Page 25 of Chasing the Other Woman

“I’m busy, Hershel. If all you’ve got to do is ream me for what you think I’ve done wrong⁠—“

“You ain’t busy, Carlisle. You’ve been staring at the desk doing fuck all since you came in here. In case you’re unaware, we can all see you through the office window.”

“I was aware,” I say, turning back to the desk as if the act of doing so will get this man off my case. “I just didn’t think anyone would find it that titillating.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Brooks.”

For a second, I think about telling him to butt out. Then I hear Tony’s voice again.

“I think there might be something between Sam and Tony.”

When Hershel doesn’t say anything, I look back at him.

He’s watching me. Unblinking.

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

“I didn’t say I know. I said think and might.”

Hershel rubs his face vigorously, then looks at me like he’s never seen me before.

“You know, Ozzy Osbourne made some questionable decisions in his lifetime, God rest his soul.”

“Hershel, if you⁠—“

“But if the good Lord saw fit to give us another concert and he popped right in here at this moment, I’m certain he’d tell you that you were a few bats short of a belfry.”

“I know what it sounds like,” I say, completely ignoring the Ozzy reference because I’ve been down that road before.

“No, you obviously don’t, because if you did, you’d beat your own ass.”

I shove to my feet, wincing as pain flashes through my side. “He texts her at midnight, Hershel. He knows how she takes her coffee. Knows she isn’t sleeping. Earlier, he came in here and told me exactly where she goes when she needs space.”

“Nothing you’ve said screams Sam’s cheating on you with Tony, Brooks. But I have one really important question: Have you actually asked Sam what’s going on?”

I look at him, not wanting to answer because I know what he’s going to say.

“Did you ask your wife one single honest question before you started building a case against her in your head?”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Hershel presses his thumb and index fingers into his eyes so hard I swear it has to hurt. Then he looks up at the ceiling, hands on his hips, and the words are faint, but I’m pretty sure they involve his long-departed mama and Jesus.

Finally, he looks back down at me. “How’d that work out for you?”

I look away.

“No, look at me.” His voice is sharp now, sharper than I’ve ever heard it. “You know what I saw at that clinic the other night?”

“Something tells me you’re gonna tell me.”

“Damn right I am. I saw Sam come through those doors looking like her world was ending. Face so white she looked like a ghost.”

I grip the edge of the desk just to stay anchored.

“And then she gets in there to you, and what does she see? Luci in your arms.”

“Luci was scared.”