The Regrettable Mistake: Cheating Hearts Series, #2

Prologue - Steph

Did men bring flowers on a first date anymore?

Ollie surprised me by showing up with beautiful pink and orange peonies. They were gorgeous but he offered me no time to appreciate the gesture. Was that both a red and a green flag all at once? Thoughtful but impatient?

First dates were hard for me to navigate. They were probably not a blast for anyone, but I got on much better with children than adults. They were brutally honest, but offered hugs and smiles in return. Adults were sometimes cruelly honest and rarely offered apologies, let alone hugs and smiles. Adults, for the most part, sucked.

I was still on the fence about my date.

You look lovely, Ollie complimented. I was wearing my favorite, cream-colored flowy skirt that reached my ankles. I had opted for a billowy top to go with it, but my twin nixed it and told me to go with the body suit to highlight my womanly curves for once instead of hiding underneath a potato sack. Judging from the appreciation in Ollie’s eyes, if not his tone, my brother had not steered me wrong.

Thank you, I offered as I pushed my long, dirty blond beach waves off my face. You look good as well. My compliment was genuine. Ollie wore tan slacks and a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. Between the two of us, we looked like we just stepped off a set filmed in a tropical location instead of heading on an early dinner date in June in Summerset, Virginia.

Our town was mid-sized at the base of the Blue Ridge Parkway and boasted that small town feel with all the modern conveniences like Ubers and delivery services. It made us a prime vacation destination for tourists who wanted to get away and see nature, but not too far away from civilization to be inconvenienced. Ollie’s brown hair was styled short and almost business like, which fit as he was a business owner. His brown eyes seemed a bit colder and distant than I imagined from his picture.

Is there anything you don’t eat? Ollie asked me as he opened the car door for me to get in.

No, I’m fairly adventurous with foods. He smiled in answer and closed the door behind me once I was settled.

I watched as he walked around the front of the car, noting that even his button-up shirt didn’t hide the amazing physique beneath it. The man spent ample time in a gym setting because there was no way to have a body that fine without putting in the work.

So, you never did say what brought you to campus the day we met.

I guest lecture for a few business courses and have access to the gym on campus as one of the perks.

Oh, I’ve never seen you there before, I commented while thinking back. I don’t usually go for the weight room, though. My preferred workout is swimming in the pool.

Swimming or playing? He asked, and it almost sounded a bit judgmental.

Both, actually. I swim for exercise a few times a week but I also joined an intramural water polo team during my sophomore year and continued until our season ended a month ago.

His lips quirked up as he turned to take me in again. You seem more peace, love, and happiness than trying to drown your fellow opponents in a pool so you can score points.

And you seem too buttoned-up to know about the dirtier side of water polo matches. I winked at him before he turned his attention back to the road. Looks can be deceiving, I tacked on.

Fair point.

By the time we were mid-way through our meal, I’d learned that Ollie, otherwise known as Oliver Burton, was 27, a business owner, and never married. He was also somewhat cold and to the point about everything.

I texted my twin when Ollie got up to go use the restroom.

Steph: Might need a rescue. This guy is about as much fun as watching paint dry.

Stevie: Damn. You really know how to pick ‘em. This is the third dud in a row.

Steph: Thanks for pointing out how sad and alone I am.

Stevie: Someone has to keep it real for you. I can give you a call in 10 minutes.

Steph: Yes, please.

When Ollie made his way back to the table and sat down, he seemed less than thrilled to see that I was still at the table. I pulled my napkin off my lap and placed it on my half eaten food. My sigh properly stifled, I was about to tell Ollie that I’d find my own ride back. There was no need for excuses at that point.

Look, I started, but he interrupted me.

Sorry, I haven’t been the best date and I know it. My son isn’t feeling well and I’ve been worried.

Your son? I questioned as no one, Ollie included, bothered to tell me the man was also a dad.

He nodded. I have a four-year-old. His mother left when he was six-months.

Four is an amazing age. They’re so vibrant. At least, they are when they’re not picking up every germ known to man. I smiled at him, suddenly far more forgiving than I had been before.

I take it you like kids then. Do you have any?

No children for me yet, except the ones I work with.

You work with children? Ollie’s interest picked up and for the first time, the conversation seemed to have a little bit of life instead of seeming like someone was reading a boring resume out loud.

I have been interning in a preschool setting for the past semester. Before that, I worked with infants and toddlers in an after-hours daycare for parents who work evenings and nights. My degree, that I graduate with in less than a month, is in early childhood education.

Oh, I see. It’s one thing to work with other people’s children, but how do you feel about dating a single father? He seemed almost nervous about my answer.

Once we leave the high school days behind, everyone has some sort of past they bring into a relationship. Sometimes, that involves children. It wouldn’t bother me so long as you have a healthy coparenting relationship with your son’s mother and nothing else.

It was my way of cautioning Ollie that I wouldn’t step into his sphere if there was still unfinished business between the two of them.

Well, that would be hard to do since Julia left when Den was six months old to go try to make it in Hollywood. She’s never been back. So, I don’t even have a coparenting relationship with my son’s mother, or any kind of relationship at all.

I’m sorry to hear that, for your son’s sake. I can’t imagine ever willingly leaving my own child for something so… I swallowed my words because even if he was angry with the woman for the choices she’d made, it wasn’t my place to label her actions for him.

Selfish? He asked.

I shrugged my shoulders sheepishly. Sorry, I work with little ones every day whose parents would rather be home with them than having to work multiple jobs to survive.

It’s okay, trust me when I say, I get it. Over the past three and a half years since she took off, I have vacillated between angry, contemptuous, and thankful that at least she did it before he was old enough to really know and bond with her.

I’m sorry she did that to both of you. He nodded his head and tucked into his food for a minute. What do you hope to do with your degree?

I want to work in the school system, most likely with preschool or kindergarten-aged children.

Why that age?

I don’t know, they’re just so full of hope and it is the time in their life where they’re little explorers, ready to get into everything just for the experience. It’s something that gets stifled a bit with each year older we get and they’re at the prime age where most things are still new, but they’re old enough to form those core memories from everything they learn. It’s almost magical when you think about it.

Ollie offered me the first full, real smile of our date at that point. I love how you describe what I’ve failed to put into words more often than I can count. Everyone always wants to look to the future where their kids are concerned, but I wish I could freeze time for Denmark right where he is, at least for a little longer.

My mom always used to tell us that every time she turned around or blinked time had moved on and my brother and I were already older again.

Are you and your brother close?

As two people who shared a womb can be, I suppose.

You’re a twin? He seemed shocked by that news.

Yes, fraternal obviously, since we’re different genders.

Doesn’t that run in the family?

It can. Don’t worry, we haven’t even agreed to a second date yet. There’s no need to worry about twin toddler terrors in the future. His laughter in response to me teasing him lit my heart on fire. It made him seem far more carefree and approachable than the Ollie I started my date with.

My phone rang and I glanced down to see it was my brother. Speak of the devil, I stated.

You can get that, if you need to.

I shook my head and shot a quick text to my brother telling him the crisis was averted.

Can I be honest with you?

I prefer honesty to lies.

Okay, well, this date was going nowhere before you came back to the table. My brother was trying to give me an out just now.

You no longer want to take that out? He asked curiously, though I didn’t miss the humor in his tone.

No, I don’t think I do. You did mention your son isn’t feeling well, though. Maybe we should end this date on a good note and try again soon.

I’d love that. You beat me to the punch in asking for a second date, though.

You sound like that’s never happened to you before.

I’m sure it has, but it seems more memorable because you’re bowing out early for my son’s sake. I have to say, that earns you points in my book.

Well, that’s good because being the man who puts his parental responsibilities first earns you some in mine as well.

CHAPTER 1

Steph

FOUR YEARS LATER

I stared at our wedding photo, willing it to divulge my husband’s secrets to me. Did he really love me that day or was our marriage one of convenience? If so, it would have been a convenience for him alone, since no one ever filled me in on the plan.

We appeared to be happy and in love in the photo. His smile was just as bright as my own. Our arms wrapped around one another just moments before our lips met as we shared that first kiss as a married couple. I chose that particular photo to frame because of the promise it held. The vows were still fresh, the deal not yet sealed, but you could see the hope of a wonderful future staring back at each of those two people from the other’s eyes.

That’s what I’d always seen when I stared at the picture.

Now, I searched it for any detail that might prove my initial assessment was complete bullshit. My brother claimed the signs were always there. He thinks I was just too lust-drunk to notice the cold detachment my man offered me or the way Ollie used to leave me at my doorstep, like he was happy to relinquish the burden back when we dated. I thought it was just him being reserved. He was a single father and successful businessman. Ollie was five years older than me, but the gap in our experience levels when we first started dating felt more infinite.

He was older, wiser, more experienced, and already a single dad. I was the fresh-faced girl about to graduate with a degree in early childhood education. In retrospect, our first date hadn’t really gone that well. It honestly felt more like a job interview right up until I told him what my degree was and that I would graduate in just a few weeks.

That was the tipping point in our first date where his demeanor changed from cursory curiosity to one of interest. At first, Ollie explained that he was concerned for his son who was home sick. Later, during our second date, he explained he had dated before but so many women were just after him for his money that he was honestly a little gun shy. It was supposedly my raw enthusiasm as I talked about working with young children that made him change his mind about me.

It wasn’t like I would get some big payout if I had been a gold digger in disguise. Before we married, I’d been made to sign a prenup stating that I would basically get nothing if we divorced before the fifteenth year of marriage. It hadn’t been lost on my brother that Ollie’s son, Den would be an adult and off to college or starting a career by the time the fifteen year mark rolled around.

I had been in love by then and wouldn’t hear of any duplicity on Ollie’s part. Now, I wondered. The cracks in our foundation had always been there and my naivety had blinded me to them

Momma Steph? Den, Ollie’s now eight-year-old son, called out to me. He’d been in my life, practically attached at my hip, since I started dating his dad four years ago. Ollie and I had been married for a little over three years, but he had moved me in with them just four months after we started dating. As a result, Denmark had gotten used to calling me Momma Steph. I didn’t mind, and his biological mother had never come around to make a stink about it. Truthfully, if it wasn’t for his father’s instance on the Steph part of that title, Den would have simply called me Momma for the past couple years.

He often told people that I was his mother, especially at school. The only time that fact was ever refuted was when Ollie was around to correct it. He made it clear that I was a step parent only, and even if that was the truth, it was still hurtful how quick he was to correct anyone who assumed different. It wasn’t like the woman who abandoned her son when he was a year old should hold the precious title of mother. In my book, no woman who would abandon their child for their own selfish reasons was deserving of that title.

Ollie wouldn’t hear of it, though. So, whenever he was around, I was Momma Steph. For a while, I allowed Den to just call me Mom or Momma when no one was around to hear him. It only took one slip up on Den’s part for his father to fix that behavior.

In a way, I understood. He didn’t want to confuse his son, in case the woman who birthed him ever showed up again. Ollie seemed to hold out hope that it would happen one day, and who was I to deny him the hope that Den would one day be able to have a healthy, happy relationship with his mother?

What’s going on Denny-boy?

He rolled his eyes, as he usually did when I called him that, but he still wasn’t able to hold back the grin that sprouted on his face when he heard it.

I’m getting hungry, do we have to keep waiting for Dad? What if he doesn’t come again?

No, baby. I’ll fix you something. I turned and moved to the kitchen to go make Den a plate. I swore I’d only give Ollie an hour today, and I meant it. Next time, it would be thirty minutes grace. Then, we would simply stop waiting for him to show up for dinner with us.

Why hasn’t dad been home?

I wish I knew the answer to that question. The only reason I hadn’t panicked and reached out to the police was because his assistant informed me he was simply bogged down in meetings and would get in touch as soon as it was possible. I didn’t believe that for a minute. There were no meetings that lasted a solid 72-hours, which was what we were going on at that point. Not to mention, he obviously had time to speak to his assistant, just not his wife.

He’s been very busy at work, honey.

Dad’s never too busy for me. Den’s insistence of that fact was true enough. Normally, Ollie would at least call and say good night to his son on the rare occasions when he had to go on an out-of-town trip. Though, those rare occasions had turned into more of an all-the-time thing these past few months.

I think maybe his work is extra hard this time, Denny-Boy. You know your father loves you, no matter what.

I know. I miss him, though, he pouted. It broke my heart to see that lip poke out and little tears form in his eyes. He was at an age where he was trying to be ‘a man’ and not show emotion too much. I rolled my eyes at the thought, but it made his father proud of him.

Eat up and then I’ll let you play an hour of Minecraft.

A whole hour? Den’s eyes grew comically wide. Ollie wasn’t a fan of the game and didn’t like for his son to play it too much, as he deemed it was a waste. Once in a while, I had to remind the man that his son was still a child and needed creative play time, not just organized sports, as an outlet.

I promise.

What if Dad comes home?

I’ll handle him, I offered with a wink that made the little boy smile as he tucked into his soup and sandwich.

I had planned to make a full meal again tonight, but when I didn’t hear from my husband, everything remained in