Page 22 of Open Secrets (Infidelity #5)

Lyle — A week later.

“What?” Maria practically screams the next Saturday.

“I know,” I say, hands up.

“It cannot take a year.”

“Apparently it does.”

She stares at me like I’ve just grown two heads. “So, what happens in this year? Do they still deploy you?”

I shake my head. “Technically, they can’t. I’ve been set for home post. This is more like a transition requirement. Time to find housing and shit. They’re also gonna make sure I’m financially and medically and in other ways ready for civilian life.”

Maria scoffs. “You know how to be a civilian.”

I shrug. “Nothing I can do. I already asked if they could expedite it. Now it’s just a waiting game.”

“This sucks,” she pouts.

I grin. “I’m still gonna be home.”

Her pout deepens, exaggerated. “Now that we don’t have debt, I was looking forward to laying on a beach with you somewhere.”

“Me too, dammit.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “I can’t believe this is actually happening. I mean—you’re home, we’re debt free, your parents are around, Anna is letting me chose my dress. Life is blessed.”

I put my hands on her biceps and pull her close until her forehead bumps my chest. “We are blessed. And you’re still going to therapy.”

She blows a raspberry against my shirt like one of the kids. “Why do I have to? Dr. Nina wants me to go see my dad.”

“You want to see him?” I ask.

“Of course I do. He doesn’t. I’ll just drive all the way over there and he’ll tell me no again.”

I kiss the top of her head. “You know I’d love to go with you.”

“I know. But someone’s gotta be here for the kids. Speaking of—when will they be here?”

I check my watch. “Probably soon. My dad’s not allowed to drive in the dark anymore.”

“Well, I’m gonna take a shower,” Maria announces.

Before she can make a run for it, I catch her wrist. “You showered this morning. Come on, you can’t avoid them forever.”

“I can,” she mutters under her breath, already darting up the stairs.

I shake my head, smiling after her. My phone buzzes. I fish it from my pocket, already half-expecting a reminder from my CO or some Army admin.

But the name on the screen makes the smile die in my throat.

I’m outside xx.

It’s from someone I never expected to hear from again.

Ever.

I glance up, the sound of water rushing in the upstairs pipes. Maria’s in the shower.

Quietly, I grab my coat and slip out.

The car isn’t hard to spot—sleek, black, parked under the streetlamp like it’s been waiting. I cross the road and slide into the passenger seat.

In the driver’s seat sits CeCe. Very obviously—and very heavily—pregnant.

I force myself not to look at her belly. My jaw locks. “Why are you here? I told you to leave me alone.”

She smiles, that cunning little tilt of her lips I once mistook for mischief. “Did you really think you could just retire without telling me, Captain Connelly?”

I grit my teeth. “Why the fuck would I tell you?”

Her smile widens, slow and deliberate. One hand drifts to her stomach.

“Well, dear,” she purrs, “what do you expect me to do with our son ?”

My mouth drops. “You and I both know that cannot be mine.”

She tilts her head, smiling like a cat with a cornered mouse. “There almost was once.”

I glare at her. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want what I’m owed,” she says easily. “I stayed on my back for you a lot over the last few years. Consider it my retirement too.”

My stomach twists, but I hold her gaze. “I’m not paying you.”

“Really?” Her smile sharpens. “What will happen if I go to your commander and tell him this baby is yours?”

“It’s not. A simple paternity test will prove it.”

Her eyes glitter. “The first question they’ll ask is if you’ve fucked me. And we both know the answer to that. Do you really want the whole world to know that you and precious Maria had an open marriage?”

I shake my head slowly. “People already know.”

She leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you really willing to admit it on paper—for a few thousand dollars?”

I press my palms to my knees, forcing myself not to explode. “I don’t have any money.”

“Then find it,” she says smoothly, nails drumming against the steering wheel. “Don’t make me the bad guy here.”

I let out a sharp laugh, humourless. “You already are the bad guy, CeCe.”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “No, darling. I’m just a woman protecting herself. If you don’t want trouble, you’ll make sure I’m taken care of.”

My jaw clenches so hard it aches. “You’re blackmailing me with a kid that isn’t even mine.”

She leans back, stroking her stomach like she knows it’s making me sweat. “All anyone will care about is the story. The captain who abandoned his mistress and her baby. Not whether it’s true.”

Heat crawls up my neck. I want to slam the door and walk away, but her voice hooks me in place.

“You don’t want Maria finding out this way, do you?” she adds, almost sweet. “Because she will. One way or another.”

My fist slams against the dashboard, rattling the air vents. “You think you can ruin my family with your lies? Go ahead and try.”

For a second her confidence wavers, just a hair.

I lean in, my voice dropping to a low, steady burn. “Because when the people at the base find out what you’ve done—trying to trap me, ruin me—I’m guessing your well of favours will dry up real fast.”

The smile on her face flickers, then hardens again. “You think you’re untouchable.”

“No,” I say, gripping the door handle. “I just know liars like you always end up choking on their own stories.”

I push the door open, the cold air hitting my face like a slap. I lean back in through the window just long enough to say, “If you come after me, I will come after you.”

Then I step out.

Instead of heading inside, I stand on the curb, watching as CeCe pulls away—her eyes locked on me in a glare that promises this isn’t over. Her taillights shrink and vanish down the street.

And right then, another set of headlights swings into the cul-de-sac. Perfect. My parents’ car. August’s head is hanging out the back window like a golden retriever. Great. Now I’m gonna have to yell at him.

I don’t get the chance. Maria appears out of nowhere on the porch, and August’s head snaps back inside faster than lightning. We share a look as the car parks at the curb.

The doors pop open—Remi, Taylor, and Rain tumble out, August trying to sneak past both of us.

“August.” My voice comes out stern, and his shoulders hunch as he stomps over to stand in front of me.

Maria takes the other kids inside, leaving me to deal with him. I kneel down, meeting his wide eyes. “What have I said about hanging your head out the car window?”

“But it’s fun,” he protests, his voice small. “Like my face is gonna blow off.”

I keep my face serious. “Do you know what’ll happen if another car comes close? Your head will fall off.”

Now, I know what you’re thinking—pretty grim for a kid. But this is the same kid who somehow found a way to binge all eleven seasons of The Walking Dead , and we still haven’t figured out how.

His eyes go wide. “Really?”

I nod gravely. “And you know how much that would hurt me and your mom?”

He nods fast.

“So will you promise never to do it again?”

“Yes, sir,” he blurts, then scurries off with a quick “sorry.”

I stand up, dusting off my knees—and there they are. My parents. Standing on the sidewalk like ghosts I can’t shake.

“You’re a good dad,” my mom says, smiling.

I shrug, cheeks heating. “Whatever.”

She pats my shoulder. “Will you give me a minute?” Then she heads toward the house, the door swinging shut behind her.

Uh oh. Guess Maria can’t hide anymore.

I turn back to my dad. On cue, both of us drag our hands over our heads, like two men trying to avoid saying the wrong thing. I clear my throat. “How’s life?”

“Great,” he says. “Now that I can see my grandkids again.”

I raise an eyebrow. “You really wanna go there?”

He looks away.

“Dad,” I start, the words tangling in my throat, “can I ask you something?”

He nods, cautious.

“I have this buddy…” I say trailing of because I’m unsure of how to phrase it.

His brow furrows. “You looking for a way to tell me your problem without telling me your problem?”

I purse my lips. “Yeah.”

His silence tells me to go on.

I exhale. “I slept with this woman. A few years ago. Quite a few times. She got clingy so I broke up with her. Now she’s claiming she’s pregnant with my kid and threatening to go to command. How do I stop her?”

He just stares at me. No words. Just that sharp, judgmental stare. Then—

Bam.

As I lay flat on the ground, cheek burning from his punch, all I can think is— not fun being on the receiving end.

Instead of helping me up, my dad looms over me. His voice is cold, thunderous. “You cheated on your wife. On the mother of your children.”

He pulls his leg back like he’s about to kick me.

“I didn’t!” I shout, scrambling up onto my elbows. “Okay—we have an open marriage. Had. ”

He sneers. “What kind of new-age bullshit is that?”

“It’s like—we were allowed to see other people. Sleep with them.” My words stumble out, desperate, stupid. “It’s done now. We ended that.”

My dad squints at me, eyes sharp as glass. “You let your wife sleep with other men?”

Before I can answer, his boot connects with my ribs.

“Jesus, Dad!” I curl in on myself, the breath knocked out. Another kick whistles past as I roll away and scramble up to my feet. “Will you just—” I throw my hands up. “Forget it.”

I turn to walk away.

“Wait,” he pants.

I stop, half-expecting him to throw a rock at my back.

But instead, he’s bent over, hands braced on his knees, chest heaving. He looks up at me, his face pale under the porch light. “I don’t get your bullshit,” he rasps. “But you can’t stop her. I’m guessing this woman found out you’re retiring and wanted to blackmail you.”

“Yeah,” I admit, voice flat. “But I don’t care. I’m quitting anyway.”

My father shakes his head, lips pressing tight. “It’s not about people knowing. It’s about your benefits.”

I blink. “What?”

“If command believes you disrespected the uniform,” he says slowly, “they can pull your benefits. Strip your pension. General discharge you.”

My blood runs cold. “What the fuck?” I snap. “How the hell is my sex life related to the uniform?”

His eyebrow lifts, almost pitying.

And then it hits me.

“Fuck.” I drag a hand down my face. “The Army won’t care we had an open marriage.”

“Exactly.”

“Shit. Motherfucker.” My voice cracks, half rage, half fear.

He just shakes his head, still breathing hard. “I don’t understand how you could ever be okay with that.” He waves a hand, dismissive, disgusted.

I swallow hard. “I was scared she was gonna ask for a divorce. Turns out all she wanted was for me to come home.”

For a long moment, he just studies me. And for once, I don’t know if he’s about to swing again—or give me advice.

He wipes the sweat from his brow, breathing slow. “I understand, Lyle. The thrill of being out there. Defending the American people. But now… with the way the political environment is lately, I—” He pauses, voice hitching, then lets out a long breath. “I’m glad you’re retiring.”

I raise a brow. “What about Connelly men don’t quit ?”

He lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Believe it or not, those were my father’s words. Not mine. Somewhere along the way, I started repeating them like gospel.”

I frown, uneasy.

He looks down the street, then back at me. “The way your children speak of you, how much they love you and respect you… it made me realize that’s what I wanted once. And somewhere, somehow, I ended up becoming the opposite.”

“Dad…” My voice drops, cautious. “What’s going on? You’re talking like…”

With a grunt, he lowers himself onto the porch steps. For the first time in my life, my father looks… old.

“I’m talking like a man who knows his time’s winding down,” he says finally, staring out into the dark.

My chest tightens. “What do you mean?”

He smiles faintly. “I have a son that’s retiring. I’m no spring chicken, son.”

I lower myself onto the step beside him. “You’re in your sixties, Dad. With exercise and good eating—”

His laugh cuts me off, deep and sudden. “Your mother might as well get a whip and strike me with it, the way she barks at me to walk faster.”

I can’t help but smile. “She is an Army wife.”

That earns another chuckle, softer this time. He leans back on his hands, eyes on the night sky. “My father died one year after retirement.”

I turn my head sharply. “Really? I didn’t know that.”

He nods, gaze still far away. “Heart gave out. Didn’t even make it to seventy.

” He breathes out slow, like the memory’s pressing on his ribs.

“I think the only reason I’m still here is because of your mom.

That woman stuck with me through thick and thin, and I guess I just can’t understand why anyone would… ”

He trails off.

I wait, watching his jaw work, waiting for the rest.

“…why anyone would put their marriage at risk,” he finishes finally, voice rough. His eyes cut to me, sharp again. “You don’t just open—” he spits the word like it tastes foul “—your marriage because things are hard. You work at it.”

The words land heavy, like he just swung at me again.

I stare down at my hands, knuckles scraped raw from slamming his dashboard earlier, from years of carrying weapons, from holding too tight to things I should’ve let go.

“I thought I was working at it,” I mutter. “I thought I was giving her what she wanted so she wouldn’t leave me.”

He lets out a sharp breath, half disgust, half disbelief. “That’s not working at it, son. That’s running scared.”

I clench my jaw, but he’s not finished.

“This mess with that woman—whatever it is—if you don’t tell Maria, then you’re making the same bad decision all over again.”

The words slice deeper than his punch ever could.

I look at him, throat tight, chest burning. “You think I don’t know that?”

He doesn’t flinch. “Then prove it. Don’t give her half a marriage, Lyle. She deserves better than that. You both do.”