Chapter 28

The girls begin to giggle at my mouth hanging open. They must think that soaking the two of us was something good because the laughter doesn’t stop.

I understand that kids make mistakes, but this is honestly not what I need right now. I’m pregnant with baby hormones swimming through me. Not only that, but Derek is also fucking sexy as I stare at him, making it hard to pull away.

“Now, which one of you did that?” Derek asks. He crosses his arms. “You both know that Miss Esme and I weren’t your intended targets. The plates were!”

The little girls look at one another like we just told them a complicated math equation. “It was an accident, Daddy,” Bea insists, giving a pouty lip and sad eyes. “We didn’t mean to.”

He raises a brow. “Are you sure that’s true?”

The two little one’s nod their heads together. “We’re sorry, Daddy. We’re sorry, Miss Esme.”

I look down at my dripping top. This isn’t going to be okay, especially if we’re playing games with his little ones. “I’m going to go next door and change into something different.”

Derek sighs. “Don’t bother. I have plenty of things you can change into.”

Does he hear what he’s saying right now? As I stand here, in his house, hi abs peeking through the soaked t-shirt. He looks as tan as ever. His pecs even move a bit as he talks, and I wonder how long it must have taken him to get to this place with his body.

“Esme?” Derek asks, tilting his head. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” I admit, shaking my head.

“Come with me, and let’s get you a T-shirt that may fit,” he replies, gesturing toward his room.

To his girls, he states, “Finish cleaning the dishes, and I’ll give you your second clue, okay?”

The two smile and nod. “Okay, Daddy!” Tris singsongs. “We’ll make everything pretty perfect!”

We leave the daughters to their own devices, and I follow Derek into his room.

Is this the first time I’m coming into this room before? I can’t count on one hand how often I’d been inside his bedroom. Because this is my first time.

It’s decorated like someone else’s favorite scenery. At this point, there were very few images of the girls, no other women or even men, and some simple, boring décor with flowers drawn on it.

“How long ago did you move here?” I deadpan as he heads to the closet. I can’t take my eyes off of anything.

“A while,” he replies vaguely.

“Can’t even give me a season?”

“I don’t know how long it’s been because my life has become a fucking whirlwind of a joke and the fact, I know what goddamn day of the week it is and the names of my girls is all I’ve got right now.”

He snaps at me without so much as a thought. I’m shocked because I’ve never heard him talk like that to me. It’s always ‘easy come, easy go,’ and ‘I love my daughters.’

Yet here I am, on the receiving end of some anger with Derek.

“Okay,” I reply with my hands slightly raised in the air. “I was just teasing you.”

But I wasn’t teasing him. He doesn’t know when he came here because his divorce must be interfering with anything in his personal life. Though I don’t know, this is all merely speculation.

Derek sighs, his head falling forward as he stands in front of the dresser. He turns around, tossing a few shirts on the bed for me to choose from.

“Sorry. I know that was incredibly uncalled for. But it’s sometimes hard to explain the world of being a single parent to someone who’s never done it before.”

And it’s not like he knows I’m pregnant yet, either.

“Derek,” I say, walking up to him and touching his bicep. God, he is really toned. “You’re talking to the one person who gets what you’re going through with a divorce. I’m just counting the days and trying to stay afloat, just like everyone else.”

He shakes his head. “You’re right, though.”

I flip my still-wet hair. “My favorite words.”

“This whole thing is just difficult to take in sometimes. I love being their father, and being present is no issue for me. But I guess I worry if I’m actually good at this job.”

I snort. “Of course you are,” I insist. “I see how they love you.”

“They love me?. Or do they look up to me as their role model?”

I shove him. “You’re too hard on yourself! Look, why don’t we get changed and back out there so the girls can enjoy their treasure hunt.”

“I do have some fun things planned,” he replies with a small shrug.

“So, let’s get to it!”

We each change our shirts separately before we head back out to the two silly girls, bouncing for games. As we’d had some time alone, Derek gave me some insight on how to start the next quest or hint.

He lets me take over. “Now that the dishes are clean, can you think of a place where no is truly mean?”

The two girls talk to each other, trying to put the rhymes together. If Derek hadn’t told me the answer, I don’t know if I would have guessed it correctly.

“Hint!” Bea asks.

I think I'm coming up with another rhyming scheme. “No one is bad, no one is good, because we’re all different under this hood!”

“Toybox, toybox!” Bea guesses correctly, giddy as she grabs her sister and goes running into the playroom where the box has a clue taped onto it.

“A note!” Tris claps her hands. “What’s it say, B?”

“Find five items around the house that will put together your next question. If not, you clean the floors!”

Tris scrunches her nose. “Ew, floor cleaning is yucky!”

“Then you better hurry, Derek instructs, pointing to the page. “Can you guys find all these things?”

“Split up!” Bea instructs, the two running away again, leaving us alone.

“Seems like they really love these games,” I say in the silence.

“It’s just hard to come up with new clues or guesses each time,” he admits. “Because I don’t want them to guess where it is instead of following instructions.”

“Seems like they’re very smart, and it seems to be working.”

He shrugs. “They get that from their father, I’m guessing.”

In another room, there’s a loud noise that sounds, followed by crying. I look at Derek and tell him I’ll go figure it out.

I weave through the rooms, trying to find the crying kid. I don’t see either Bea nor Tris, but the cryng is loud.

“Girls?” I call out, slightly exasperated. “Come on, what’s happened? You’re running out of time for your challenge!”

Still no answer, but the crying continues.

I enter the bathroom and see a recording device on the ground, plying what sounds like the crying noise on it.

“What the hell?” I question.

What kind of treasure hunt is this, anyway?

I stand back up and walk toward the door, when suddenly, it swings closed, and to my horror, it actually makes a locking sound.

Oh, no way. What the hell, how did that happen? “Very funny, you two,” I call, banging on the door. “But that’s the end of the joke. Now let me out so we can keep playing the game.

But there’s no answer.

“This isn’t nice!” I snap to the air around me, waiting for someone to tell me this horrible prank is over. Of all the things to happen besides nearly drowning in a pool, being locked in a room like this is absolutely up there.

“Derek?” I call out. I pound on the door. “Bea? Tris? Guys, not funny! I don’t like this game!”

But still, nothing happens. I look around the bathroom for any signs of this joke ending, but nothing jumps out at me. I question if I can take the shower rod down and use it to put a hole in the door.

I bet if they knew I’m pregnant, they wouldn’t be doing such a stupid prank. And I don’t even know if Derek’s in on this.

Instead of panicking or breaking things—which is honestly what I’d like to do—I sit down on the floor and rock myself back and forth.

I do my best not to think about the current moment, or what it reminds me of. I’m just hanging out in a room in the middle of a silly game for kids, that’s all.

I tell myself that I can leave whenever I want.

That I am in control.

I honestly don’t know how long passes before someone opens the bathroom door.

It’s Derek of course, completely baffled by my appearance, his girls by his sides looking terrified.

“Our prank went bad,” Bea says, regret in her voice. “We wanted to scare you.”

“Not lock you in,” Tris finishes.

“Esme, I am so sorry,” Derek adds, swooping in to help me up off the floor. “They said they just wanted to make you jump, but the wind from the other room slammed the door closed, and the lock engaged without them meaning to.”

I don’t have any words to say, looking between the Anderson family.

Instead, I stand up, nod at the three of them, and I walk out the door without a single word to anyone.

I know they’ll wonder why, and I’m sure the rest of my day is ruined and adding to the buried trauma, but I don’t care.

I sit in my bed, a blanket pulled over my head, Sammy in my lap, and just weep to myself.

Maybe the hormones are making me cry harder, but it doesn’t matter. I almost let Derek see a side of me I don’t show. And I’m not letting that happen again.