’m going through now.
Chapter Nine
Quinn
