Page 2 of Right the Wrongs (Broken Vows #5)

I grunt, which is as good as an agreement for me, and I grab the cat carrier and head down to her classic fifties Buick.

She’s been babying this car since her husband, Ben, bought it for her when they got married.

I should talk her out of keeping this car, but I understand being so stuck on someone you can’t have that you’ll hold on to any part of them that you can.

At least she had a whole life with her husband.

Still, it doesn’t make it easier to be without them.

Thank God Wren is younger than me, because I don’t think I could live any more of this life without her in it.

I’ve already spent the last few years pining for her when I thought it was hopeless.

Dropping off the cat is easy. They prearranged for Dolores to drop her off and pick her up before they close today.

I swing by the shop next and get ready to do the work on the Buick myself, but Charlie runs me out.

Normally, I’d do anything to keep from working on one of my days off, especially with how much I’ve been working trying to launch the new location for Hale and Storm Automotive, but I'm willing to do just about anything to prevent having to go to the pharmacy.

With that plan foiled, I have no excuse, except to walk a few blocks over to Palmer’s Pharmacy and get in line to fill Dolores's prescriptions. Considering I am over six feet tall and walk around with whatever the male equivalent of resting bitch face permanently glowering at people, you would think I would stand out and stop people from talking about me within earshot. Apparently, not in Harriston, the people in this town are not particularly aware of their surroundings, or maybe I’m not as intimidating as I like to think.

It's also possible that they just don't fucking care.

It wouldn't be the first time somebody has disregarded how I might think or feel about something in pursuit of some juicy news.

When Melinda told me she was pregnant with Liam, at the end of our senior year, that spread around town pretty quickly, too.

I think that’s how both of our parents found out.

Although, it didn’t come as a surprise because the bar of achievement in Harriston is pretty low.

Not surprising that it was Mr. Palmer who took it on himself to share that joyful news, too.

That’s why most of us make that drive over to Pine Bluff to get condoms or really anything from the pharmacy.

Maybe if people felt like there was even the tiniest bit of privacy to buy those things in this town, the teen pregnancy rate wouldn’t be the highest in the state.

Not everyone has a car or the gas money to drive nearly an hour round-trip.

It isn’t lost on me that if you don’t have enough money to make that trip, you definitely can’t afford a baby, but teenagers aren’t known for their critical thinking skills.

I see now that I got off easy from the rumor mill back then.

The town was done talking about Liam’s impending birth before Melinda even started showing.

Of course, teenage pregnancy isn’t nearly as interesting as a relationship with your daughter-in-law, so it’s going to take a lot longer for this news to die down.

Not sure when it’s going to happen, though.

It’s been almost a year now, and it’s still passing around like when we first got together.

Even rumors that Charlie is hooking up with Hattie, Wren’s aunt and the baby sister of one of his best friends, aren’t enough to move them on to something else.

They just found some room for more news.

I’ve learned not to engage with the people spreading half-truths or straight-out lies about me.

Instead, I stand here, clenching both my fists and my jaw as I listen to the vile garbage being spread.

“I heard that they shared her," whispers one bored housewife.

“Really? Because I heard that he won her in a bet from Liam,” says her equally vapid friend.

I would recognize the condescending tsking sound anywhere, having been on the receiving end of Mr. Palmer’s performative morals.

Secretly, or not so secretly, he loves the gossip that spreads like a gas leak in his store.

It’s just as toxic and stinks. The only thing he might love as much is feigning moral superiority over the people who spread the gossip in his business.

“Ladies," he chides, “let's not go spreading baseless accusations. That's not the kind of town Harriston is.”

“The hell it isn’t,” I grumble under my breath.

None of them hear me and focus completely on Mr. Palmer and the morsel of information they know he's about to share with them. That is why people come here instead of protecting their privacy and going to Pine Bluff. Unless they’re a dumbass like me and don't think ahead to make the twenty-five-minute trip into the slightly larger town. Granted, I didn’t actually know that a trip to the pharmacy would be part of my day.

“I think it's quite understandable that Wren has turned to Griffin in a time such as this,” Mr. Palmer continues with sincerity oozing in his voice. I have to commend him; I almost believe he’s being sincere.

“After all,” he continues, “her best friend did just give birth to Liam’s baby. I saw her heading out of town earlier today, and she did not have her car seat with her. Poor baby. She must've already been dropped off with a relative. Surely she couldn't have done what I heard her talking about.”

Now he had my attention. I grunt a warning, letting him know that I can hear every word he has been saying. “Don't stop on my account, old man. What did you overhear that little slut say she was going to be doing? Is there another marriage she plans on ruining, maybe the pastor or the mayor?”

I know that she’s the mother of my grandchild.

That should grant her some forgiveness. Maybe under other circumstances it would.

I can’t even drum up some compassion due to the fact that without her affair with my son, I wouldn’t be married to the love of my life right now.

My personal happiness will never erase the pain I saw on Wren’s face.

Not even since that pain showed me that she wasn’t the spoiled brat I let my son convince me she was.

Yes, I wanted her, but I didn’t let myself respect her until I saw the depth of her character.

There was an entire world present in the agony that I saw her handle with grace.

His mouth gapes open with indignation, another tool from his arsenal about how to fake sincerity, an act I haven't believed since Liam was in diapers.

“Now, Griffin, you can hardly judge that poor young woman, especially considering your current relationship status, surely you must know that the heart cannot always be denied what it wants.”

My teeth clench so hard I can hear them grinding against each other.

It takes effort not to have the following conversation with my fists, but Mr. Palmer is just this side of ancient.

It would not be a fair fight if he were my age, since the only man who would stand a chance at kicking my ass is Charlie, but it’s especially reprehensible if I were to beat up the crypt keeper.

“You've known me a long time, Mr. Palmer, so you know that I don't have the best track record with keeping my shit under control, so how about you tell me what the fuck you're talking about before I lose my shit? Feel me?"

Mr. Palmer sputters, looks around his store, probably trying to see if he has an audience big enough for such a dramatic event, before realizing that the women have already noticed me and scurried away.

As juicy as this gossip is, it does not overcome the fear a lot of people in this town still carry for me.

Sometimes my asshole exterior does have benefits.

Not when it’s scaring away my Baby Bird, but I don’t give two fucks about scaring away the bored housewives of Harriston.

Finally, when he realizes that no one is here to witness our little exchange, he drops the facade of indignation and answers my question.

I have no doubt he will tell this story with a lot more flair to all of the people who come in later on today, or until something bigger happens in town.

Can't imagine what could be bigger than marrying your daughter-in-law, but this is Harriston, and people will rise to the challenge.

“I overheard Audrey telling someone on the phone that she was going to be leaving baby Natalie with the child's father. She didn't name Liam, however, we all know who the baby’s dad is.”

I inhale slowly through my nose. This is the last thing I fucking need. God knows my son is not capable of taking care of a baby. “When?” It’s the only word I manage to speak.

“Earlier this morning, probably about four hours ago?”

"Are you asking me, or telling me?" I snap at him.

Mr. Palmer nods his head, his comb-over flopping across his forehead.

“Telling it was definitely shortly after I opened.

Mrs. Jones is the one who checked her out, but I could see that she had diapers, formula, and all the necessities that one would get if they were going to be gone for a few days.

There were clothes hanging out of her bag, and it was stuffed to the breaking point.

I slap some money down on the counter. “I need Mrs. Howell's prescriptions, and you're going to get them for me very fucking fast.”

For once, he has nothing to say and goes about doing his actual fucking job. Which is a very good thing because I have one more stop to make, apparently.