Page 51 of 7+Us Makes Nine

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“You remember how we were talking that first night? About your ex-wife and my sister?” she asked.

“Yes?”

“Well apparently, they’ve become friends.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

She sighed and raked her fingers through her hair, dragging the bun out of it. She flipped her head over and started to put her hair back up. I walked over to her and cupped her cheeks, then raised her head all the way back up so she looked me in the eye. Her raggedy hair fell down past her shoulders as tears welled in her eyes.

“You need to talk with me. What’s going on?”

“After Michaela and I went shopping, I took her to the park. She wanted to go so badly, so we went. And then my sister called from this party because she’d skipped out on rehab and Anya was there and she took the phone and started saying all these-”

I brought her lips to mine for a kiss, trying to slow her down. She was talking too quickly, and I needed her to be as specific as she could in what was said. What had happened.

Because I was going to have to make another call to my lawyer.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m trying to be,” she said.

“Is Michaela okay?”

“Yes.”

“Are the boys okay?”

“I called their school a few minutes ago to make sure someone was with them when they get on the bus today. That no one outside of you or I are due to pick them up if that has to happen.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good. You did a good job. Now, I’m going to grab us some waters and we’re going to sit down and you’re going to slow down and start from the beginning.”

She nodded before I drew her in for a hug. My heart slammed against my chest. Whatever Anya had done, she wasn’t getting away with it. I could feel Catherine’s heart breaking against my chest. I led her over to the couch and sat her down, then I backtracked and got us some drinks. I poured them in glasses for us to hold before I made my way back to her, watching as she slumped deeper and deeper into the couch cushions.

“Here you go,” I said.

“Thanks,” she said with a whisper.

She chugged half of the glass down before she cleared her throat.

“When my sister first called from the party, I could hear nothing but music. She wasn’t supposed to be out of rehab for another couple of weeks, so I kept asking her where she was. I was going to have a cab pick her up or something. Maybe someone from the rehab center. But when she said my name, Anya was in the background and my sister started piecing things together. Asking all sorts of vulgar questions about you.”

“Trust me. As an actor, it’s probably nothi

ng I haven’t heard before,” I said.

“Then Anya got on the phone and kept referencing you as her ‘husband’. And when I corrected her, she accused me of taking her family. She kept touting how she was going to get her kids back no matter what she had to do and how I wouldn’t be able to wreck her family. That just because she was struggling didn’t mean you didn’t still love her and that I needed to get my hands off her kids because she was their mother. Not me.”

Anger boiled in my veins. This all seemed innocent enough, but I knew Anya. She was using Hannah to get to me. She probably knew exactly who that girl was and how she was related to Catherine, and was using Catherine’s own family against her. It made me sick. Anya was nothing, if not manipulative. I used to find it endearing. A ruthless woman chasing after her career and not caring about who got in her way. I thought it was empowering of her as a woman and supported it completely.

Until those manipulation tactics turned personal.

“Catherine, I need you to look at me.”

“I was going to call you after getting off the phone with the boys’ school, but my mother called. I swear you were my next phone call.”

“Catherine.”

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