Page 41 of Sins of a Husband

She walks into the kitchen, her hands covered in yellow rubber gloves, holding a bucket.

“I just scrubbed your bathroom floor upstairs. So, if you go in there, be careful.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“How was school?” she asks, dumping the dirty water in the sink.

“It was good.”

“Homework?” She turns and looks at me.

“Yes, and I’m going upstairs to work on it now. I’m spending the night at Kourtney’s tonight. Her mom has to work the night shift at the hospital, and she doesn’t want to be alone. She’ll drive us to school in the morning.”

“Okay. You’re not seeing Jack tonight? Usually, you two are glued at the hip.” A playful smirk crosses her lips.

“He’s hanging with his friends tonight,” I lie.

I grab my backpack from the floor and take it to my room. I throw myself on my bed, pull out my phone, and fall down the rabbit hole of Instagram. After a while, I take out my physics book and read today’s homework assignment.

An hour into studying, my phone pings with a text from Jack.

Hey, babe. I have to cancel our plans for tonight. I’m really sick.

My heart sinks.

What’s wrong?

I was in the middle of practice and started throwing up. The coach sent me home early. I barely made it home before I threw up again. I’m sorry.

That’s okay. I hope you feel better. I can bring you some chicken soup.

That’s sweet of you, babe, but I don’t want you coming anywhere near me. I don’t want you to catch this bug. I’m going to lie down now and try to sleep. My stomach is killing me. I’ll talk to you later. I love you.

I love you too, Jack. Feel better. Text me if you need anything.

Disappointment courses through me. Shit. Now, what do I tell my mom? I climb off the bed and head downstairs.

“Hey, Mom.” I walk into the kitchenwhere she’s cooking dinner. “Change of plans. Kourtney just texted me that her mom is sick and she’s not going to work tonight.”

“Okay, sweetie.” She smiles. “Oh, by the way. Your father just called. Your car is ready, and he’s picking it up after work from the mechanic.

“Thank God. I hate depending on people for rides.”

After dinner, I went upstairs and texted Jack. After waiting a while, I texted him again. He must still be sleeping and really sick. Poor Jack. I hope he’s better tomorrow.

I hear my alarm sound,reach over, and turn it off. Rolling over, I grab my phone and look at it, expecting to see text messages from Jack. Nothing. He never responded to my text messages last night.

I get up and dress for school. Jack doesn’t show up, and he won’t text me back. I can’t help but worry about him all day. I’ll stop by his house when school lets out and check on him.

School is over, and I still haven’t heard from Jack. I pull out of the school parking lot and head to his house. When I turn on his street, several police cars take up most of the space outside his home. I see his parents in the driveway. They must have returned from their trip this afternoon. His mom is shaking and screaming, and his dad, who is visibly upset, tries to comfort her.

I climb out of my car and run down the sidewalk to their house. A police officer stops me.

“I’m sorry, miss. You can’t go any further. This is a crime scene.”

A crime scene? What the hell is he talking about?

“Mr. and Mrs. Dillard!” I shout as the police officer holds me back.

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