Page 49 of Nineteen Eighty

They turned to leave as Rory’s car pulled off, but Noah stopped. “Is that Colin? And Cat?”

Colleen followed his gaze, to where another familiar car appeared, from the opposite direction. She watched it pass down the one-way lanes on Jackson, pulling a U-turn at the light to park in front of The Gardens. “Yes… I think so.” She checked the clock behind her. “It’s nearly eleven. What do you think this is about?”

“I couldn’t guess,” he said, but jogged down the steps to meet them.

The couple exited the car. Colin, who normally went around to open Catherine’s door, instead paced several steps ahead of her. Catherine lagged behind, arms wrapped around herself in clear discomfort.

“Oh good, you’re up,” Colin said and pushed past them both, without waiting for an invite, toward the door. Catherine followed, flashing an only slightly-guilty look.

Colleen looked at Noah. He shrugged. She sighed.

She closed the door behind all four of them, and before she could ask, Colin said:

“We need your help with something. Something unusual. Something, I think, only you can help with.”

“Please,” Catherine added, and Colleen didn’t like the way the word sounded almost like begging.

“I’m pregnant.”

Charles had just gotten his belt off when the words ripped through his skull.

“I’m sorry… I thought you said—”

“I did say. I’m pregnant,” Angelique barked. She made no move to unwrap her robe. “It’s yours.”

“How can you be so damn sure?”

“I know who I am and am not sleeping with,” she said. “My husband and I haven’t shared a bed since before Jesse was born. Doubt we’ll share one again.”

Charles shook his head. “Okay, and?”

Angelique dropped her hands on the table. “What the hell do you mean, and?”

“And, are we gonna fuck or what?”

“Are you dense? Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

“You’re pregnant,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I’ll pay to fix it. Doesn’t have to ruin our day.”

Angelique pulled her shoulders back. “You have some goddamn nerve, Charles. Some real goddamn nerve.”

He laughed. “You can’t intend to keep it.”

“I can. And I do.”

Charles’ laughter ripped through the quiet, décor-less room. “You don’t think your husband will notice a second little kid running around, that’s not his?”

“No,” Angelique said, never missing a beat. “I don’t think he’ll notice anything because I intend to divorce him. Just as you’ll divorce your wife.”

“That’s not what this is.”

“It might not have been before, but it is now.”

“Are you crazy, woman?”

“Are you?”

Charles re-buckled his belt. He searched for his sport coat. It was incredible to him how fast he could fall out of lust, but he had. Whatever welcome insanity she’d brought to his life was now poison. She was poison. This rickety shack in the bayou was poison.

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